Anniversary

My church

My church is celebrating our 150th anniversary this year. Ours is a small country church that was built by Norwegians. For many years my children were the “youth group” of the church—a majority of the members are retired. I remember my daughter telling me once that we had attended a different church when we moved here in hopes of finding friends for the children, but in this church, “everyone is our friend.” It was like my children suddenly had a dozen extra grandparents!

We are getting a choir together to sing a couple of songs at Easter. Today we practiced the hymn that will be our theme song for this year—appropriate in many ways. This is one of my favorites--it is sung with men and women standing shoulder-to-shoulder declaring their faith. In my memories I can hear the deep base of the men and the echoes of strong voices reverberating off the walls of the churches I have attended, sung with the gusto that comes from a faith in one who can lead us through all of life's paths. I thought I’d print out the words for you and link you to the melody in case it is new.

Built on a Rock

Built on a rock the Church shall 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,
Calling the souls of those distressed,
Longing for life everlasting.

Not in our temples made with hands
God, the Almighty, is dwelling;
High in the heav’ns his temple stands,
All earthly temples excelling.
Yet he who dwells in heav’n above
Deigns to abide with us in love,
Making our bodies his temple.

We are God’s House of living stones,
Built for his own habitation;
He fills our hearts, his humble thrones,
Granting us life and salvation.
Were two or three to seek his face,
He in their midst would show his grace,
Blessings upon them bestowing.

Yet in this house, an early frame,
Jesus the children is blessing;
Hither we come to praise his name,
Faith in our Savior confessing.
Jesus to us his Spirit sent,
Making with us his covenant,
Granting his children the kingdom.

Through all the passing years, O Lord,
Grant that, when church bells are ringing,
Many may come to hear God’s word
Where he this promise is bringing:
I know my own, my own know me;
You, not the world, my face shall see;
My peace I leave with you. Amen.

-----Text: Nikolai F.S. Grundig; tr. Carl Doving