peace | Michael Valliant

The Spirit of Love

Background: I preached last weekend at Christ Church Easton, on Father’s Day Weekend, where the lectionary reading was Matthew 10:24-39. In this reading Jesus tells the disciples that he has come not to bring peace, but a sword, to set a man against his father and a daughter against her mother. Possibly an unfortunate reading for Father’s Day. Or maybe not.

“The Spirit of Love”

And then Jesus says, “Happy Father’s Day, everyone!” Amen. The End.

You certainly have to think that the lectionary editors weren’t consulting the secular calendar to put a reading like this on Father’s Day or Mother’s Day. Or maybe they were.

Not all of our earthly parents model God’s love for us. There is a difference between God’s love and priorities and our earthly love and priorities.

I’ve been reading a daybook/devotional every morning by Henri Nouwen titled “Bread for the Journey.” Last week, I came across this entry:

“The Spirit reveals to us not only that God is “Abba, Father” but also that we belong to God as beloved children. The Spirit thus restores in us the relationship from which all other relationships derive their meaning.

“Abba is a very intimate word. The best translation for it is “Daddy.” The word Abba expresses trust, safety, confidence, belonging, and most of all, intimacy. It does not have the connotation of authority, power, and control that the word Father often evokes. On the contrary, Abba implies embracing and nurturing love. This love includes and infinitely transcends all the love that comes to us from our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, spouses, friends, and lovers. It is the gift of the Spirit.”

The love that comes from God, which we have an opportunity to experience, transcends family love, the love of friends, and even love from our spouses. The human love we experience can be complicated, can be lacking, and can even fail us at times. But God’s love doesn’t fail us. It’s an embracing and nurturing love that we can always fall into.

Jesus was and is trying to point us toward and show us God’s love. But he also saw the response he got from those in power, those with status, those who wanted to control or withhold love and use it to their advantage. We all encounter people like that in our lives.

Jesus says, when we encounter those people, we have to make a choice: do we side with them, or do we side with God?

If we are raised in a family that is racist, or homophobic, or with parents that are abusive—siding with our family, continuing those feelings and actions, is being a part of hate, divisiveness, or violence.

When that’s what “peace” looks like, Jesus says:

“I have not come to bring peace, but a sword…
For I have come to set a man against his father,
and a daughter against her mother,”

When what we are handed down, our inheritance, is worldly things that don’t look like love, Jesus says, whoever loves father or mother or son and daughter more than me is not worthy of me.

Imagine being the first person in your family, after generations of racism to say, “No, this is not okay. We are all equal, regardless of skin color or culture. I’m not going to live the way you do.”

How do you think you will be received by your family?

Or to have a conversation that says, “I have this big love of God in my heart, but when it comes to loving someone, I think that love for me looks different than it does for you.”

A number of us were at a program at St. Marks a month or so ago called, “Healing Church Hurts,” and it was absolutely heartbreaking to hear the hate and abuse that people have suffered at the hands of the church, both from clergy and from community, from people who claim to follow Jesus, to love God and their neighbors.

Jesus showed by his life and his example, through the people he spent time with and who he cared for, that love comes first.

As Christians, I think we can all agree that at least part of the reason Jesus became human was because humanity was heading in a bad direction. Jesus showed us a different way to live and different priorities to live by if we want to experience the kingdom of heaven.

Let’s remember that the life Jesus lived, a life of love, a life of caring for the poor, the sick and the marginalized; a life telling the powers-that-be that they were living out of synch with God’s love and that they needed to turn around and get their acts together—this life got Jesus nailed to a cross.

People who are stuck in their ways and invested in their ways of life don’t want to be told they should change. Especially those with power, status, or money on the line.

So Jesus tells his disciples, when you follow me, there is going to be a cost. But when you give up your old life to follow me, you’ll gain a whole new life, one centered in God’s love and priorities.

We have choices to make. Are we willing to make God’s mission of love and justice our top priority, even when it might affect our relationships or our livelihood? Are we willing to use the lens of “What Would Jesus Do?” when we look at our friendships, how we spend our money, and how we treat people we don’t know?

Do our choices reflect our faith? Do our lives proclaim the love of God, both giving and receiving?

Moving in this direction sounds like a huge undertaking. And it is. But in my experience, it doesn’t happen overnight or all at once. It’s a process. It takes time. And we have help.

We have a couple small groups studying J.I. Packer’s book, “Keep in Step with the Spirit.” As Packer introduces what he is up to in the book, he writes that he is particularly interested in:

“The work of the Holy Spirit in the inspiration and interpretation of Scripture, in the regenerating, sanctifying, equipping and empowering of individual Christians, in the gifting and using of God’s people in various forms of service, and in the reviving or renewing of churches and communities.”

