Built on the Rock the Church shall stand
Even when steeples are falling.
Crumbled have spires in ev'ry 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 who dwells in heav'n above
Chooses to live with us in love,
Making our bodies his temple.

We are God's house of living stones,
Built for his own 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.

Here stands the font before our eyes,
Telling how God did receive us.
Th' altar recalls Christ's sacrifice
And what the sacrament gives us.
Here sound the Scriptures that proclaim
Christ yesterday, today, the same,
And evermore, our Redeemer.

Grant then, O God, your will be done,
That, when the church bells are ringing,
Many in saving faith may come
Where Christ his message is bringing:
"I know my own; my own know me.
You, not the world, my face shall see.
My peace I leave with you always."

Text, Tune, Setting: public domain.