Labor Day: Our Scrap of Time

Our Scrap of Time
Service celebrated at the First Unitarian Church of Hobart, Indiana, on 04 September 2011
Rev. Chip Roush

OPENING WORDS
Our opening words this morning are from Marge Piercy’s poem, “To Be Of Use”
“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.”

If we are fortunate enough to do work that we find meaningful, let us give thanks. May we all seek out actions and activities which give meaning to our lives—especially those in this coming hour.
So may we be.

 

FIRST READING
Anna Kamienska was born in Poland, in 1920. She wrote poetry, children’s books, and several commentaries on the bible; Anna died in Warsaw in 1986.
This was translated by Ms. Grazyna Drabik

“Funny”

What’s it like to be a human
the bird asked.

I myself don’t know
it’s being held prisoner by your skin
while reaching infinity
being a captive of your scrap of time
while touching eternity
being hopelessly uncertain
and helplessly hopeful
being a needle of frost
and a handful of heat
breathing in the air
and choking wordlessly
it’s being on fire
with a nest made of ashes
eating bread
while filling up on hunger
it’s dying without love
it’s loving through death

That’s funny said the bird
and flew effortlessly up into the air

 

PRAYER
Whether we are hopelessly uncertain this morning, or absurdly hopeful, we share the experience of being embodied and alive. Let us pause a moment and notice that simple, miraculous, fact. Shift in your seat, if it helps, to get comfortable; close your eyes, if you want, and notice that you are alive! Your lungs are moving, your heart is beating, and your senses are gathering data in a ceaseless conversation with the Life all around us…

Let us take a few deep breaths together, and allow our attention to settle down into our miraculous bodies…
{breaths}

This morning, we call upon Ponus, the Greek god of hard work and toil; and Idiyanale, Tagalog goddess of labor and good deeds. We turn our awareness to Jehovah, father God of three monotheistic religions; and to Green Tara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion; we open to our experience of life’s ultimate realities;

and we name our gratitude to be alive;
we are grateful to be as healthy as we are, today;
we are glad to be here, in this gathered community, together;

we lift up the joys and sorrows just mentioned; we pledge to celebrate with those who would appreciate it, and to support those who need it; we also lift up the many sorrows and joys which remain in the silent sanctuaries of our hearts;

we are mindful of the people of Libya; we desire peace and justice in that nation, as we desire peace and justice in every nation;

we desire that the men and women in our armed forces come home safely and soon; we desire sufficient support for those people and their families;

we are aware of the many, many people who have no job, or who are under-employed;  we desire that all who can work find appropriate and meaningful labor;

we pledge to affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every person; we note that the opportunity to perform good work helps to inform our human dignity;

We desire enough food, and shelter, and peace of mind for all beings this day;
we pledge ourselves in pursuit of this goal.
Praise for living.
So may we be.

 

SECOND READING
Philip Levine was born in Detroit, in 1928, to Jewish immigrant parents. He won the Pulitzer Prize in 1995, and was just named the Poet Laureate of the United States, last month.

