Now, don’t get me wrong. I grew up in a church where we’d sing a certain hymn only twice a year, as not to become “complacent” when singing the lyrics. Since I usually didn’t have the words in Braille, I could hum the tunes of hymns and even play many of them on piano, but I did not know their lyrics, nor did I care to. When I arrived in Nashville for college, I was pleasantly surprised to find that most songs performed in church were very easy to memorize. But after a few years of simplicity, I suppose my brain began to wonder whether there might have been more to those archaic pieces of work I’d heard growing up than I first thought. That’s when my hymn research began. I read through lyric after lyric of the most amazingly beautiful poetry, prayers, psalms, and laments. Such depth. Such magnificent language. And mostly from authors and composers who didn’t live much past forty.

I uncovered some unique pieces like “Blind Bartimaeus,” a hymn written by Fanny Crosby. Not a romantic sounding title, but the lyrics sure are…you can just picture Bartimaeus at the temple gates shouting the verses to Jesus as He passed by.

I discovered some songs in very unusual places, too. Being a lover of all things Ken Burns, I watched a documentary he made about the Shakers. (Watch it if you haven’t. I’m on my thousandth viewing, I think.) The Shakers were incredible craftsman, but they also created wonderful music. The melodies, though simple and singable, are hauntingly beautiful. The words are straightforward and humble—and perfect. Finally, there’s the stuff I love with all my heart—the “soulful” Soul music. I grew up on a steady diet of Black Gospel music. (I’m sure you couldn’t tell.) And it ain’t scared to show up on this project.

People of faith have always found magnificent ways to say, “Amen!” I hope that as you listen to this record, you will experience the timeless power and beauty of their lyrics, and will say, “Amen,” too.