Of kings and of beggars,
Of black and of white,
Of sinners all different,
Tied together in Christ.
Of gathering in the Word,
Of devotion and song,
Of prayer and reflection
And knowing our wrong.
Of experiencing salvation,
Of giving great thanks
Of desiring to serve
In God’s holy ranks.
Of seeing new parents
Bring their child to the fount.
Of eating and drinking
Of blessings none can count.
Of meeting to study,
A rendezvous for rest.
Of feeling at peace
With the ones we love best.
Of laughter and cheer,
Of witnessing two wed,
Of tears of pure joy
As lifelong vows are read.
Of sorrow and heartache,
Of mourning one gone,
Of tears that remember
The promises we wait on.
Of communion of saints,
Of joy found in Christ.
Of living and learning
Of His life sacrificed.
Of happy hands lifted high
In thanksgiving and praise,
Of humble heads bowed low
As we number our days.
All these things happen,
All in one place.
Not some giant arena,
Or a vast, open space.
Instead, a house of worship,
Maybe large, maybe small,
Where God is enthroned,
Exalted above all.
One place for our joys
And sorrows and rest.
For with God and His people,
In the church we are blessed.
— Poem, Anonymous
Young Calvinists 