Blast from the past. Wasn't found in that church. It's 'Desiderata' allegedly written by poet Max Ehrmann in the 1920's. They made a song out of it that was played a lot on the radio, and it was overdone and we hated it. There was a parody of it 'Deterioata' that's way more better. Kinda cool you brought it up, cause I hadn't thought of that in about 40 years.
Believe it or not I ran across it in an old True West Magazine. It didn't have the title so I guessed at the spelling and spelling is not one of my better things. I had seen it back in the 50s and had gone to the church to see it. much to my dismay, it wasn't there. I think it's one of the better sets of instruction to live by. Fits me anyway.
Very nice verse and I remember it well from posters in 1970.
Some years later there came a modern version refered to as Deteriorata - by Nat. Lampoon.
I think the first is more valid but the second bears viewing.
Grey
Go placidly amidst the noise and waste, and remember what comfort there may be in owning a piece thereof. Avoid quiet and passive persons, unless you are in need of sleep. Rotate your tires. Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself; and heed well their advice, even though they be turkeys. Know what to kiss - and when. Consider that two wrongs never make a right, but that three do. Wherever possible, put people on hold. Be comforted, that in the face of all irridity and disillusionment, and despite the changing fortunes of time, there is always a big future in computer maintenance.
Remember the Pueblo. Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle, and mutilate. Know yourself. If you need help, call the FBI. Exercise caution in your daily affairs, especially with those persons closest to you... That lemon on your left, for instance. Be assured that a walk through the seas of most souls would scarcely get your feet wet. Fall not in love, therefore, it will stick to your face. Gracefully surrender the things of youth: the birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan - and let not the sands of time get in your lunch. Hire people with hooks. For a good time, call 800-606-4311, ask for Ken. Take heart in the deepening gloom that your dog is finally getting enough cheese. And reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot, it could only be worse in Milwaukee.
Therefore, make peace with your god, whatever you perceive him to be: hairy thunderer or cosmic muffin. With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal, the world continues to deteriorate. GIVE UP!