Every Thursday night for nearly thirty years, a widely diverse group of 30-100 people gather for worship and a meal at Idlewild Presbyterian Church in midtown Memphis. The irregularity of this service is that it is not comprised of members of the host church, but primarily filled with the men, women, and children of the streets of Memphis.  The service is short and loosely follows the Presbyterian liturgy:  an opening hymn, a sentence or two of confession and prayer, and an acclamation of pardon are followed by a statement of peace and symbolically passing this peace to those assembled.  The second section begins with another hymn and contains a scripture selection and short sermon. After a third hymn, an invitation is issued to a communion table with the Eucharist taken by intinction. The leaders of the service are all volunteer lay persons, with an ordained minister who presides over the communion and for seven years I was one of them. 

Holding a worship service for the unhoused is a difficult challenge to surmount, even with well-meaning leadership, as just getting to church is as much as many in the congregation can manage.  These people are marginalized in nearly every way possible. Organs, instruments, and hymnals can be  intimidating and reminders of their vocal disenfranchisement.  They’ve probably been told that they cannot sing so they should not even try. Smiling faces, open arms and loud exuberance from the worship leaders can intimidate and fall flat.  

For many years the hymns at this Thursday service were selected from the denominational hymnal in the pews, led by the accompanist at the piano with their back to the audience.  These hymns were chosen nearly at random, and, though willing, very few attendees even attempted to sing.  The service was awkward and mostly a place for the street folk to come into for warmth in winter or relief from the brutal Memphis heat and humidity during the long summer. Yet, a congregation like this represents the least ones that Jesus spoke of and consequently demands more respectful attention from the worship leaders to release the spirituality buried in their souls. Sunday morning worship made small is not going to work. I grew up in a musical family that sang in the car, and through college, as a camp counselor and guitarist, I often conducted rousing campfire sings, using the songs from our car,  sprinkled with spirituals and hymns. I became quite confident that anyone could sing with the right encouragement and presentation.  Through the years I participated in numerous workshops led by Alice Parker and John Bell and had honed my skills as a worship enlivener.  One week, out of exhausted frustration as the accompanist, I asked the presiding minister if I could try something.  She eagerly, and a little desperately, said, “Sure!! Please!”

I left the piano bench and went to  their level – only four or five feet from the group.  I started, “Be still and know,” and motioned for them to sing it back to me.  With a little bewilderment, they did. “That I am God,” sang me – and again, so did they!  I still get emotional remembering the looks on their faces – they could sing! Then we did “God is so good” in the same way.  The next week we did it again, all of us focused and part of the worship. The songs didn’t matter because they really didn’t know any.  It was the act of singing that they looked forward to.  We changed the liturgy to a more inclusive style, using some of the resources from the Iona Community and some the minister created.  Participatory readings and prayers, call and response and echo songs, replaced the wordy verses and complex hymn tunes. As the leader, I stood in front of the worshippers, unaccompanied and face-to-face using physical gestures and expression encouraged these new singers and a joyful synergy began.  

No hymnals, no paper, no projections.  But, as with many ‘simple’ modifications, a more focused preparation of the singing is required for this style of praise, but the results are abundantly fruitful. The group was now singing in community with their host church resulting in a palpable spirituality. Though the weather was still a factor in determining attendance, the people returned, bringing friends,  week after week, and looked forward to sharing their voices. As we became more comfortable with the setting and each other, our repertoire grew to nearly 400 hymns and songs, some from the Glory to God hymnal, some from the Music that Makes Community website, and even some from my old camp days. After a while, harmony began to appear, and they could sing canons and rounds with ease. 

In October of 2017, I attended the launch of The Center for Congregational Song in Dallas.  An interest group called; “Paperless Singing” intrigued me.  As we listened to the explanation of the title, I blurted out, “This is a THING?  We do this all the time at my church, but I didn’t know there was a name for it!”  Paperless music is not a genre of music, but a teaching style and a way of singing.  It is certainly not new and is practiced in most of the world.  A worship challenge today lies in encouraging non-musicians to join in the song that has been the realm of reading musicians for so long. One of the advocates of this approach, Donald Schell, says this:  

“People today still want to sing, even those (and maybe especially those) who call themselves non-singers.  Non-singers hope something could replace their shame at what they "can’t do" with a freedom and renewed desire to sing... Choral folk traditions bind the best singers and beginners together singing in one community.  A solo singer offers a lead that welcomes other voices in by the flow of memory and repetition”. (Music by Heart, Introduction).

I moved on in 2019, making sure that there was someone to carry on leading the music.  But I miss it, oh, how I miss it. Using our hearts and minds and voices in worshipping together, irrespective of talent, experience, skill, position, or place, brings the Gospel into our midst honestly and with joyful delight. 

For further reading:

Bell, John L. The Singing Thing:  A Case for Congregational Song.(GIA: Chicago, 2000).

Graham, Nancy L. “Spirituality by Heart”. June Boyce-Tillman, ed. Enlivening Faith (Peter Lang:  Oxford, 2019).

Eicher, David. Ed.  Glory to God (PCUSA:  Louisville, 2014).

Hawn, C. Michael. Gather One:  Praying and Singing Globally. (Wm. Eerdmans: Grand Rapids, 2003).

Parker, Alice. Melodious Accord:  Good Singing in Church (GIA:  Chicago, 2013).

 Schell, Donald. Emily Scott. Music by Heart:  Paperless Songs for Evening Worship. (Church Publishing:  New York, 2019).

Nancy L. Graham is a church musician, lecturer and writer.  She has served congregations in many denominations both in the US and UK.  She holds both a Doctor of Sacred Music and PhD in Musicology from the Graduate Theological Foundation House in Oxford and  a Master of Music from Westminster Choir College.  Nancy currently resides in Mobile, AL

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