(To be sung to the tune of Hymn 49 in the green hymnal: Adam-ondi-Ahman)
The Web was ne’er a garden place,
e’er scourged by troll and jackal.
Yet saints dialed in on modem’s grace
to meet faith crisis, face to face,
And build a bloggernacle.
The Church has need of willing tools;
we are its block and tackle.
Brave thinkers drop their truth on fools
and say our faith is more than rules.
Praise be this bloggernacle.
That’s not to say it needs no tweaks.
The walls could use some spackle.
Our online sanctum bulges and creaks;
we may just be drowning from all the leaks
that flood the bloggernacle.
Now at each other—greater sin—
we smite with words and cackle.
We boo the band booked by a friend
and smash on the stage their mandolin,
within the bloggernacle.
Some stalwart brethren prone to zeal
proclaim us Satan’s rabble.
But kicked-prick podcasts keep it real;
to face your own Carthage holds great appeal,
so claim your bloggernacle.
Forgive the false, embrace the true.
This place, both jewel and shackle,
still catches drops of Carmel’s dew—
its beauty like Nauvoo’s in ’42.
Come surf the bloggernacle!
The meter is 8 7 8 8 7, except when it’s not. Some verses take advantage of all those eighth notes in the soprano and tenor lines of Hymn 49.
As the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints develops a new hymnal, I wonder if Hymn 49 may end up on the chopping block. Personally, I find it peculiar in all the right ways, and I am also a fan of W.W. Phelps as a lyricist.
Image credit: 1948 LDS Hymnal image from Ricardo630, Wikimedia Commons.