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Congregation Unitarian Universalist
Discussion Theme: Our Work, Our Selves
A Celebration for Labor Day
En Español
Poetic Prelude: Throw Yourself Like Seed
~ Miguel De Unamuno ~
Opening Words
He who labours, prays.
attributed to Saint Aurelius Augustine
It is the first of all problems for a man to find out what kind of work he is to do in this universe.
Thomas Carlyle, Address at Edinburgh
Let no one till his death Be called unhappy. Measure not the work
Until the day's out and the labour done.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh (bk. V, l. 78)
A man may fulfill the object of his existence by asking a question he cannot answer, and attempting a task he cannot achieve. Oliver Wendell Holmes Lighting the Chalice: Read Responsively
Prayer: (Followed by a moment of silent meditation)
Affirmation: # 567 "To Be of Use" ~Marge Piercy~
Joys and Concerns: (We throw a small stone into this bowl filled with water, to symbolize our thoughts, which move in circular rings eternally, like concentric waves.)
Story for All Ages: (the children go to Religious Education at the end of the story and the adults sing "Spirit of Life" )
Hymn::
First Reading - Franz Kafka
*Hymn: For All That Is Our Lives
Second Reading: John Gardner
Homily: Excerpted from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
Discussion Theme: Our Work, Our Selves (Copyright: First Unitarian Church San José)
Share your thoughts about the journey that led you to your work and its relationship to your image of self. Let us focus on not what we each of us do but HOW it is done.
Take some time to ponder and discuss these questions in the Labor Day season.
Hymn and Closing Circle of Hands (We link arms while we read )
*Hymn:
Shake off this sadness, and recover your spirit
sluggish you will never see the wheel of fate
that brushes your heel as it turns going by,
the man who wants to live is the man in whom life is abundant.
Now you are only giving food to that final pain
which is slowly winding you in the nets of death,
but to live is to work, and the only thing which lasts
is the work; start then, turn to the work.
Throw yourself like seed as you walk, and into your own field,
don't turn your face for that would be to turn it to death,
and do not let the past weigh down your motion.
Leave what's alive in the furrow, what's dead in yourself,
for life does not move in the same way as a group of clouds;
from your work you will be able one day to gather yourself.
As the darkness calms
and gentles the ragged edges of life
So thy dawn breaking over our days
blesses us to our work in the world.
Light and shadow weave together
in this astonishing dance of life
All: in which we live and move and have our being.
In the quietness of this place and in the Spirit of this Community in which we share and find strength let us pray. Keep fresh before us the moments of high resolve, that in good times or in tempests, we may not forget that we are a justice seeking people. The common prayer of our souls is a petition for persistence; not for the one good deed, or single thought, but deed upon deed, and thought upon thought, and thus we shall strive to find the strength and common purpose in all our work so we may lead a life worth living.
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.
We invite you to share your joys and concerns since our last meeting.
# 123 (STLT)
"Spirit of Life" by Carolyn McDade (adapted)
Spirit of Life, come unto us,
Sing in our hearts all the stirrings of compassion.
Blow in the wind, rise in the sea;
Move in our hands, giving life the shape of justice.
Roots hold us close; wings set us free;
Spirit of Life, come to us, come to me.
If we knew we were on the right road, having to leave it would mean endless despair. but we are on a road that only leads to a second one and then to a third one and so forth. And the real highway will not be sighted for a long, long time, perhaps never. So we drift in doubt. But also in an unbelievable beautiful diversity. Thus the accomplishment of hopes remains an always unexpected miracle. But in compensation, the miracle remains forever possible.
The society which scorns excellence in plumbing because plumbing is a humble activity, and tolerates shoddiness in philosophy because philosophy is an exalted activity, will have neither good plumbing nor good philosophy. Neither its pipes nor its theories will hold water.
....And the Prophet was asked by his followers to speak of Work.
You Work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.
For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's procession,
that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite.
When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.
Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?
Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth's furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,
And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon you brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.
You have been told also life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.
And I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge,
All urge is blind save when there is knowledge,
And all knowledge is vain save when there is work,
And all work is empty save when there is love;
And when you work with love you bind yourself, and to one another, and to God.
And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection,
even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved
were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with
a breath of your own spirit.
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference,you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the
grapes, your grudge distills a poison in the wine.
And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.
We all have work whether we are paid for it or not.
Everyone likes to work, except those who work.
Work is the capital that never dies.
Work is the harmony and the balance of life.
Work is not only what one knows but what one is.
The people who work much do not have time to earn money.
Do not teach anybody what you have learned because you will become without work .
If you work to live ... why do you kill yourself working?
Work to live, but do not live only to work.
To work as slaves is to end up by dying forgotten.
To work is always nice ... when others do it.
Now is the accepted time, not tomorrow, not some more convenient season.
It is today that our best work can be done and not some future day or future year.
It is today that we fit ourselves for the greater usefulness of tomorrow.
Today is the seed time, now are the hours of work, and tomorrow comes the harvest and the playtime.
Final Thoughts:
If you observe a really happy man you will find him building a boat, writing a symphony, educating his son, growing double dahlias in his garden, or looking for dinosaur eggs in the Gobi desert. He will not be searching for happiness as if it were a collar button that has rolled under the radiator. He will not be striving for it as a goal in itself. He will have become aware that he is happy in the course of living life twenty-four crowded hours of the day. ~W. Beran Wolfe
Go now in Peace
Go now in Peace, Go now in Peace,
May the Love of God surround you
Everywhere, everywhere, You may go
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