The Home Council

Nothing Settled Unless Settled Right

However the battle is ended,
Though proudly the victor comes
With fluttering flags and prancing nags
And echoing roll of drums,
Still truth proclaims this motto,
In letters of living light,—
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.

Though the heel of the strong oppressor
May grind the weak to dust,
And the voice of fame with one acclaim
May call him great and just,
Let those who applaud take warning,
And keep this motto in sight,—
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.

Let those who have failed take courage;
Tho’ the enemy seems to have won,
Tho’ his ranks are strong, if he be in the wrong
The battle is not yet done;
For, as sure as the morning follows
The darkest hour of the night,
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.

O man bowed down with labor!
A woman, young, yet old!
O heart oppressed in the toiler’s breast
And crushed by the power of gold!
Keep on with your weary battle
Against triumphant might;
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.

—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

Alternate Reading: Ephesians 4:25 to 5: 2.

Somebody’s Mother

The woman was old and ragged and gray,
And bent with the chill of the winter’s day;
The street was wet with the winter’s snow,
And the woman’s feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared-for amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by,
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of school let out,
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow, piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way,
Nor offered a helping hand to her,
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir,
Lest the carriage wheels or horses’ feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest laddie of all the group.
He paused beside her and whispered low:
“I’ll help you across if you wish to go.”
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and without hurt or harm
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
“She’s somebody’s mother, boys, you know,
For all she’s old and poor and slow;
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
If ever she’s old and poor and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away.”
And “somebody’s mother” bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was: “God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody’s son and pride and joy.”

—Mary D. Brine

Making The Most Of One’s Life

Let every man be occupied, and occupied in the highest employment of which his nature is capable, and die with the consciousness that he has done his best.

—Sidney Smith.

Alternate Reading: John 4: 7-21.

What Time Is It?

What time is it?
Time to do well;
Time to live better;
Give up the grudge;
Answer that letter;
Speak that kind word, to sweeten a sorrow;
Do that good deed you would leave till to-morrow.

Time to try hard
In that new situation
Time to build up
A solid foundation.
Giving up needlessly changing and drifting,
Leaving the quicksands that ever are shifting.

What time is it?
Time to be earnest,
Laying up treasure;
Time to be thoughtful,
Choosing true pleasure;
Loving stern justice—of truth being fond;
Making your word just as good as your bond.

Time to be happy,
Doing your beet;
Time to be truthful,
Leaving the rest;
Knowing in whatever country or clime,
Ne’er can we call back one minute of time.

—Anon.

The History of to-morrow is made in the homes of to-day.

Alternate Reading: John 13: 21-30.

Parable Of The Rich Man’s Home

“There was once a rich man, who dressed in purple robes and fine linen, and feasted every day in great splendor. Near his gateway there had been laid a beggar named Lazarus, who was covered with sores, and who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the very dogs came and licked his sores. After a time the beggar died, and was taken by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In the Place of Death he looked up in his torment, and saw Abraham at a distance and Lazarus at his side. So he called out, ‘Pity me, Father Abraham, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering agony in this flame.’

“‘Child,’ answered Abraham, ‘remember that you in your limetime received what you thought desirable, just as Lazarus received what was not desirable; but now he has his consolation here, while you are suffering agony. And not only that, but between you and us there lies a great chasm, so that those who wish to pass from here to you cannot, nor can they cross from there to us.’

“‘Then, Father,’ he said, ‘I beg you to send Lazarus to my father’s house—for I have five brothers—to warn them, so that they may not come to this place of torture also.’

“‘They have the writings of Moses and the Prophets,’ replied Abraham; ‘let them listen to them.’

“‘But, Father Abraham,’ he urged, ‘if some one from the dead were to go to them, they would repent.’

“‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets,’ answered Abraham, ‘they will not be persuaded even if some one were to rise from the dead.'”

—Luke.

A man who is heartless or cruel in his home, however rich or learned he may be, is a criminal at heart.

