“Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord;

Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

–Ephesians 5:19–20

I’ve known this verse by heart since childhood. In the Church of Christ where I grew up, Ephesians 5:19 wasn’t just a favorite scripture—it was a foundational one. The Church of Christ bases its practice of a cappella worship on this passage, interpreting Paul’s instruction to “sing and make melody in your heart” as a call to pure vocal praise without the accompaniment of instruments. The voice itself is the instrument God gave us, and the melody is meant to come from within.

As a teenager, I was our congregation’s song leader. I wasn’t particularly good at it, but with only thirteen members in attendance on most Sundays, I was the best we had after our older song leader, Mr. Wayne, could no longer lead because of emphysema. In a small rural congregation like ours, everyone had a role. The preacher usually led the first prayer, and my daddy always gave the closing one. I helped him pass the Lord’s Supper and the collection plate.

Our service never changed much: two songs while seated, then the prayer, followed by one song seated and a second song standing before the sermon. After the sermon came the invitation song, then communion and the closing song—usually just the first verse—before the final prayer. It was a rhythm as familiar as breathing.

I still remember my favorite hymns from Songs of the Church:

Amazing Grace, Rock of Ages, Send the Light, How Great Thou Art, Old Rugged Cross, Blessed Assurance, Precious Memories, and I’ll Fly Away.

For invitationals, we sang God is Calling the Prodigal, Jesus Is Tenderly Calling, Nothing but the Blood, or Softly and Tenderly.

Our closing songs were nearly always I Know That My Redeemer Lives or Unclouded Day.

I even found an old index card tucked in my songbook recently, one of my services carefully written out:

• 109 – Jesus Loves Me (we started using that once younger people joined)
• 168 – Heavenly Sunlight
• 471 – Shall We Gather at the River?
• Prayer
• 119 – Farther Along
• 536 – The Old Rugged Cross
• Sermon
• 696 – There’s a Fountain Free
• Announcements (It was Mr. Wayne’s birthday that week.)
• Lord’s Supper
  • Lord, bless this bread which represents Christ’s body the we may betake of it in a way that is pleasing to Thee. Amen.
  • Lord, bless this fruit of the vine which represents Christ’s blood the we may betake of it in a way that is pleasing to Thee. Amen.
• Collection
• 218 – I Know That My Redeemer Lives
• Dismissal

There were no altos, tenors, or basses in our little church—just us singing from our hearts. The sound may not have been polished, but it was pure. Each voice rose in faith, carrying more sincerity than skill, and that, I believe, is exactly what Paul meant when he told the Ephesians to make melody in their hearts to the Lord.

When I reflect on Ephesians 5:19–20 today, I see more than just a theological argument about instruments. I see the heart of worship itself: that gratitude and melody begin within us. Paul isn’t prescribing what kind of music pleases God; he’s describing why we sing—to give thanks, to speak to one another in faith, and to let joy and hope find expression.

Whether accompanied by an organ or sung a cappella in a little white-clapboard church, true worship comes from a heart that overflows with gratitude. The melody Paul speaks of isn’t confined to vocal cords; it’s the harmony of a thankful soul resonating with God’s love.

And sometimes, when I’m alone and humming What a Friend We Have in Jesus or In the Morning of Joy, two songs that have gotten me through some of my toughest times, I still feel that same peace I knew standing before thirteen faithful souls, leading songs in that small country church where my faith was first formed.

At the end of every service, my daddy always gave the closing prayer. His words never changed much, but they carried deep comfort and familiarity. It was his way of sending us back into the world—asking God’s protection until we gathered again the next Sunday.

Prayer:

Lord, dismiss us as we leave Thy house, bless the ones not with us that they may be with us the next Lord’s Day. Guide, guard, and direct us. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.