Half an hour to dress, wide rubber hip boots,
gauntlets to the elbow, a plastic helmet
like a knight’s but with a little glass window
that kept steaming over, and a respirator
to save my smoke-stained lungs. I would descend
step by slow step into the dim world
of the pickling tank and there prepare
the new solutions from the great carboys
of acids lowered to me on ropes — all from a recipe
I shared with nobody and learned from Frank O’Mera
before he went off to the bars on Vernor Highway
to drink himself to death. A gallon of hydrochloric
steaming from the wide glass mouth, a dash
of pale nitric to bubble up, sulphuric to calm,
metals for sweeteners, cleansers for salts,
until I knew the burning stew was done.
Then to climb back, step by stately step, the adventurer
returned to the ordinary blinking lights
of the swingshift at Feinberg and Breslin’s
First-Rate Plumbing and Plating with a message
from the kingdom of fire. Oddly enough
no one welcomed me back, and I’d stand
fully armored as the downpour of cold water
rained down on me and the smoking traces puddled
at my feet like so much milk and melting snow.
Then to disrobe down to my work pants and shirt,
my black street shoes and white cotton socks,
to reassume my nickname, strap on my Bulova [watch],
screw back my wedding ring, and with tap water
gargle away the bitterness as best I could.
For fifteen minutes or more I’d sit quietly
off to the side of the world as the women
polished the tubes and fixtures to a burnished purity
hung like Christmas ornaments on the racks
pulled steadily toward the tanks I’d cooked.
Ahead lay the second cigarette, held in a shaking hand,
as I took into myself the sickening heat …
a lunch of two… salami sandwiches and Swiss cheese
on heavy peasant bread baked by my Aunt Tsipie,
and a third cigarette to kill the taste of the others.
Then to arise and dress again in the costume
of my trade for the second time that night, stiffened
by the knowledge that to descend and rise up
from the other world merely once in eight hours is half
what it takes to be known among women and men.

MUSICAL TEXT
{Joe Jencks’ Rise As One, as performed by Jeremy Jacobsen}

 

SERMON
13.7 billion years ago, the Big Bang created our universe. Michael Dowd and Connie Barlow call it “the Great Radiance,” and they note how the universe has been getting more-and-more complex, and more deeply and fully interconnected, ever since.

Energy coalesced into matter, which twisted and tangled into proteins, which woke into Life, which evolved into intelligent life, and self-aware life…The universe is continuing to evolve, in and among us, so that nowadays, we are right at the cusp of evolving a critical mass of *wise* life. We are the thumbs and the conscience of the universe. In us, the universe can contemplate itself.

It’s only in the last century or less—-really, within the lifetime of some of us in this room—-that we and our universe began noticing the profound impact we have on our shared biosphere. More and more of us, a growing, larger and larger segment of our universe, are awakening to our shared responsibility to *consciously* evolve toward a better way of living and cooperating.

AND each and every one of us, no matter how awakened and evolved we may be, are still living creatures who have to kill and eat other living organisms to survive ourselves. Some of us are vegetarians, or vegans; some are locavores; and still all of us consume life to continue living.

Furthermore, virtually all Life is constantly searching for an advantage, to keep itself and possibly its close relatives, alive and thriving. Essentially all of us will lie, cheat and steal  if our survival depends on it.

Even two-inch long, crayfish-like stomatopods lie to each other. Also known as the mantis shrimp, these little creatures will occasionally get into fights, which usually involve threat displays with the shrimp “holding its appendages out to the side and lifting its head aggressively,” according to researchers.

I am not certain how you can “lift your head aggressively,” but that is what they do. And these shrimp lift their heads *more* aggressively when they are at their weakest. Shortly after they have molted, when their new skeleton is still hardening, they put on their most fearsome threat displays—they lift their heads most aggressively. They are bluffing—-lying to the other shrimp—-but their lies help them survive. Weaker forms of life sometimes need to use deception in order to live.

It is not always weaker beings, though. Telling a lie can be a sign of intelligence.

Sometimes, when a clan of great apes is sitting around eating, one of them will suddenly jump up and make the sounds for “intruders! run away!” The rest of the group scampers off, and the one who started the stampede will go back to eating, now with much more food available.

Some scientists believe that our human brains evolved to the relatively-large size they are *because* of the lies our ancestors told each other. Contemporary researchers have shown that telling untruths in childhood demonstrates cognitive development—and can predict success in later life.

I am not saying that lying is a good thing. Kids, do not lie to your parents! I am just noting that virtually all living beings, from stomatopods through humans, tell lies, cut corners, and do whatever they feel necessary in order to get ahead.

So of course the same thing is true of those non-living entities that we humans create to serve our interests. Companies are made of humans, so it is not surprising that they tell lies and cut corners and do other deceptive things as they try to thrive in the world.

