1934 Psalter--Harry Dirkse was my grandpa

 

First, that we with our children are conceived and born in sin, and therefore are children of wrath, so that we cannot enter into the kingdom of God, except we are born again. This, the dipping in or sprinkling with water teaches us, whereby the impurity of our souls is signified, that we may be admonished to loathe ourselves, humble ourselves before God, and seek for our purification and salvation apart from ourselves. 

If you recognize those words, you and I are of the same vintage. The quote comes from the 1934 Psalter Hymnal, the one I remember from very long ago--the purple hymnal, the one redone now three times since then (that one at the top of the page). The blue hymnal followed in the year of the American Bicentennial (probably unrelated), in 1976. Then, the gray one, just ten years or so later (1987), followed by most recently by the red one (2013), which most often isn't even removed from the back of the chairs in our church anyway because the lyrics for congregational singing can be read on the screen up front. 

The language I quoted above is long gone too, of course. Orthodox or not, we no longer find it of great importance to recognize our tots as "children of wrath," nor do we think it helpful for us or our children, to be told we should "loathe ourselves," nor for matter "to seek for our purification." Sends a shiver.

That language seems almost crippling in intent, nearly a form of abuse. Yet, I must admit, when, this morning, I read through the old "Form for Infant Baptism," the 1934 version), I remembered it very well. If you're my age, and these were the creeds you heard, Sunday after Sunday, I'm guessing you too haven't forgotten that baptism is a "seal and indubitable testimony." Fancy word, that--"indubitable." I'm sure, as a kid I knew it was a church word. Never heard it anywhere else. 

If, like me, you've long ago lost your hair or watched it silver, listen, and tell me you don't remember this:  

. . .we are obliged to a new obedience, namely that we cleave to this one God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; that we trust in him and love Him with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our  mind, and with all our strength: that we forsake the world, crucify our old nature, and walk in a godly life. 

That, to me, is as clear to my memory as a chorus or two from "Living for Jesus." As I've often said those old Sunday School ditties (in my case a whole shelf full of kiddie songs from Let Youth Praise Him) are in me--they're deeply, almost hauntingly, planted. They're there--as is that sacramental language.

While subsequent Psalter Hymnals (blue and gray) took some of the rigidity out of the language used for the sacraments and liturgies, the red one (no longer a "psalter"--it's been given a new title Lift Up Your Hearts, which, it might be noted, is a world away from "loath ourselves"), not only changes the way we do baptism and the Lord's Supper, it drops those forms altogether.

I'm not a pastor, but I'm guessing that preachers are well-supplied with suitable explanations of how we should participate in the two sacraments that exist in the Reformed faith, baptism and communion, as well as acceptable formularies should pastors care to read them through before baptism. (The silver one still has a form for excommunication). And I don't doubt that there are pastors in all corners of the denomination who read the forms, and even some who do so with the congregation, never having switched Psalters at all (although I'm guessing the old 1934 edition is in the basement, a museum piece). 

So what happened yesterday was, at least to me, rather startling. We don't have access to the forms anymore, so when our pastor chose to read one, we were totally dependent upon his communicating the whole truth and nothing but. What he read wasn't up on the screen for our convenience, but no one really doubts our pastor's orthodoxy. Everyone in church believes that he's on the straight-and-narrow and that what he somewhat surprisingly read was well, sound Reformed theology.

Anyway, because he read as much as he did, I listened closely, almost as if it were a new experience.

This morning, I went back to the silver (1987) edition to find what he read because I wasn't sure which reading he was using, although had he been reading the old indubitable one (1934), I'm guessing everyone would have noticed. Sure enough, there it was--silver Psalter. 

Tomorrow, I'll let you know what language flagged my attention.