Forgotten and far away a ringing echos from my childhood days. Steep belfries built atop stone walled churches rose far above cobblestone streets. I first heard their toll among red tiled roof tops in the small German town of Buren. Every hour on the hour someone would ring the bells. The first annoying peels were a difficult sound to accept. After many days of repetitive droll they were a welcome sound in that foreign land.

When the bells would ring, the rural German folk would rise and open their shades. On school days the German children would come and go to class by the ringing of the bells. Occasionally a lone dong would slowly repeat for almost an hour. It seemed to proclaim a death or some such news. On the days of their German celebrations the bells rang joyously as they were made to turn with more urgency. I do not think of that foreign land often but I can remember very clearly the ringing of the bells.

Just a few years ago on a Sunday morning I watched as an American believer with aged hands grasped and tugged the rope above which turned the bells. In pleasant weather or troubled skies those hands were faithful to make the sound. The day he was no longer able to ring the church bells, children who were always watchful of his work asked to ring the bells for him.

Without his hand to turn the bells another will make the sound. The cheerful bells will still call the church to worship. Oh, but the sad notes that also ring from the loss. Our dear brother needs no bell in heaven to ring out praise to the King. In awe I consider the possibility of celestial bells that bring sound before the Lord.

Hand bells press into the hands of children as they practice musical programs for a performance. The ringers are making music even before they learn their parts. Soon their synchronized bells will share joyful songs in ringing unison that render an audience to silent worship. Even the young with very small hand’s ring praise to the Lord.

Just across town at mid day a bell tolls out from another tower. It brings an announcement without words. Carried through the air a ringing echo tumbles downward to all who are listening. It tells us the time. As the street comes alive with the welcome greeting they remind us to pause and look up.

The day of rest awakens to the ring of a roll call. Smiling saints already in worship, stroll through the doors. The strains of music from above call all who will believe with an invitation to the truth. Even as the soothing banner fades the new call sounds and a choir sings loudly, "Ring the bells! Ring the bells! Ring the hall-e-lu-jah bells! Ring the bells! Ring the bells! Come on ring the bells!"