In the early 1970s, our little rural church sported a proportionately little choir. On a good Sunday, we might have ten singers. We might have been small in number, but we were determined to provide our congregation with uplifting music.
The choir director, a young seminary student, brought many of his Music Ministry class ideas to choir practice. Some of them seemed a little advanced for our little band of dedicated amateurs, but we did our best to implement them. Singing the words of Hymn A to the music of Hymn B, for example, or using the chorus of one hymn with the verse of another worked fairly well. Feedback from the congregation was positive.
One of his plans focused on shaking up our listeners with new words inserted into old familiar hymns. Not brand-new lyrics, mind you, just a new phrase somewhere in the song. As a test case, he chose “Amazing Grace,” John Newton’s stirring and beloved hymn. The change he wanted us to make came in the last stanza. Instead of singing “When we’ve been there ten thousand years,” he wanted us to sing “When we’ve been there forever more.” A simple change, right?
We practiced his new version over and over until the new phrase felt more comfortable. Several choir members expressed concern over being the one singer to forget the change, but we encouraged each other. We would do just fine, we promised ourselves! And we prayed for divine assistance along the way.
On Sunday morning, we practiced once more between Sunday School and worship. We sang the song perfectly. In true team fashion, we clasped hands and called “Forevermore!” before filing into the sanctuary for the service. We took our places in the choir loft behind the pastor. The service began and we waited for our cue.
When the time came for our special presentation, our director stepped into position before us. He gave us the sign to rise, then slipped in a big “OK” sign and a smile out of sight of the congregation. The pianist played the introduction and we came in exactly on cue. The words of the old hymn swept us away and our little cohort sounded great (at least from my perspective).
Then we got to the last verse. I felt tension increase around me as we all concentrated on using the new phrase.
“When we’ve been there…,” came out of every mouth. “Forevermore” came out of every mouth but one. The one male voice clearly, distinctly sang “ten thousand years.”
Our faithful rehearsing and divine providence kept us steady. We continued the song without pause or hitch. No one laughed or missed a beat and we finished our presentation. The director signaled us to leave the choir loft and join our families in the congregation, standard procedure after our special music. No one said a word as we made our way to the pews.
After the service, we waited for comments from our audience. None were forthcoming, although some members exchanged odd looks with choir members. Only in the parking lot did we hear some remarks. The jokes and one-liners flew in all directions. Any hopes of the mistake being overlooked were dashed as the jests kept coming.
To my recollection, we didn’t try any more phrase substitutions for the choir. You see, the one male voice who forgot to make the change was none other than our choir director.