Two verses used to be the limit for the processional and recessional hymns at my church. But there's a new music director in town, an organist no less, and he plays all four verses of every entering and leaving song.
Is it my imagination, or is there a certain restlessness as we plunge into verse four of the entrance hymn, a narrowly avoided temptation to glance at the watch?
As for the recessional, people are voting with their feet. This morning, about half the congregation left before the last notes of "The Church's One Foundation" sounded and the postlude began, organ chords thundering down from on high.
This is how we're supposed to leave the sanctuary, I thought, as I made my way to the holy water font and out the door — caught up in a marvelous swell of sound.
(This organ is from San Bartolome Church, Seville, Spain, not my church. I wish!)