Psalm Singing Under the Acadiana Moonlight
By J. Christian Lewis
By Providence, autumn nights in Acadiana often harmonize with man’s activities like a well-sung four-part hymn—or psalm. Wednesday at Arnaudville’s Bayou Teche Brewery was just such an evening. Under a full moon and in pleasant temperatures, Christians gathered beneath string lights to sing psalms.
The air carried the smell of pizza, cigars, and beer—an intentional joy marking a brand of Reformation that sanctifies festivity rather than retreats from it.
A Gathering of Psalms and People
Pastor Stuart Amidon, the night’s energetic conductor, led well over one hundred voices singing Psalm 134 “Behold, bless the Lord.” This was the third Psalm Sing event hosted at Bayou Teche, and, as Amidon noted, it was the largest yet.
The scene was vibrant and earthy. Between psalms, conversations flowed about deer stands and hunting plans, due dates and baby names, “pretty watches”, and even speculative talk about how traveling at light speed might affect the body. Toddlers chased one another between picnic tables while expectant mothers and young fathers lifted their voices together. The crowd—mostly young families and singles in their twenties through forties—sang with the gratitude of those who know salvation, marriage, children, and their calling as tangible mercies.
Two Pastors, One Vision
Pastor Brandon Nealy and Amidon—fellow pastors and friends—embody something of a personality yin and yang. Nealy, characteristically introverted, stood on the edge of the crowd, content to observe and engage in low key conversations. Amidon, the extrovert, moved constantly, conducting with visible zeal, punctuating the closing of each psalm with joyful yells.
Both are pastors within the Christ Church communion—Nealy in Lafayette, Amidon in Opelousas. Nealy helped found Christ Church and its ministry, Christ Church Academy, a classical Christian school. Amidon, equally driven by his Reformed convictions, founded the Opelousas Pregnancy Center, seeing the Christian faith as something that should take tangible root in the Acadiana soil.
Voices from the Night
“We wanted to participate in a public display of our faith,” said Chris Laidlaw. “We’re glad our kids were able to see it and take part.”
“To praise the Lord, to sing some songs in public and drink some beer,” said Mandy Kidder, smiling, on why they attended. “For our kids—they need to be able to feel comfortable worshiping in public with their community.”
“It’s wonderful,” said Steven Marsalis, pipe in hand and attending his third Psalm Sing. “We get to fellowship, drink beer, eat pizza, and glorify God by singing hymns. It’s also about reclaiming the public square for Christ. The church has been far too timid for far too long.”
Jonathan Dupuis, attending for the first time with his wife and two young sons, reflected, “I came to experience Christ Church’s culture. It’s multi-generational—richer than what the world offers. Public singing and fellowship are good for the soul and for the world to see. If people see it and start asking questions, that’s a good thing.”
Abby Zerangue added, “I just love seeing our church come together and sing—especially that all the men sing heartily. It’s special.”
Mandi and Kevin Kidder
Intentional Joy
Amidon and Nealy, both theologically Reformed, share a conviction: the modern church, in addition to losing cultural and political influence, also lost its natural capacity for joyful gathering. Recovering that joy, they insist, will help regain influence but requires intentionality—and Psalm Sings are one such act of recovery.
The event, with its laughter, psalms, and pints, could be seen as a baptized modern-Acadian echo of the local English pub life that persisted under Christian influence through the first half of the twentieth century—think the convivial scenes of the BBC’s All Creatures Great and Small. It is, paradoxically, an intentional organic event, since many to attend have to drive half an hour on a weeknight.
Both hope that what may seem anachronistic or out of step now may, God willing, become woven into a larger community fabric for those nursing infants and chasing toddlers and their families on future Wednesday evenings.
At its root, the Psalm Sing is an outgrowth of a church culture that forms biblical households—where men lead their families in worship, including singing, and where faith finds public expression in psalms, laughter, and breaking bread, or pizza.
Between Prohibition and Drunkenness
For these Reformed pastors, beer at a Psalm Sing is not rebellion but reclamation- a navigation between the unbiblical poles of legalistic prohibition and of drunkenness.
Nealy explains it simply: “The main reason we host this event is because we love to hang out with each other. And if there’s anything that makes a party better, it’s pizza and beer. Alcohol is one of God’s great gifts to man—the Bible is clear about that. Of course, as with all God’s gifts, we partake with moderation. But beer is a wonderful gift, and Teche Brewery does it well.”
“Why sing psalms?” he continued. “Because when God gave mankind a book, He put a songbook right in the middle of it. It’s Christian to sing—it’s human to sing. Even the men love to sing at Christ Church. Our psalm sings are filled with men lifting their voices—and at the brewery, lifting a pint.”
Amidon frames it more missionally:
“Christianity is not a private religion. The faith of Scripture has always been public. Jesus was publicly tried; Paul publicly executed; the apostles preached and healed in public. We sing psalms publicly because Christianity is a public faith. We sing at breweries, courthouses, parks—anywhere. We want to be a singing people again. Singing is how God’s words reach hearts, even those who overhear them. His Word does not return void.”
The Psalm and the Benediction
As the final notes rose into the night, the words of Psalm 134 hung under the Acadiana moon like a benediction:
Behold, bless the Lord,
All you servants of the Lord,
Who by night stand in the house of the Lord!
Lift up your hands in the sanctuary,
And bless, bless, bless the Lord.
The Lord who made heaven and earth
Bless, bless, bless you from Zion!
While mosquitoes nipped at bare ankles—a subtle reminder of Adam’s fall—the saints at Bayou Teche Brewery were reminded of another truth: that God advances His kingdom, psalm by psalm, family by family, autumn night by autumn night—even, perhaps especially, through joyful song and fellowship at a local brewery. J. Christian Lewis/AI assisted
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