Okay, so I don’t suppose there’s going to be any way to avoid snickering entirely, but try to control the guffaws, eh?
In 1917, the young ladies of Boise Ward’s teen class wanted to put on a special presentation for their Sunday School. Talks? Nah, everybody did that. Music, either vocal or instrument? Done that, too. Recite poetry? No! Something artistic! was called for.
They liked Charles Wesley’s hymn “Jesus, Lover of My Soul”:
Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, till the storm of life is past.
Safe into the haven guide; oh, receive my soul at last.
Other refuge have I none; hangs my helpless soul on thee.
Leave, oh, leave me not alone; still support and comfort me.
All my trust on thee is stayed; all my help from thee I bring.
Cover my defenseless head with the shadow of thy wing.
Such dramatic images it created, with its flying, and rolling, and hiding, and hanging. Why, you could almost dance to it, couldn’t you?
Dance? Well, why the heck not?
Ladies and gentlemen, I bring to you the Pantomime Drill of “Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” presented by the Theological Class of Boise Ward Sunday School in the spring of 1917, under the direction of Sister Lydia W. McKendrick.
(Sisters Labrum, Taylor, McMillan, Worthington, Arthur, Daniels, and Asbury)