I vividly recall being in Horton Barker's living room in St. Clair's Bottom near Chilhowie, Va. in 1955 for an evening of his singing—he even played my guitar to sing "San Antonio"—which I remember as one of the astonishing nights of my life.

When he sang "Wayfaring Stranger" and "Wondrous Love" he no longer sat, but stood in honor of the songs. I was stunned by his radiance in singing those two songs. Though I was an atheist then and am now, his quality of belief in those two performances was something that left me stunned.

I came back home singing those songs with all the radiance I could muster—a poor copy of what Mr. Barker had done, I'm sure. So I was very surprised after singing "Wayfaring Stranger," all three verses,

... But beauteous fields lie just before me, where God's redeemed their vigils keep ...

... I'll drop the cross of self-denial, and enter on my great reward ...

to a guitar-playing friend of my parents, Harrison Taylor, who sang many Burl Ives songs. I hoped she would hear the clarion call of that song as Barker had done it. What a surprise when she said "I never sing more than the first verse. I just don't believe in the others."

It threw me for a loop. If anyone had asked me, I'd have said it didn't matter whether I believed in any given song or not.

Since then my discomfort with songs that I disbelieve has grown. I have sung a number of gospel and hymn songs—even recorded a few (and I love to listen to impassioned gospel by the likes of Dorothy Love Coates). But singing, I carefully choose the songs that steer clear enough of theism enough not to disturb my disbelief. "Chased Old Satan Around the Stump," "What Kind of Shoes You Goin' to Wear," etc are fine. But I do, now, abstain from singing (except sotto voce over dishwashing, perhaps) the admittedly magnificent "Wondrous Love."

So yes, ability to believe in the song has come to matter to me. What makes me wonder is that there was a time in my life when I thought it couldn't.

I've come to feel the act of "belief" in itself is a risky, pitfall-filled way of approaching life, and I tend to use it with caution ... for what that's worth.

So does that mean I abstain from believing in any song I sing? No. But the song needs to be this side of that line. And though belief tends to be temporary, alive and electric during the song, it ends when the song ends.   

I don't know if that helps. Just the tale of one life's journey. Bob