Songs of Faith

For a long time, my faith has been shaped by the songs I’ve sung. When something is on my mind, it is usually a tune that occurs to me, not a Bible verse, as truth with a tune is more memorable.

Growing up in the Australian Lutheran Church I have grown up with the All Together song books. Many of these songs are written by members of our denomination. Now that I live and worship in a multinational and multidenominational community, I find I miss these songs. They have shaped my faith, but others here do not know them at all.

Another source of music that has shaped me is Taizé. Their simple, Biblical and repeated songs are words that soak deep into my soul. Like a dripper that waters a root deeply, these songs soak truth to my depths.

Rebekah checking sound levels while
the musicians practice in Maipenairu

Having had music shape my own faith, I am always pleased when in a village I find PNG communities worshipping in their own language with their own music. As part of our time in Gulf province, we were able to encourage communities in this by recording their vernacular worship songs for them. These were then burnt to CDs or SD cards and left in the community for them to share and enjoy. Eventually these will hopefully be joined by song sheets, for singing a familiar song, or listening to it, while reading the words is a good literacy tool.

Village recording is very different to studio recording. Rebekah was in charge of recording and clearly knew what she was doing, but was faced with many challenges. First we had to find a good place for people to gather. Thankfully, bush roofs are good at absorbing sound in the same way a recording studio is designed to. In one place we used the covered market, in the other we used the church building.

Other people are a challenge when recording. As usual, our activities were the centre of attention and we drew a crowd, a crowd that needed to keep quiet. At the beginning and end of each recording Rebekah would count down from five on her fingers, indicating the silence was starting or ending. People would slowly settle in this time, hushing others. Some people would always be clear in the need for silence and police others. Some people never quite seemed to grasp the concept, and were forever shuffling, coughing or whispering, yet we eventually got there.

Each time we planned to record, we prayed that it did not rain. That is a sound which cannot be edited out. The weather must be waited out. As we had a fairly tight schedule, we were thankful that wet season decided to work with our schedule and hold off at recording times.

Recording in Kope language in Ubuo village

The biggest recording challenge was roosters. We would try to chase them away. We would ask children to chase them away. Yet, with impeccable timing, they would still manage to crow loudly in the middle of recordings.

Most of the songs we recorded were translations of English hymns and spiritual songs, although some were written by locals. Translated hymns tend to take on a new form in a new place as rhythm and tempo are adjusted to local tastes. I could not always recognise the connection to the original.

With nine songs recorded in I’ai language in Maipenairu village and 26 songs in Kope language in Ubuo village, it was encouraging to see songs of the faith shaping the people in those places in the same way that they have shaped me.