GÙNGJOK

THURSDAY 2 SEPTEMBER
The one constant thing in my every day here at St. Stephen’s, apart from the rice three times a day and cold showers and no coffee....... (did I mention the coffee?) is that there is always gùngjok, once, twice or sometimes three times a day. Each session lasts for up to 1½ hours and it leaves you hot, tired and thirsty. As the clock ticks round to the appointed hour everyone gathers in the common room to await being shouted instructions by the ‘gùngjok master’ who has carefully worked out the allocation of duties for that session.

Now I should give you three alternative definitions and you can choose the right one, but to spare you the task, gùngjok is ‘work. It seems to be the least anticipated part of the day for the Brothers, and the helpers, but it is a discipline that is part of community life.

Today I am assigned a task outside which makes a change. Usually I am assigned the third floor – where I sleep, sweeping, mopping, cleaning windows, cleaning bathrooms, but I must have impressed the ‘gùngjok master’ so was promoted to outside. I was to sweep the pathways in a secluded garden near the house. So with brush and dust pan with an extended handle to save bending down – a clever device – I walked eagerly to my task.

As I turned the corner I was met by a carpet of orange, round seed pods which had fallen from the only tree in the garden. It was particularly big tree so had deposited many, many pods. Still, it was better than cleaning toilets! It seemed like there were a million of these pods on the ground but one at a time I slowly but surely made progress.

About half way through my task I looked with pride at the area I had already swept only to see an orange pod sat there in the middle of the path. I was sure I had swept them all but went back and captured this one. As I went back to my task I kept hearing things dropping and began to realise that the pods were still falling from the tree. I looked up into the tree to see what looked like a billion more still to fall! I returned to my task somewhat despondently.

The time ticked on and as the gùngjok for the morning came to an end I picked up my brush and extended handle dust pan to go to lunch. I looked at what I had done and saw several orange pods staring at me, still lying on the path. I couldn’t leave them there so I went back and swept them all up, again!

I feel that is something like St. Stephen’s. As fast as they rescue one drug addict off the streets, another one falls to the ground. I guess it can feel relentless and at times hopeless although they stick to the task with joy and commitment underpinned by a set of values that can be seen all the way through the work that is done.

But what if no one bothered to sweep up the orange pods that fall every day? What if no one picked up the one that had fallen? Eventually the number of orange pods would become too many to handle, soon the path would be blocked and the task too big to know where to start, overwhelming even the most committed orange seed pod gatherer. Even picking up one orange seed pod makes a difference.