Now: I need to stop and stress something here. Just as human beings are not evil, although sometimes their actions are, corporations are not evil—although sometimes their actions are. Corporations are an essential part of our world; they are a part of social evolution, allowing our civilizations to move forward.

A significant feature of many companies is that they limit the liability of their owners. If something goes wrong, the people who start or own a company will not lose *everything* they own; they will only lose that part of their wealth which they dedicated to the corporation.

The stock market allows many, many people to share ownership in a company—-and all of them have limited liability. This makes it more likely that people will be willing to invest their money in corporate ventures.

One social benefit of companies is that they create stability through time, and allow the accumulation of assets—-including and especially technological and intellectual assets. Before the invention of the corporation, peoples’ ideas often died with them. It took hundreds and even thousands of years for us to re-discover how to do some of the things that the Egyptians were doing, four millennia ago.

The modern creation of the corporation allowed companies to live on after their owners and inventors had died—and keep ideas alive, too.

Because of this stability, and because of the limited liability, corporations encourage people to invest in creative and otherwise too-risky ventures. Companies help to fuel progress.

At least some people think that without the invention of the modern corporation, then the Enlightenment would not have happened. If there had not been companies around to retain, protect and transmit knowledge and technology, some people believe that our Enlightenment ideals—-including scientific progress–would have been hampered to the point of not occurring.

Whether or not you are willing to go that far, I invite you to at least entertain the idea that corporations foster innovation and therefore help our culture to evolve.

So: there are benefits to corporations—-and, because they are products of human beings, they are liable to seek advantages: over their rivals, and over the governmental agencies which we humans create for oversight…and, sometimes, over their own employees.

All too often, companies try to compete by mistreating, and even abusing, the people who work for them.

In our second reading, a man climbed into a deadly environment twice a day, every day. Requiring so much safety gear, that it took 30 minutes to put it all on, he risked his life to earn a living and to make the products that kept our society moving.

He was lucky, though—-the man in the poem only *risked* his life. We all know stories of people who died because the companies for which they worked did not care for them properly.

The owners of the Triangle Shirtwaist factory believed that their workers might steal from them, so they locked the doors on the ninth-floor factory. When the building caught fire, the foreman who had the key ran away to save his own life. The owners escaped to the roof, from which they were rescued. Some of their employees escaped, but 146 workers died.

As workers in various industries decided that they’d had enough of such treatment, they joined together and formed unions. Together, the workers would have enough power to force the corporations to treat them better.

Again, just like people will do, some companies responded in life-affirming ways, and some responded by seeking unfair advantage. Many corporations sought partnerships with government, so that legislators would pass laws for business and against unions; they convinced law enforcers to help break up strikes—often using violence.

In 1916, in the little town of Everett, Washington, there was an economic depression. Desperate to survive, companies began to cut corners, and mistreat their employees. The workers went on strike. After about five months, the situation was becoming grim. The strikers called for help from other workers in nearby towns. When these other workers came to Everett, the companies hired vigilantes to beat them with ax handles until they all went home.

Well, most did go home, but then they regrouped, and they found even more supporters up the coast, in Seattle. 300 men boarded two ships in Seattle and steamed down to Everett.

Somehow, the companies heard about it. They spoke with the Sheriff, who visited all the bars in town and deputized anybody sober enough to stand. The Sheriff and 200 armed “deputies” surrounded the dock where the ships would try to tie up. As the first boat approached, the Sheriff called, “who’s the leader here?” The men responded, “we are all leaders.”

Nobody knows for certain who started shooting. Only a few of the men from Seattle had guns, but they *might* have started it. It seems more likely that one of the “deputies” did.

We don’t really know how many died, either, because some of the men sank to the bottom of the bay, having been shot like fish in a barrel.

We do know that several on both sides were killed, and dozens more were injured. At least some of the “citizen deputies” were shot by other deputies, caught in the crossfire. But when the workers crawled back on their boats, and returned to Seattle, *they* were arrested and charged with murder. 75 of them were jailed. After a two-month trial, the leaders were acquitted, all charges were dropped, and the men were released.

