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#702 - Kirken den er et gammelt Hus (The Church is an Old house—Norwegian)
- Composer:
- Ludvig Mathias Lindeman
- Also known as:
- Built On the Rock
- Incipit: 11531345567534211153134556753421
- Condensed Incipit: 153134567534215313456753421
- Lyrics:
Kirken den er et gammelt hus,
Står, om end tårnene falde;
Tårne fuldmange sank i grus,
Klokker end kime og kalde,
Kalde på gammel og på ung,
Mest dog på sjælen træt og tung,
Syg for den evige hvile.
Himlenes Gud vist ej bebor
Huse, som hænder mon bygge,
Arkepaulunet var på jord
Kun af hans tempel en skygge;
Dog sig en bolig underfuld
Bygged han selv af støv og muld,
Rejste af gruset i nåde.
Vi er Guds hus og kirke nu,
Bygget af levende stene,
Som under kors med ærlig hu
Troen og dåben forene;
Var vi på jord ej mer end to,
Bygge dog ville han og bo
Hos os i hele sin vælde.
Samles vi kan da med vor drot
Selv i den laveste hytte,
Finde med Peder: her er godt!
Tog ej al verden i bytte;
Nær som sit ord i allen stund
Er han vort hjerte og vor mund,
Drot over tiden og rummet.
Husene dog med kirkenavn,
Bygte til Frelserens ære,
Hvor han de små tog tit i favn,
Er os som hjemmet så kære;
Dejlige ting i dem er sagt,
Sluttet har der med os sin pagt
Han, som os Himmerig skænker.
Fonten os minder om vor dåb,
Altret om nadverens nåde,
Alt med Guds ord om tro og håb
Og om Guds kærligheds gåde,
Huset om ham, hvis ord består,
Kristus, i dag alt som i går,
Evig Guds Søn, vor genløser.
Give da Gud, at hvor vi bo,
Altid, når klokkerne ringe,
Folket forsamles i Jesu tro
Der, hvor det plejed at klinge:
Verden vel ej, men I mig ser,
Alt hvad jeg siger, se, det sker,
Fred være med Eder alle!
- Nicolai Frederik Severin Grundtvig
- Lyrics:
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, wherever 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.”
- Carl Doving (1867-1937), 1909
1)
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