1 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,
calling the souls of men distressed,
longing for life everlasting.

2 Surely in temples made with hands
God, the Most High is not dwelling;
high in the heav'ns his temple stands,
all earthly temples excelling.
Yet he who dwells in heav'n above
deigns to abide with us in love,
making our bodies his temple.

3 We are God's house of living stones,
built for his own habitation;
he fills our hearts, his humble thrones,
granting us life and salvation.
Were two or three to seek his face,
he is their midst would show his grace,
blessings upon them bestowing.

4 Yet in this house, an earthly frame,
Jesus his children is blessing;
higher we come to praise his name,
faith in our Savior confessing.
Jesus to us his Spirit sent,
making with us his covenant,
granting his children the kingdom.

5 Now we may gather with our King
e'en in the lowliest dwelling;
praises to him we there may bring,
his wondrous mercy forth-telling.
Jesus his grace to us accords,
spirit and life are all his words;
his truth doth hallow the temple.