Night before Sunday
‘Twas the night before Sunday and all through the church
The brass `had been polished and the music rehearsed.
The House was in order, carefully kept;
Vacuumed, dusted, meticulously swept.
The sermon was written; the scriptures were searched;
The bulletins prepared for the red brick church.
Outside the lawn was clean and trim;
All had been done for the love of Him.
Then came the morning and what did I see?
People were coming, a whole company—
Mothers and fathers, and children, too.
Young people, couples, not just a few.
And what do they do when they enter this place?
They pray and they sing of God’s wonderful grace.
They greet and they smile as they meet each other,
Expressing their love for one another.
Who might they be, and what is their name?
Mighty Rivers, the key; serving Christ, their game.
So come on in when Sunday rolls around;
The Lord’s House is where the faithful are found.
The church was God’s idea—it is Providential.
We’ll never believe it is non—essential.