During my junior year of college, I landed what felt like the musical lottery: my first gig in church music ministry at a cozy little country church. It was the perfect playground for a green music major to begin to test out everything I’d been studying for years at school. I’d only been on the job a few weeks when the pastor waved me over one Sunday afternoon. He led me down a quiet hallway, rounded a corner, and opened a closet door like he was showing off a hidden treasure. Inside? A three-octave set of handbells, still shiny and wrapped in the manufacturer’s plastic. They were brand new and just sitting there!
The pastor explained they’d been donated in memory of a former member, but since nobody actually knew how to use them, the closet had become their home. He looked at me and asked, “Think you can do something with these?” My heart practically skipped a beat. I’d grown up ringing bells and even started composing for them in high school. I told him “Yes!” before he could even finish the question. This was definitely in my wheelhouse.
We had the gear—bells, tables, pads, the whole nine yards—but zero music and a budget that was all but nonexistent. No big deal, right? I leaned into my composing roots and whipped up several hymn arrangements. We got the word out, and when our first rehearsal rolled around, I was blown away. A whole crew of folks showed up, ranging from 12-year-olds to 75-year-olds. They were eager to learn and picked up the skills so fast that it wasn’t long before they were ready for their big debut in worship.
Looking back, that first experience with a mixed-age group shaped how I see and do ministry. Seeing children, parents, and grandparents standing shoulder to shoulder making music and leading worship together was a beautiful reminder of what the church is all about.
There’s something special about blending different life stages into one sound. It’s like what we read in 1 Corinthians 12:4–6: every age, and every single part from the high sopranos to the deep basses, is absolutely essential to the whole body.
There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone it is the same God at work.”
Multigenerational ensembles are a living, breathing example of how we can love and support each other, both inside the church and out in God’s beautiful world.
On a practical level, it’s amazing to watch. Younger singers pick up vocal tips and that “show up and give your best” attitude from the veterans. The kids in handbells learn how to problem-solve by watching the seasoned ringers, and young instrumentalists get masterclasses on things like fingerings and technique. On the flip side, the older members get a huge energy boost from the younger musicians’ excitement and fresh ideas. It’s the perfect way to pass down traditions and stories without it feeling like a history lesson.
For years, our whole music department would team up on Christmas Eve for Natalie Sleeth’s Were You There on That Christmas Night? This simple, gorgeous piece brought everyone together—children’s choirs, youth, adults, and senior adults—plus all our instrumentalists and bell ringers. Hearing everyone sing, “Did you hear how the choirs of angels sang … Did you hear how the bells of heaven rang?” was both holy and celebratory. It was the perfect way to commemorate Christmas: every generation lifting their voices and gifts together.
A multigenerational choir is a visible picture of what it looks like to be united. In a world that often feels divided and sequestered, there’s something wonderful about the church music ministry proclaiming “We’re all in this together.” It’s a living portrait of Jesus’ invitation to the table—reminding us that there’s a seat for everyone, and God’s kingdom has room for everyone.
