What was that we sang

The first Church I attended as a child, a Wesleyan Methodist Church in Wakefield, West Yorkshire, long ago ceased to meet as a church. The building and site were closed and my parents were leading figures in arranging for stained glass windows to be removed, mounted in special frames and relocated in another church in the circuit, to which many members of the first church transferred their membership.

Over the last year I imagine many people will have remembered aspects of their childhood with no doubt a wide variety of emotions. That is natural, especially in times of uncertainty. In my case old photographs, remembered faces and incidents and kindnesses shown have added to my feelings as well as remembering with gratitude that some aspects of the life lived in those days have now passed by.

One constant, between then and now, is humour. Of course, not only are our memories personal but the humour they invoke is often meaningful only in the situation itself, knowing as we do the foibles of those involved.

Some members of the Methodist Church (and others) are members of one or more Facebook groups which in recent times have become a reservoir of some of these memories. A recent theme has been to share stories of childhood hymns where misunderstandings brought unintended joy. I will share an example from my childhood church in a moment, but to start with here are few which have raised a smile:

"Shake off dolls’ clothes and joyful rise…."

"Argad reigns" (a more modern hymn)

"Low in the gravy lay…" and

"up from the gravy a rose…"

"We three Kings of Orry and Tar"

"For all the saints who from their neighbours rest…"

"Tear out my soul"

"You in your small corner and die in mine"

"….following Ringo Starr…"

"Making a channel for my peas…"

"Let us with a glass of wine…"

Some personal thoughts are these: -

As a child I was puzzled by "Here I raise my Ebeneezer" (and still am for most of the time)

Is it true that our own Revd Jane Wild, a keen cyclist, explained her late arrival for a preaching appointment by saying, "My chains fell off"?

Finally, that childhood church of mine, situated on the outskirts of Wakefield between an urban development called Belle Vue and a much older rural settlement, still beautiful, called Heath Common. How often the hymn was sung ‘All Things which live below the sky’, a fine old hymn, with the immortal line "...and the goats upon the heath". Especially as a favoured aunt and uncle of mine leased the oldest cottage at the top of the Common.