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By Kahlil Gibran
AND an old priest said... Speak to us of
Religion
And he said:
Have I spoken this day of aught else..?
Is not religion all deeds and all reflection...
and that which is neither deed nor
reflection...
but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul...
even while the hands
hew the stone or tend the loom..?
Who can separate his faith from his actions...
or his belief from his
occupations..?
Who can spread his hours before him... saying...
"This for God and this for myself... this for my soul...
and this other for my
body..?"
All your hours are wings that beat through space from self to self.
He who wears his morality but as his
best garment were better naked.
The wind and the sun will tear no holes
in his skin.
And he who defines his conduct by ethics
imprisons his song-bird in a cage.
The freest song comes not through bars
and wires.
And he to whom worshiping is a window...
to open but also to shut...
has not yet
visited the house of his soul whose
windows are from dawn to dawn.
Your daily life is your temple and your religion.
Whenever you enter into it take with you your all. Take the plough and the forge and the
mallet and the lute...
the things you have fashioned in necessity or for delight. For in revery you cannot rise above your
achievements
nor fall lower than your failures. And take with you all men:
For in adoration you cannot fly higher
than their hopes
nor humble yourself lower than their despair. And if you would know God be not
therefore a solver of riddles. Rather look about you and you shall see
Him
playing with your children. And look into
space;
you shall see Him walking in the cloud...
outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain. You shall see Him smiling in
flowers...
then rising and waving His hands in trees.
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