Sunday Evening Communion with the Angel of Creative Work

Angel of Work who sings in the humming of the bee, pausing not in its making of golden honey; in the flute of the shepherd, who sleeps not lest his flock go astray; in the song of the maiden as she lays her hand to the spindle. If you think that these are not as fair in the eyes of the Lord as the loftiest of prayers echoed from the highest mountain, and then you do indeed err for the honest work of humble hands is a daily prayer of thanksgiving, and the music of the plough is a joyful song unto the Lord. He who eats the bread of idleness must die of hunger, for a field of stones can yield only stones. For him is the day without meaning, and the night a bitter journey of evil dreams. But he who walks with the Angel of Work has within him a field always fertile, where corn and grapes and all manner of sweet-scented herbs and flowers grow in abundance. As ye sow, so shall ye reap. The Son of Man who has found his task shall not ask any other blessing.

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