From my "lost days" I remember some words from a song; "Sunday morning coming down" at least that is the snippet or title that was recalled.  That is a truth for Sunday, as a day of worship as oppossed to just a day of the week, must come down.  Sundays always felt different.  Each day of the week had it's own flavor.  Sunday was unfermented grape juice and unleavened bread.  It felt like a day that God dropped into the week from above.  Today Sunday still feels different.  As a pastor it feels hurried, bustling and shortened.  But every now and then God moves in a special way and Sunday is brought down from Heaven so we mere mortals can experience the celestial realm.  When that happens, some little boy in  me breaks into a grin.  Grandma smiles from Heavens gates and the love of God is alive in church.  Sunday morning has come down.