And trust in His redeeming blood,
And try His works to do,”
and then sing it quite emotionally.
A great many people deprecate the minister’s reading of the hymns. But that is because so few ministers are able to read hymns with any degree of impressiveness or reality. Perhaps half the ministers who read them leave no desirable impression whatever as the result, for the reading has been without even a thoughtful sense of the meaning of the hymn, much less of its emotional force. To allow one’s voice to fall at the end of every line, or to make a habit of having a rising inflection at the end of each first line and a falling at the end of each second, without variation, is so vile, from an elocutionary standpoint, that one cannot wonder that the general congregation prefers its omission.
On the other hand, if the minister’s mind and heart are profoundly awake to the thought and feeling of the hymn that is to be used, if the minister has a definite purpose which he wishes to realize through the singing of that hymn, if the whole song service is thoroughly vital and earnest, he cannot help reading the hymn in such a way as to impress and interest his people. One need not be a well-trained elocutionist to do this. The genuine feeling will develop a natural elocution and will even neutralize faulty habits and mannerisms of reading that would otherwise make it unendurable.
The fact that the hymn is a familiar one may be only an additional reason for reading it, instead of being an imperative reason for omitting its reading. As coins long in circulation often lose their superscription, these familiar words often lose their meaning and reality by constant use, and these may be restored by intelligent and emotional reading.
A mere habit of reading a hymn through is sheer mechanism, the fatal enemy of interest. The situation, the purpose in view, the character of the service and the time allotted to it, even the preacher’s own passing mood—all are factors that need to be considered.
At this point it is well to drop a word of warning against the unintelligent omission of verses. Some ministers invariably restrict the number to be sung to three or four. If there are five verses, they invariably omit the fourth, or announce, “We will sing the first three verses,” no matter what the development of thought may be. One of the most painful manifestations of ministerial thoughtlessness and indifference to the congregation’s share of the service, is this brutal mutilation of the hymns. The preacher wishes a little more time for his sermon, so he robs God and his people of some of their worship by singing the pitiful remains of a hymn he has deprived of its unity, its progress of thought, and perhaps of its best stanzas. Or he has preached too long and closes with a single verse of some great hymn, unwittingly losing the best climax his sermon could have had. Because of the same egotism and his obsequious regard for the tyranny of the dinner hour, he cuts out the reading and proper introductions of his hymns throughout the service.
The irony of the situation is that by this neglect of his hymns the preacher fails to create the enthusiasm and responsiveness of his hearers essential to the larger success of his sermon. “There is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty.” (Prov. 11:24.)
It may well be that some of the ministers who read this practical section will throw up their hands at the idea of working out the rather daunting array of suggestions for exploiting the hymn in their church work. The pastor’s task is such a varied one, with such a mass of details, all of seeming importance, that he is in danger of wasting time on comparative trifles, of “puttering” around, feeling very busy while accomplishing little. A common remark at the close of the day is, “I’ve been busy as a nailer all day and can’t see that I have accomplished anything!”