A happy marriage is a new beginning of life, a new starting-point for happiness and usefulness.

—Dean Stanley.

Jesus Heals Ten Lepers

On the way to Jerusalem, Jesus passed between Samaria and Galilee.

As he was entering a village, ten lepers met him. Standing still, some distance off, they called out loudly:

“Jesus! Sir! pity us!”

When Jesus saw them, he said:

“Go and show yourselves to the Priests.”

And, as they were on their way, they were made clean. One of them, finding he was cured, came back, praising God loudly, and threw himself on his face at Jesus’ feet, thanking him for what be had done; and this man was a Samaritan.

“Were not all the ten made clean? ” exclaimed Jesus. “But the nine—where are they? Were there none to come back and praise God except this foreigner? Get up,” he said to him, “and go on your way. Your faith has delivered you.”

—Luke.

A Prayer For An Enlarged Heart

O Thou, whose love is’not confined to temples made with hands, enlarge my heart to worship Thee. Help me to see Thee where men see only the world, to hear Thee where men hear only the voices of the crowd. Enlarge the range of my experience. Teach me to realize the awful solemnity of the things that I call common. Impress me with the truth that the meanest household duty is a service to Thee, that the smallest act of kindness is a praise of Thee, that the tiniest cup of water, though it were given only in a disciple’s name, is a worship and a love of Thee. Help me to feel Thy presence everywhere, that even in the prosaic haunts of men and in the commonplace battles of life I may be able to lift up mine eyes and say, “This is none other than the home of God, this is the gate of heaven.”

—George Matheson.

The Dreamer And The Toiler

I am tired of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men;
Heart-weary of building and spoiling,
And spoiling and building again.
And I long for the dear old river,
Where I dreamed my youth away;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.

I am sick of the showy seeming,
Of a life that is half a lie;
Of the faces lined with scheming
In the throng that hurries by.
From the sleepless thoughts’ endeavor,
I would go where the children play;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And the toiler dies in a day.

I can feel no pride, but pity
For the burdens the rich endure;
There is nothing sweet in the city
But the patient lives of the poor.
Oh, the little hands too skillful,
And the child-mind choked with weeds!
The daughter’s heart grown willful,
And the father’s heart that bleeds!

No, No I from the street’s rude bustle,
From trophies of mart and stage,
I would fly to the woods’ low rustle
And the meadows’ kindly page.
Let me dream as of old by the river,
And be loved for the dream alway;
For a dreamer lives forever.
And a toiler dies in a day.

—John B. O’Reilly.

One enemy is too many; a thousand friends are not too many.

—The Talmud.

Alternate Reading: John 13:1-20.

Jesus With The Outcasts

The tax-gatherers and the outcasts were all drawing near to Jesus to listen to him; but the Pharisees and the Teachers of the Law found fault.

“This man always welcomes outcasts, and takes meals with them,” they complained. So Jesus told them this parable—

“What man among you who has a hundred sheep, and has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine out in the open country, and go after the lost sheep till he finds it? And, when he has found it, he puts it on his shoulders rejoicing; and, on reaching home, he calls his friends and his neighbors together, and says, ‘ Come and rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost.’ So I tell you, there will be more rejoicing in Heaven over one outcast that repents, than over ninety-nine religious men, who have no need to repent.”

—Luke.

A Commonwealth Of Homes

When the Kingdom of God is completely established on this earth, it will be a world-wide commonwealth of homes. Clubs, hotels, apartments and the like are ugly things that must give place for the coming kingdom of homes.

The Necessity Of Home Influences

Ours is a sad lot if we have allowed the home to become incidental in our life, if there we do not find the unfailing shelter, the great stronghold, the very source and impulse of all our living. The saddest thing in this world is a broken, ruined home where love has been turned into hatred, patience into petulance, self-sacrifice into selfishness.

—C. S. Macfarland.

The greatest heritage any child can have is the influence and memory of a good home.

