Ron Maxwell “The First Hymn: What an Ancient Song..”

“The First Hymn: What an Ancient Song..” Teaches Us About Preservation Today”

The First Hymn traces the discovery and reconstruction of what is believed to be the oldest known Christian hymn,  a piece of early worship preserved in an ancient Egyptian manuscript and brought back to life for modern audiences. The film opens in theatres nationwide through Fathom Entertainment on March 24 and 26.

I had the opportunity to view an advance screening of the documentary ahead of its theatrical release. It happened to be a day when I had been up unusually early, around 2:00 a.m., and by the end of a long workday, I began watching the film before turning in for the night.

Under normal circumstances, when I turn on the television at that hour, I last about fifteen minutes before completely nodding off. My wife will tell you she is usually the one who ends up turning the screen off.

That was not the case this time.

Instead, I found myself holding my iPhone Pro Max in my hand, fully engaged for the entire one hour and 34 minutes. I watched it straight through. I was genuinely absorbed from beginning to end. That rarely happens at the end of a long day.

From its opening moments, the documentary demonstrates exceptional production quality and thoughtful pacing. The host guides the narrative with clarity and credibility, leading viewers through historical, theological, and musical context without overwhelming the story.

What makes The First Hymn especially compelling is its journey through time. The film traces fragments of early Christian worship preserved in Egyptian manuscripts and unfolds the scholarly effort to reconstruct what is believed to be the oldest surviving Christian hymn. The storytelling builds deliberately, allowing the weight of the discovery to settle in before moving forward.

The creative process becomes one of the most fascinating aspects of the film. Watching contemporary Christian artists Chris Tomlin and Australian songwriter Ben Fielding work from a partially preserved manuscript creates a powerful intersection between scholarship and modern worship expression. The documentary does not gloss over the gaps in the ancient text; rather, it invites viewers into the careful decisions required to reconstruct something sacred yet incomplete. That transparency ultimately makes the finished hymn even more meaningful.

And the payoff truly is satisfying.

The closing portion of the film presents the hymn in multiple expressions. In one setting, Chris Tomlin leads it in a contemporary worship environment before a live audience. In another, the hymn is arranged in a more traditional choral style. Both interpretations are thoughtfully executed, and each underscores something profound: while musical styles evolve, worship itself remains constant. The ancient words carry weight whether sung with modern instrumentation or traditional harmony. It is not the style that preserves the power; it is the substance of the worship itself.

As I watched the documentary move from fragile manuscript fragments to living, breathing worship, I found myself thinking about preservation in a broader sense.

The original hymn survived for centuries on a deteriorating fragment of material, fragile and exposed to time, yet somehow enduring. That ancient fragment required no electricity, no server, no password, only preservation. It is remarkable that something so physically vulnerable outlasted empires and cultural shifts to be rediscovered today.

That image stood in sharp contrast to something I have witnessed firsthand.

Over the years, I have opened some cases of commercially produced CDs only to find them completely deteriorated and unplayable. What once seemed permanent has, in some cases, already vanished. The reflective layers break down. The data becomes unreadable. The music is gone.

Digital media, while convenient and widely accessible, carries its own concerns. Files stored on hard drives, cloud servers, or streaming platforms depend on ongoing maintenance, evolving formats, consistent power, and active management. Without electricity, functioning servers, and regular system updates, digital collections can instantly become inaccessible. Unlike physical artifacts that can sit untouched for centuries and still be rediscovered, digital content is dependent on infrastructure. If that infrastructure fails, whether through technological obsolescence, corporate shutdowns, cyberattacks, data corruption, or widespread power disruption, access to vast amounts of music can vanish overnight.

Scholars and archivists have raised concerns about what some call a potential “digital dark age,” a future in which large portions of digital content become unreadable or lost due to obsolete formats, degraded storage media, lost encryption keys, outdated software, or neglected data migration. The assumption that digital lasts forever is, in reality, far from guaranteed.

We live in an era of unprecedented musical output. More Christian music is being written, recorded, and distributed than at any other time in history. Yet we may also be living in one of the most vulnerable periods in terms of long-term preservation. Convenience can create complacency. Accessibility can mask fragility.

The rediscovery of this ancient Hymn illustrates a larger truth:

When something survives, it has the opportunity to speak again.

Survival is not accidental. It is the result of stewardship.

As someone deeply involved in Christian music preservation, I see daily how fragile sacred recordings can be, and how powerful they remain when safeguarded and shared. Without intentional efforts to archive, catalog, digitize responsibly, and maintain access, much of today’s worship music could quietly fade away.

Music has always supported the theology, unity, and endurance of the Church. Early believers sang their faith before many could read it. Doctrine was carried in melody. Truth was remembered in verse.

What survived from centuries past now sings again because someone valued it enough to protect it.

In our time, the responsibility is no different.

Projects like The First Hymn should inspire all of us to value, protect, and pass forward the music that has carried our faith. Preservation is not nostalgia; it is stewardship. It is an acknowledgment that worship is not disposable.  It is, quite simply, music worth saving.

When something survives, it has the opportunity to speak again,  and what we preserve today determines what will sing tomorrow.

Watch a brief one-minute video reflection inspired by the documentary:  https://youtu.be/Feoo1bSNvs4

Ron Maxwell serves as President of Christian Music Preservation Project®, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit dedicated to preserving and promoting historic Christian music recordings. He has worked in Christian radio since the 1980s, including serving as a national music director and morning host for Moody Radio. Contact Ron at communitynetradio@gmail.com