The Cows Are in the Corn

Dr. David Holdren, one of the three General Superintendents of The Wesleyan Church, read the following story as part of his message to General Conference on June 20. I thought you would all enjoy it as you think about some of the current debate on music styles in churches.

An old farmer went to the city one weekend and attended the big church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was. “Well,” said the farmer, “it was good. They did something different, however. They sang praise choruses instead of regular songs, you know, hymns.”

“Praise choruses,” said his wife. “What are those?”

“Oh they’re okay,” said the farmer, “they’re kind of like hymns, only different.”

“What’s the difference?” asked his wife.”

“Well,” the farmer said, “it’s like this. If I were to say to you, ‘Martha , the cows are in the corn,’ well, that would be a hymn. If on the other hand, I were to say to you,: ‘Martha, Martha, Martha, Oh, Martha, Martha, Martha, the cows, the big cows, the brown cows, the black cows, the white cows, the cows, cows, cows are in the corn, in the corn, in the corn, in the corn, the corn, corn, corn.’ Then if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well, that would be praise chorus.”

As luck would have it, the exact same Sunday, a young, new Christian from the city church attended the small town church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

“Well,” said the young man, “it was pretty cool. They did something different, though. They sang hymns instead of regular songs.”

“Hymns,” said his wife. “What are those?”

“Oh, they’re okay. They’re sort of like regular songs, only different,” said the young man. “Well, what’s the difference?” asked his wife.
“Well,” the young man said, ”it’s like this. If I were to say to you: ‘Martha, the cows are in the corn,’ well, that would be a regular song. If, on the other hand, I were to say to you:

‘Oh Martha, dear Martha, hear thou my cry.
Inclinest thine ear to the words of my mouth.
Turn thou thy whole wondrous ear by and by to the righteous inimitable, glorious truth.

For the way of the animals who can explain,
there in their heads is no shadow of sense,
hearkenest they in God’s sun or his rain unless from the mild, tempting corn they are fenced.

Yea those cows in glad bovine, rebellious delight
have torn free from their shackles, their warm pens eschewed.
Then goaded by minions of darkness and night, they all my mild sweet corn have chewed.

So look to that bright shining day by and by.
Where no foul corruptions of earth are reborn,
where no vicious animal make my soul cry, and I no longer see those foul cows in the corn.’

Then, if I do only verse one, three and four and do a key change on the last verse, well, that would be a hymn.”