A temple not made with hands

Lord Jesus, you are above us-reigning.

We believe it.

That is what gives us the serenity to achieve.

Years ago there were doubting Thomases.

But this place has been renewed.

And we thank you.

Lord Jesus, you are before us-directing.

We believe it.

That is what gives us the courage to go on.

New challenges already beckon and again we sometimes dither.

But it is you that directs.

It is you who beckons.

So we dedivcate ouselves.

And we bless you.

Lord Jesus, you are beneath us.

We believe it.

When we slip you catch us.

When we kick you in the face, you just serve us.

And when we pack in and fall right down,

you come further down just to be beside us.

In awe we thank you.

Lord Jesus, you are within each of us.

Our hope of glory, of being complete.

We believe it.

It is not just the interior of these walls:

it's our own inner beings you have renewed.

We are your temple not made with hands.

We are your body.

If every wall should crumble, and every church decay,

we are your habitation.

Nearer are you than breathing, closer than hands and feet.

Ours are the eyes with which you, in the mystery,

look out in compassion on the world.

So we bless you for this place.

For your directing of us, your redeeming of us,

and your indwelling.

Take us "outside the camp", Lord.

Outside holiness.

Out to where soldiers gamble,

and thieves curse,

and nations clash

at the cross-roads of the world.

Maul us up, as you were mauled.

So shall this building continue to be justified.