Sunday Surprise

It was the last Sunday of the year, between Christmas and New Year's Day, and we opened our bulletin to see who was speaking.  The program listed an opening song and prayer, the hymn and passing of the sacrament, and then, where it should have listed the speakers, it said "Testimonies from the congregation." 

I whispered, "Look, they've got the wrong week, somebody goofed.  This isn't Fast Sunday!"  (The first Sunday of the month is given as a day of fasting and testimonies given by the members as they feel moved to come forward.)

After the meeting began, the explanation was given by the bishop's counselor who was conducting.  The members were invited to offer their testimonies through the hymns--we would sing together one verse of a hymn requested by any member of the congregation after his or her brief remarks about what that hymn meant to them.

The Lord told Emma Smith through her husband Joseph,  Doctrine & Covenants 25:

11 And it shall be given thee, also, to make a selection of sacred hymns, as it shall be given thee, which is pleasing unto me, to be had in my church.

12 For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads.

Emma compiled the first hymnbook for the church, and many of those hymns remain today.  The hymns, old and new, are a big part of our meetings.  I saw a sign once at another church that said, "The person who sings prays twice."  Sacred, spiritual songs are one way to open our hearts to the Spirit.

On this occasion, partly because it was unexpected, the members of the congregation opened their hearts and thoughts.  They began to come forward.  Some offered favorites which made them remember the teachings of their childhood.  Some pondered words that anchored them in difficult times.  Some were mindful of present hopes, others of past assurances.  All of us saw new windows into our brothers and sisters, and remembered our blessings.  I think the experience was more profound because it was not anticipated when we walked in the doors that morning, not routine. 

The stricture of one single verse was made in the interests of time.  So far every song had been sung as the first verse, as my mind was led back through a multitude of difficult struggles which had been overcome through my Heavenly Father's help and strength.  I was pushed to get up and offer that testimony, and request a hymn--but not the first verse.  No, I asked for the one from a particular day when I recognized how far I had come through painful challenges, and which I was remembering now, the verse which had meant so much to me.  The last verse of  " We Are Sowing."

     

    Thou who knowest all our weakness, leave us not to sow alone!  

    Bid thine angels guard the furrows Where the precious grain is sown, 

    Till the fields are crowned with glory, filled with mellow, ripened ears, 

    Filled with fruit of life eternal From the seed we sowed in tears.

Our Father does know us, and the angels do guard. All will come to pass in time.  That was the testimony I offered that day, and it is the testimony I offer still.