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Stump the Band

The Source

Our little Methodist Church in Arenzville plays a little game on Sunday mornings, and it’s called stump the pianist. Instead of listing the hymns in the bulletin the various members of the congregation shout out their favorites from the pews. Our church has three hymn books and that’s about two too many, but the organist and I quickly toss down one book, pull up another, then madly flip through the pages while the congregation rises to sing. The children in the congregation love this since they can take real ownership in the service by hollering their favorite, sort of, songs. Several weeks a young boy called out, “137 in the red book!” so we all dutifully turned to find it. I looked at the hymn and found I’d never heard of it. The organist had the same bewildered look on her face, and since neither of us had ever heard of it we doubted that our congregation would know the tune. This is not unusual in many churches where they generally sing hymns that no one has heard of, but we Arenzville Methodist tend to stick to the tried and true things in life like pickup trucks and Burgoo. The minister looked at me and said, “Ken, have you ever heard of this song?” I told him I didn’t. Then the same little voice from the back of the crowd shouted, “Me either. I just picked a number!” I love it. I know that many church organists and pianists like to know the hymns ahead of time so they can practice them at home, but I’ve found that rehearsal does me little good and I like the idea of the congregation having a bigger part of the service by choosing the music. Of course, there are certain techniques you have to adopt if you’re playing with another person. If you were to hand me a piece of music written in six sharps I’d immediately change it to one flat. I don’t think God actually made sharps and I know that He didn’t intend to have six of them appear at once in the same song. However, when you’re playing with an organist whose perch is all the way across the church you have to communicate these key changes quickly and subtly. This is usually accomplished by the raising of one finger. This could mean a variety of things. . .we’ll only play one verse, or I’ll start, or I’m changing the key, or I have to go to the john so you take it. The one downside to playing stump the band is that perhaps not everyone likes that particular hymn. If the hymns are printed in the bulletin then you can blame the minister or the director of music, but when it’s the guy behind you who calls out the unsingable praise song then you must stand there and grit your teeth. Our congregation pretty much agrees on what we like to sing together, but occasionally a clinker will get thrown in. . . like The Battle Hymn of the Republic. This is the favorite song of a few in our congregation but there’s also a small handful that don’t like it at all due to its warlike lyrics. I agree that singing Julia Ward Howe’s famous ode to America doesn’t exactly engender peace in your soul, but I like the tune and I bang it out anyway. We once had a minister who insisted on choosing his own hymns and every Sunday he’d introduce to hymns we’d never heard before, “to expand our musical tastes.” He’s no longer with us. Of course there’s the occasional monkey wrench thrown into things when someone calls out a favorite hymn of her great grandfather, and no more people know the song that who knew Grandpa. We struggle through it and if it has more than four verses I just play faster. Our current minister has a beautiful baritone voice. In fact, he sings our benediction every Sunday. His voice combined with a congregation of people who really like to sing makes for a glorious sound behind me as I play with my back to the crowd. (I realize that Jesse James was shot to death while sitting with his back to the door, but I take the chance. So far conceal and carry hasn’t extended to our church. . .I hope.) Bottom line: it’s a good, good thing. It seems that more that folks are involved in worship, the more. . .well. . . they worship. And I can’t imagine a church without music. I once tested our congregation’s love of music by accompanying them on the accordion. I told them that if they didn’t sing along I’d bring the bagpipes next time. . . and they could choose the tunes.