The Risen Christ spread out his arms to welcome everyone,
His shadow fixed upon the cross, thanks to the angled sun,
The new church opened up its doors to walls of pristine white,
The pine of pews and altar looking welcoming and bright.
No jewelled altar sparkled, and no stained glass window shone,
No golden lectern there to lean a leather Bible on,
No weighty chandelier hung down from a painted ceiling,
The natural simplicity was all the more appealing
The children fiddled with their ties and scuffed their polished boots
The mothers in their finery, the fathers in their suits,
The politicians fixed their ties and then they fixed their smiles,
And beamed at everybody as they stood up in the aisles.
Outside the church the local Scouts were gathered in some force,
While inside at the organ there was Sister Clare, of course.
The folk group and the children’s choir were also in in the throng
Hoping their performances would prove to be on song.
The priests of parishes around were there with patience sitting,
With Father Joe among them, which was really only fitting.
The Cardinal was there as well to do the dedication,
And give us all his blessing on this day of celebration.
And many people young and old from round the neighbourhood,
Worked in many different ways to help the common good,
It seemed the whole community had gathered for one day
To share in this great milestone, to worship and to pray.
Father Eugene lead the singing, which was hardly a surprise,
His deep and golden voice surmounting little babies’ cries,
And when the walls were watered and the tabernacle dressed,
Father Jones got up to speak, the way that he does best.
Although we have a brand new church, this isn’t a beginning,
The times are hard but by this church we see that we are winning.
At last we have a real church, a focus for our town,
Another step along the road we’ve chosen to walk down.
The new church is impressive, though its vital that we ought to
Keep in mind that, after all, it’s only bricks and mortar.
What good is such a lovely church, if none goes inside,
Although I’m sure its wooden doors are always open wide?
People make communities, and people shun them too,
Mortice locks and window blinds that noone can see through.
Lets hope this church in Huntstown can draw out both friend and stranger,
And be a haven free from stress, anxiety and danger.
His shadow fixed upon the cross, thanks to the angled sun,
The new church opened up its doors to walls of pristine white,
The pine of pews and altar looking welcoming and bright.
No jewelled altar sparkled, and no stained glass window shone,
No golden lectern there to lean a leather Bible on,
No weighty chandelier hung down from a painted ceiling,
The natural simplicity was all the more appealing
The children fiddled with their ties and scuffed their polished boots
The mothers in their finery, the fathers in their suits,
The politicians fixed their ties and then they fixed their smiles,
And beamed at everybody as they stood up in the aisles.
Outside the church the local Scouts were gathered in some force,
While inside at the organ there was Sister Clare, of course.
The folk group and the children’s choir were also in in the throng
Hoping their performances would prove to be on song.
The priests of parishes around were there with patience sitting,
With Father Joe among them, which was really only fitting.
The Cardinal was there as well to do the dedication,
And give us all his blessing on this day of celebration.
And many people young and old from round the neighbourhood,
Worked in many different ways to help the common good,
It seemed the whole community had gathered for one day
To share in this great milestone, to worship and to pray.
Father Eugene lead the singing, which was hardly a surprise,
His deep and golden voice surmounting little babies’ cries,
And when the walls were watered and the tabernacle dressed,
Father Jones got up to speak, the way that he does best.
Although we have a brand new church, this isn’t a beginning,
The times are hard but by this church we see that we are winning.
At last we have a real church, a focus for our town,
Another step along the road we’ve chosen to walk down.
The new church is impressive, though its vital that we ought to
Keep in mind that, after all, it’s only bricks and mortar.
What good is such a lovely church, if none goes inside,
Although I’m sure its wooden doors are always open wide?
People make communities, and people shun them too,
Mortice locks and window blinds that noone can see through.
Lets hope this church in Huntstown can draw out both friend and stranger,
And be a haven free from stress, anxiety and danger.
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