A veteran band like MercyMe (who are now well into their third decade together) can be a bit like a wacky uncle that you look forward to seeing at Christmastime. You may have heard all of his jokes and funny stories many times over the years, but there is still an excitement and anticipation of seeing him again. Like that beloved uncle, MercyMe is unlikely to have a dramatically different approach to what they do year in and year out, but they still do it well and with all their heart.

Wonder & Awe, the band's latest album, is full of lighthearted moments that still have an undercurrent of sincerity and urgency, and the band rolls out a lot of the same sort of sonic tricks that will likely appeal to their long-term fans. But the inverse can also be said - that the band might be fun and earnest and still be treading water musically and thematically at the same time.

The album starts out with a bit of a throwback southern gospel number, "Canary In A Coal Mine." It's a rousing, stomping old-timey number that would not be out of place on the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack. The track's witty metaphor about the Holy Ghost goes down easy and shows some of the tricks that MercyMe does best.

And then the disjointed nature of the album kicks in full force. "All God's People" is a funky number that marries the musical sensibilities of the band Mutemath with the southern drawl of lead singer Bart Millard. (This makes sense given that album producer Tedd T., who has helmed futuristic, dancy projects from the aforementioned Mutemath and classic artists like Rebecca St. James is at the helm here.) This beat-heavy, groovy side of the band is refreshing, and continues with the bouncy ode to joyful dancing, "Fred Astair." I'm not sure there has ever been a pop / rock song dedicated to this American icon of the screen and stage, but it's an interesting addition here.

The band returns to more familiar, anthemic material with "Overflowing," and the title track "Wonder & Awe." The latter tune serves as a bit of a thesis statement for the album, and is a touching and heartfelt ode to childlike faith: "Sure, it may sound foolish now, but I promise you / I knew deep down, if I believed I could do anything / I'm not sure when it was / My child like faith grew up / Take me back / To eyes open wide / To that kid who once believed / He was always made to fly / I want to be amazed (Oh) / I want to drink it all in (Oh) / I want to see my grown-up Faith feel like a child again / With wonder and awe (Oh)."

But the finest moment on the album is the uplifting first single, "Oh Death" (is this another O Brother, Where Art Thou reference here?) Written as a tribute to Millard's father-in-law after his recent passing, "Oh Death" might be the most joyful funeral song that you will hear. A "party song" in the best way, the tune shows MercyMe's veteran songwriting chops and should be a fun moment in a live setting, "Oh death, I will not be afraid / In the end you will lose / I will dance on your grave / With the One who buried you / You ain't nothin' but a stone / That my Savior rolled away / Set you straight and set me free / Oh, death, you ar? dead to me / Oh, death, you ar? dead to me."

Wonder & Awe has the overall feeling of an odd, disjointed, but truly joyful funeral service, and final track "Heartbroken Hallelujah" rolls out the mournful church pipe organ and sad, wavering trumpet in a great, grief-soaked Southern Gospel closing number. And like any funeral, the album is disjointed and slightly scattered (the dance / electronic moments don't always mesh with the band's overall straightforward pop / rock history), but it's ultimately a well-meaning and sincere effort by the band.

That wacky uncle you see during the holidays may tell a few corny jokes here and there, but it is still good for your heart to see him. And for an endearing band like MercyMe, it's no different.