My series “Then Sings My Soul: The Hymns of My Youthâ€? (â€?HoMYâ€?) continues with one of those “imaginary St. Peter” numbers written by James M. Black in 1893.

Black, a Meth­od­ist Sun­day school teach­er in Wil­liams­port, Penn­syl­van­ia, was call­ing roll one day for a youth meet­ing. Young Bes­sie, daugh­ter of a drunk­ard, did not show up, and he was dis­ap­point­ed at her fail­ure to ap­pear. Black made a com­ment to the ef­fect, “Well, I trust when the roll is called up yon­der, she’ll be there.� He tried to re­spond with an ap­prop­ri­ate song, but could not find one in his song book:

This lack of a fit­ting song caused me both sor­row and dis­ap­point­ment. An in­ner voice seemed to say, “Why don’t you write one?â€? I put away the thought. As I opened the gate on my way home, the same thought came again so strong­ly that tears filled my eyes. I en­tered the house and sat down at the pi­a­no. The words came to me ef­fort­less­ly…The tune came the same way—I dared not change a sin­gle note or word.

It is striking to me that so many hymns and songs seem have similar stories of how they “just came” to the writer. Years later, no matter what we think of the song in our context, we can realize that it meant something to the one in which it first landed… and probably more than it does in our own. Still, there’s a longevity to many of these hymns that a lot of our more recent “disposable” replacements simply don’t have.

When the roll is called up yonder

When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound, and time shall be no more,
And the morning breaks, eternal, bright and fair;
When the saved of earth shall gather over on the other shore,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

Refrain:
      When the roll is called up yonder,
      When the roll is called up yonder,
      When the roll is called up yonder,
      When the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

On that bright and cloudless morning when the dead in Christ shall rise,
And the glory of His resurrection share;
When His chosen ones shall gather to their home beyond the skies,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

(Refrain)

Let us labor for the Master from the dawn till setting sun,
Let us talk of all His wondrous love and care;
Then when all of life is over, and our work on earth is done,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

It’s a “fun” hymn in a way… but to know an eternal hope and have confidence in its fulfillment… now there’s a sweet kind of knowing that makes it kinda… well, celebratory. Catch it evolving into a jazz arrangement by Patti Moran McCoy on piano at Andre Crouch’s Church… sweet. See ya there.

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