A Christmas reminder from poet Edgar Guest

God builds no churches. By His plan, that labor has been left to man. No spires miraculously arise, no little mission from the skies falls on a bleak and barren place to be a source of strength and grace. The humblest church demands its price of human toil and sacrifice.

The humblest spire in mortal ken, where God abides, was built by men. And if the church is still to grow, is still the light of hope to throw across the valleys of despair, man still must build God's house of prayer. God sends no churches from the skies. Out of our hearts they must arise!