Sweet By and By 

In the Sweet By and By, music by Joseph P. Webster (1819-1875) and words by Sanford F. Bennett (1836-1898). New music for second verse composed by Ralph C. Brashier in 2024. Music for second verse copyright 2024. This recording September 2024. All rights reserved.
As I child, I awoke each morning to my mother singing hymns as she cooked breakfast for our family at 6 a.m. Largely because of her, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love hymns and hymn singing.
As I played in the solitude of my childhood sandpile, where I built imaginary cities and dreamed of becoming an architect, I was constantly singing hymns (loudly). I would ride my bike all over town singing hymns (at the top of my lungs). My sister was embarrassed and mortified by my behavior. “Mama, make him stop. Mama, make him stop.” No use. I sang hymns, not because I thought I was good, but because hymn singing made me happy. It still does.
(I am a strange adult, so it should come as no surprise that I was a strange child. A strange but very happy child.)
In graduate school, a course in hymnody was among my favorites. I find it terribly sad that so many Protestant churches have forsaken their rich heritage of beautiful hymns. Some churches have even thrown their hymnals away. (I won’t say more.)
Of course, I have favorite hymns and, to be frank, hymns that even I would just as soon leave behind. One hymn that I avoided for years was “In the Sweet By and By.” Until I was middle-aged, I thought it was corny and cornpone, especially the echo in the chorus. (“In the sweet”-“In the sweet”-“by and by”-“by and by.”) Cue the Hooterville choir.
But when I was 35, my maternal grandfather died. He was a farmer with little education who worked very hard all his life. His funeral service was simple. Some of the men attended in their workday overalls. And we sang “In the Sweet By and By.” Suddenly, the words and melody of what I had thought was a trite and largely forgettable hymn struck me as true and beautiful. When our loved ones pass away, don’t we all hope to see them again?
I’m an old man now. I turned 67 recently, and my dad died shortly after turning 67. My mother and three of her siblings passed away in the past six months. Inevitably, I think more these days than I used to about death and the loved ones who have gone before. This old song-with simple words and no fancy chord progressions-brings me comfort.
I wrote a new tune for the second verse, and I hope I can be forgiven for doing so.