It might have been any book, any church, almost any hymn. It was actually No. 22 in Praise!; a version of the 22nd psalm beginning 'Why, God, have you forsaken me?' The anniversary of Barry's bereavement came that week; as he sang, verse 6 struck him with particular force. I leave you to look it up.
He didn't sing the last verse at all. Afterwards he opened his book again. He sat quietly, treasuring the words afresh and adding a note in his diary.
Change the scene; this time I am there too. Another Baptist church, and the visiting minister brings all his hi-tech gear along. At the click of a switch from his lovely assistant (as he describes his daughter) everything zooms gracefully on to its big screen; sermon outline, photos to pray about, and of course the words of hymns and songs. Big enough print for people like me, so verses three to five need extra sheets floating in sideways.