With corporations and government so often working together, laborers need to be allowed to organize and defend themselves, with the only power they have: the power to say “no.”

However, because unions are also entities created by humans, they sometimes cut corners and tell lies and mis-use their powers, too. Just as we know stories of corporate abuses, most of us know about union abuses—about joining with organized crime; or making excessive demands that hamper or bankrupt their employers; of high dues required of members.

Partly because of those abuses, and partly because our U.S. economy got really good for a while, so that workers no longer felt the need to organize, unions have lost many of their members and most of their political clout. Over a third of U.S. workers were in a union in 1945. In 1998, fewer than 14% were.

Unfortunately, the decline of our unions has had dire consequences for all of us. A recent study has found a strong link between the decrease of union power and the dangerous expansion of the income gap.

The unions may be getting weaker, but they still do wield some power.

Right now, as we speak, the Chocolate Workers Union, Local 464, is on strike in Pennsylvania. The union has joined a strike by a number of international students, each of whom paid at least $3000 to come to our country for a Hershey-sponsored “cultural exchange.” Instead of a cultural exchange, these students have been forced to work overnight shifts performing difficult manual labor. They are paid far less than other workers. As little as they earn, the Hershey company deducts money for housing—-as many as twelve students are forced to live in each apartment—-and money for transportation to and from the plant. The students were told if they didn’t like it, they could return to their own countries. Instead of leaving, they organized.

It is stories like that that make me worry, as many states are trying to further weaken, or even outlaw entirely, our remaining unions.

Over the last year, we have seen a number of attacks on our human right to organize.

In Wisconsin, the governor and legislature outlawed collective bargaining rights for public employees.

Now, some of you may agree with Governor Walker, that public unions should not strike. My mother, a nurse herself, feels that nurses should not be *allowed* to stop working. I understand that concern, and I still wonder—-if we make it illegal for them to bargain collectively, how will they defend themselves? If our government, like us humans in general, is prone to seek any advantage it can, how will public workers defend themselves without the ability to organize and strike?

Look, when you have the newly-freed people of Egypt calling Madison pizzerias and buying pizzas for the protesting American workers occupying the Wisconsin statehouse, then you know things are getting serious. The Egyptians are taking pity on us!

Even more concerning, to me, are the events in Michigan, where Governor Snyder now has the power to appoint “Emergency Financial Managers” to take over schoolboards and towns which are in fiscal crises. By the way, I lived in Michigan…*all* the towns are in crisis! Democratically-elected leaders can be done away with, and democratically-passed laws or rules can be stricken by these Emergency Managers, without recourse from the people affected.

This is not specifically about unions, nor even about labor, but it is about our right to organize. What is a school district, or a town or city, if not an organized group of people, working together?

Well, as things stand in Michigan, they are groups of people who no longer have control over their own leaders, their laws, or their labor.

For fourteen billion years, our universe has been evolving. For virtually all of that time, it has been anything-goes: seek whatever advantage you can and use it to survive. That is no longer a sustainable approach. I don’t think we can tame the hunger of Life to live; we cannot—-and probably should not—-quench the ferocity of the survival instinct. We *can* agree to cooperate and build in some checks and balances.

Evolution is a dance, an ongoing balancing act between yang and yin, conservative and liberal, the individual and the group. If we get too far out of balance—-in any direction—-the whole system is endangered.

If we are a captive of our scrap of time, we can still influence eternity by remembering that we are the conscience of the universe, and acting with that understanding.

We can—-and must-—seek truth, create beauty and embody goodness. We can *both* work individually, to advance and thrive, and work collectively, to create strength and maintain balance.

It may only be a small scrap of time that we are given, but if we organize, we can do remarkable things, together.
So may we be.

 

(photograph of the Kudirat Abiola Memorial by Lolade Adewuyi)