Pastors absent on vacation,
Church is closed till his return.
The old man went to meet him,
for the day was bright and fair,
Though his limbs were very tottering,
and it was hard to travel there.
But he hungered for the gospel,
so he trudged the weary way,
On the road so rough and dusty beneath
the summer sun's burning ray.
By and by he reached the building
to his soul a holy place.
And then he paused and wiped the sweat
from his thin and wrinkled face.
But he looked around bewildered
for the old bell didn't toll
And the doors were shut and bolted,
and he didn't see a soul.
But he saw a little notice tacked
upon the meetin' door,
So he limped along to read it,
and he read it o 'er and o 'er.
Then he wiped his dusty glasses,
and he read it o 'er again,
till his legs begin to tremble
and his eyes begin to pain.
As the old man read the notice,
how it made his spirit burn,
pastor on vacation,
church closed till his return.
And the old man said,
would the farmer leave his cattle
Or the shepherd leave his sheep?
Why, who would give them care and shelter
Or provide them food to eat?
So it strikes me very singular
When a man with holy hands
Thinks he needs a vacation
Forsakes his tender lambs
Do the markets close their doors
Just to take a little rest?
Why, would be the height of nonsense
For their trade would be distressed
Did you know it ever happened
or hear anybody tell
Satan taking a vacation,
shuttin' up the doors of hell?
Oh, tell me, that when I reach that
city over on the other shore
Would I find a little notice
tacked upon the golden door?
Telling me, dreadful silence,
written words that cut and burn,
Jesus absent on vacation,
Heaven closed till
His return.
Pastors absent on vacation,
Church is closed till his return.