We conclude with the eloquent words of Dr. Seiss: “We do not say that none but Lutherans in name and profession can be saved. But we do assert that if salvation cannot be attained in the Lutheran Church, or the highway of eternal life cannot be found in her, there is no such thing as salvation. There is no God but the God she confesses. There is no sacred Scripture which she does not receive and teach. There is no Christ but the Christ of her confession, hope and trust. There are no means of Grace ordained of God, but those which she uses, and insists on having used. There are no promises and conditions of divine acceptance, but those which she puts before men for their comfort. And there is no other true Ministry, Church, or Faith, than that which she acknowledges and holds.”
THE LUTHERAN CHURCH.
My Church! my Church! my dear
old Church!
My fathers’ and my own!
On Prophets and Apostles built,
And Christ the Corner-stone!
All else beside, by storm or tide
May yet be overthrown;
But not my Church, my dear old Church,
My fathers’ and my own!
My Church! my Church!
my dear old Church!
My glory
and my pride!
Firm in the faith Immanuel
taught,
She holds
no faith beside.
Upon this rock, ’gainst
every shock,
Though gates
of hell assail,
She stands secure, with
promise sure,
“They
never shall prevail.”
My Church! my Church!
my dear old Church!
I love her
ancient name;
And God forbid a child
of hers
Should ever
do her shame!
Her mother-care I’ll
ever share,
Her child
I am alone,
Till He who gave me
to her arms
Shall call
me to His own.
My Church! my Church!
my dear old Church!
I’ve
heard the tale of blood,
Of hearts that loved
her to the death—
The great,
the wise, the good.
Our martyred sires defied
the fires
For Christ
the Crucified;
The once-delivered faith
to keep
They burned,
they bled, they died.
My Church! my Church!
I love my Church,
For she
exalts my Lord;
She speaks, she breathes,
she teaches not
But from
His written Word;
And if her voice bids
me rejoice,
From all
my sins released,
‘Tis through th’
atoning sacrifice,
And Jesus
is the Priest.
My Church! my Church!
I love my Church,
For she
doth lead me on
To Zion’s palace
Beautiful,
Where Christ
my Lord hath gone.
From all below she bids
me go
To Him,
the Life, the Way,
The truth to guide my
erring feet
From darkness
into day.
Then here, my Church!
my dear old Church!
Thy child
would add a vow
To that whose token
once was signed
Upon his
infant brow:
Assault who may, kiss
and betray,
Dishonor
and disown,
MY CHURCH SHALL YET
BE DEAR TO ME,
MY FATHERS’
AND MY OWN!