Enslavers Of Souls

“Woe unto you Scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites! for you build the sepulchres of the prophets, and garnish the tombs of the righteous, and say, if we had been in the days of our fathers, we should not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets. Wherefore ye witness to yourselves that ye are sons of them that slew the prophets.”

—Jesus.

Tyranny In The Name Of Religion

Let men or sects succeed in enforcing their creed by penalties of law, or penalties of opinion; let them succeed in fixing a brand on virtuous men whose only crime is free investigation,—and religion becomes the most blighting tyranny which can establish itself over the mind. You have all heard of the outward evils which religion, when thus turned into tyranny, has inflicted; how it has dug dreary dungeons, kindled fires for the martyr, and invented instruments of exquisite torture. But to me all this is less fearful than its influence over the mind. When I see the superstitions which it has fastened on the conscience, the spiritual terrors with which it has haunted and subdued the ignorant and susceptible, the dark appalling views of God which it has spread far and wide, the dread of inquiry which it has struck into superior understandings, and the servility of spirit which it has made to pass for piety,—when I see all this, the fire, the scaffold, and the outward inquisition, terrible as they are, seem to be inferior evils.

I look with a solemn joy on the heroic spirits who have met, freely and fearlessly, pain and death in the cause of truth and human rights. But there are other victims of intolerance on whom I look with unmixed sorrow. They are those who, spell-bound by early prejudices or intimidations from the pulpit and press, dare not think; who anxiously stifle every doubt or misgiving in regard to their opinions, as if to doubt were a crime; who shrink from the seekers after truth as from infection; who deny all virtue which does not wear the livery of their own sect; who, surrendering to others their best powers, receive unresistingly a teaching which was against reason and conscience; and who think it a merit to impose on such as live within their influence, the grievous bondage which they bear themselves. How much to be deplored is it, that religion, the very principle which is designed to raise men above the judgment and power of man, should become the chief instrument of usurpation over the soul!

—William E. Channing.

Alternate Reading: John 11: 47-57.

Seeing Life Whole

The knowledge of God without that of our misery produces pride. The knowledge of our misery without that of God gives despair. The knowledge of Jesus Christ is intermediate, because therein we find God and our misery.

—Blaise Pascal.

Trust In Yourself

Trust in thine own untried capacity
As thou wouldst trust in God Himself.
Thy soul Is but an emanation from the whole.

Thou dost not dream what forces lie in thee,
Vast and unfathomed as the grandest sea.
Thy silent mind o’er diamond caves may roll;
Go seek them, but let Pilot Will control
Those passions Which thy favoring winds can be.

No man shall place a limit to thy strength;
Such triumphs as no mortal ever gained
May yet be thine if thou wilt but believe
In thy Creator and in thyself. At length
Some feet will tread all heights now unattained—
Why not thine own? Press on! Achieve! Achieve!

—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

A Beaten Path To The Door Of Genius

If a man can write a better book, preach a better sermon or make a better mousetrap than his neighbor, though he build his house in the woods, the world will make a beaten path to his door.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Alternate Reading: Romans 5:1-11.

The Larger Prayer

At first I prayed for Light;
Could I but see the way,
How gladly, swiftly would I walk
To everlasting day!

And next I prayed for Strength:
That I might tread the road
With firm, unfaltering feet, and win
The heaven’s serene abode.

And then I asked for Faith:
Could I but trust my God,
I’d live enfolded in His peace,
Though foes were all abroad.

But now I pray for Love:
Deep love to God and man,
A living love that will not fail,
However dark His plan.

And Light and Strength and Faith
Are opening everywhere,
God waited for me till
I prayed the larger prayer.

—Ednah D. Cheney.

The Radiation Of Character

We understood
Her by her sight; her pure and eloquent blood
Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought
That one might almost say her body thought.

—John Donne.

Thought Rules

Great men are they who see that spiritual is stronger than any material force; that thoughts rule the world.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Alternate Reading: Luke 19:16-21.