A CHURCH IN THE AIR

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jun 23, 1859

A CHURCH IN THE AIR.

Once wandering through the land of dreams, In search of something new, A church—'twas on a Sabbath morn— My curious notice drew; And thinking I should see the mode Of Christian worship there, I entered just in time to hear The closing hymn and prayer.

The church was rich without display; From gorgeous colors free; Through unstained glass the light of heaven Was shining cheerfully, And rich and poor sat side by side; I saw no cushioned pews, Whose doors the meanest of the flock An entrance might refuse.

And when the hymn was given out, With what astonished face I watched a lady clad in silk Bend forward from her place, To share her book with one whose robes So scanty were, and mean, No maiden form of earthly mould To greet her would be seen.

And yet I saw not that the deed Lessened a single grace, But rather that a sweeter look Beamed on the maiden's face. And while I pondered in my mind, How such a thing could be, The whole assembly joined to sing Some time-worn melody.

Vainly I strove with modern ear To catch the organ's tone; Those simple Christians swell the praise, Of God by voice alone. And here no fashionable airs, The tedium to beguile, Are set to solemn hymns of praise, And sung in opera style.

And yet the music of that choir Right pleasant was to hear, Though nothing in the strain I found, To please a critic's ear; But childhood joined in ringing tones With those of faltering age, And rich and poor, and old and young, In the blest work engage.

I listened, and my thoughts recurred To many a boasted choir In city church, who weekly meet To praise the Lord for hire; And well, thought I, the church of God This mockery might spare. I ceased—for every head was bowed In reverential prayer.

And all in spirit seemed to join, Nor could I well forbear, For Christ, and not the minister, Was most apparent there. In words of charity and love Did the whole world embrace, Unfettered by the love of sect, That modern Christian grace.

And little did I care to know If Old the School or New, From whence the soul of such a man Its rich instruction drew. His teacher none could well mistake; One only can impart Lessons of wisdom that can guide A sinful, human heart.

Too soon that fervent prayer was o'er, The benediction asked, And slowly down the spacious aisles The congregation passed. Slowly, as one might turn his back Upon the gates of heaven, After a taste of angel's food, Unto his soul was given.

And now kind greetings were exchanged, With many a friendly word, And Christians met as Christians should, Who serve one common Lord. One heart, one mind, one earnest will Seemed to inspire the whole, As friend to friend with freedom told The welfare of his soul.

Strange, though it seem, no single word These curious folks did say, Of "politics," of rise in stocks, Or gossip of the day. Not only did they "shut up shop," And lock the office door, They turned the key on worldly thoughts, Till holy time was o'er.

The sermon, while a group discussed, I listened in amaze, And marveled at the words they used, When speaking in its praise. They did not call it "great," or "deep," "Ingenious," "witty," "smart," Or "thank their stars they had a man After the people's heart."

But whispered low, with moistened eyes, "How precious was the word; How full of hope the promises Their strengthened souls had heard;" And murmured blessings on his head, Who, laboring by their side In all simplicity and truth, Preached Christ the crucified.

I heard, and could not silence keep, "Thrice happy souls," I cried, "Am I in heaven?" With sudden start My eyes I opened wide— Looked round a moment in amaze— Saw my mistake with pain, And never since have dared to take A nap in church again.

[Hartford Courant.