Built on the Rock

Built on the rock the church doth stand

Even when stee­ples are fall­ing;

Crumbled have spires in ev­ery land

Bells still are chim­ing and call­ing;

Calling the young and old to rest

But above all the soul dis­tressed

Longing for rest ev­er­last­ing.

Surely in tem­ples made with hands

God

the Most High

is not dwell­ing;

High ab­ove earth His tem­ple stands

All earth­ly tem­ples ex­cel­ling;

Yet He whom heav­ens can­not con­tain

Chose to ab­ide on earth with men

Built in our bo­dies His tem­ple.

We are God’s house of liv­ing stones

Builded for His ha­bi­ta­tion;

He through bap­tis­mal grace us owns

Heirs of His won­drous sal­va­tion;

Were we but two His name to tell

Yet He would deign with us to dwell

With all His grace and His fa­vor.

Now we may ga­ther with our king;

Even in the low­li­est dwell­ing:

Praises to Him we there may bring

His won­drous mer­cy fore­tell­ing;

Jesus His grace to us ac­cords

Spirit and life are all His words

His truth doth hal­low the tem­ple.

Still we our earth­ly tem­ples rear

That we may her­ald His prais­es;

They are the homes where He draws near

And lit­tle child­ren em­brac­es

Beautiful things in them are said

God there with us His co­ve­nant made

Making us heirs of His king­dom.

Here stands the font be­fore our eyes

Telling how God did re­ceive us;

The al­tar re­calls Christ’s sac­ri­fice

And what His ta­ble doth give us;

Here sounds the Word that doth pro­claim

Christ yes­ter­day

to­day

the same

Yea

and for aye our Re­deem­er.

Grant then

O God

wher­e’er men roam

That

when the church bells are ring­ing

Many in sav­ing faith may come

Where Christ His mes­sage is bring­ing:

I know Mine own

Mine own know Me;

Ye

not the world

My face shall see.

My peace I leave with you

Amen.