What a strange religion it must be,
That Sunday Christianity!
That praises God just once a week,
And then His favor hopes to seek.
All dressed up nice in Sunday best,
They gather there with all the rest.
They sit and wonder where to eat,
And watch the clock, with itchy feet.
Their minds not focused, unaware,
Of why the really gather there.
With somber tones they sing and speak.
They should rejoice, their joy complete,
That who was dead is now arisen.
A hope for heaven, He has given.
They sit and listen, but do they hear?
The message is so loud, so clear.
I pity them, they think it's good,
That they are doing all they should.
They think they're safe in ivory tower,
By listening, singing for an hour.
They listen to His Word and yet
The important part seem to forget!
We're supposed to study every day,
To seek His face in every way.
Pray and walk a Christian walk,
Guard our tongues 'gainst foolish talk.
Do not cuss, be humble, kind.
Banish lust from out our mind.
Not just on Sunday; all the time.
Seek His will and do not thine.
Christ did not die for all our sin,
So once a week we could thank him!
So live each day as Christ would do,
Not just on Sunday; all week through.
I pray one day we all are free,
From Sunday Christianity