That’s the work Jesus was doing.

Sanctification is the process of becoming more Christ-like as we open ourselves to the Holy Spirit’s guidance. Through the Spirit, God meets us in our slow walk and helps transform us. Over the past 10 years, I hope I have been able to live more like Jesus, even though I fail and fall short. I hope I respond differently in situations where I am tempted to lose my temper, lash out in hate, or not treat someone with the dignity that each one of us should receive as children of God.

And if I am being transformed, it’s not through my own efforts—I don’t get a gold star for that—it happens through humility and being open to God’s guidance through the Spirit working in me.

Another way that the Spirit helps us is by giving us people in our lives who encourage and inspire us. Jesus rightly points out the people we need to challenge and not to follow. Thankfully, hopefully, we have family and friends who model the right kind of love for us.

The first of those people, for me, is my father. It’s Father’s Day weekend, so it feels like a good time to share some gratitude.

Henri Nouwen in our opening quote talked about calling God “Abba” as “expressing trust, safety, confidence, belonging, and most of all, intimacy… and implying embracing and nurturing love.”

This week, I remembered an experience I had playing Little League baseball. Our Oxford team was playing against Ruritan in Cordova and I was a runner on third base. The pitcher threw a wild pitch, and I saw my chance, ran for home, and slid safely across home plate.

As I stood up, I saw my coach clapping and I raised my hands to celebrate, only to find my left arm shooting out at an unnatural angle, badly broken. I remember everything going kind of blurry as shock set in.

Oxford Little League team photo. I am third from the left in the back row. Note the fiberglass cast on my left arm. That was after six weeks or so of the plaster cast, which had already come off. This photo was taken well after my season had ended.

One of the things that fathers tend to do these days and those days is to record their kids doing things like playing sports. And my father had researched all the handheld camcorders and had himself a state-of-the-art Betamax video camera.

I have not watched the tape of this happening, but in the live taping of me sliding (safely) into home and standing up with a badly broken arm, as my arm comes up and you hear a collective gasp from the crowd, you can clearly hear my dad say, “Oh…crap!”… though he didn’t say crap, the camera drop, and he rushes to get onto the field to help me, and then to ride in the ambulance with me to the hospital.

This is a pretty good example of my dad as a father figure. Unfortunately for him, I think I could have shown the prodigal son a thing or two. I repeatedly messed up, fell short, and got in trouble. And my dad met me in those situations with love and grace and forgiveness.

Part of the reason that it was easy for me to embrace and understand the idea of God as a loving father is because my dad showed me what that looked like as a loving father. He modeled that for me. And he still does today.

How about one more model. Before I was in elementary school, my father introduced me to a friend of his, Jack Anthony. Jack’s son David was a year older than me, and we spent a good bit of our earliest years together. And the four of us would go to Orioles games. And Jack always seemed like a good guy and loving father, despite wearing a Yankees hat to Orioles games.

Fast forward forty-some years, and I connected again with Jack here at Christ Church, with Jack as one of our Stephen Leaders, helping to lead our Stephen Ministry and giving us all an example of what Christian care-giving looks like. For me, as someone who has not been through Stephen Ministry training, this ministry of friendship, of coming alongside someone who is going through a difficult time, of listening, this ministry is one of the shining stars and models for our community.

Last night, we got to commission Karen Fisher as a new Stephen Minister, and my wife, Holly, who has been a Stephen Minister for a couple years now, as a Stephen Leader. This finishes out the latest class, most of whom were commissioned at the picnic a couple weeks ago, of 10 new Stephen Ministers and two new Stephen Leaders.

I am grateful for these examples of the Holy Spirit “regenerating, sanctifying, equipping and empowering individual Christians, and gifting and using of God’s people in various forms of service, and in the reviving or renewing of churches and communities.”

Every day we have choices to make. Let us choose to follow Jesus, to learn from the examples and encouragement of those living into God’s love and priorities and allow the Spirit to work through each of us.

A Personal Prayer

When I walked to the shoreline, there was a Kingfisher just down the bank.

Across the creek, a Great Blue Heron plodded.

This morning I got a note from a friend who has cancer and is struggling through treatment. He was flown to Hopkins and is in the ICU. He asked for prayer.

I prayed. I wrote and sent him a prayer. I am praying. I will be praying. I haven’t stopped. It never feels like enough.

What I want for him is a miracle. A return to health and home and family and worship and all the things he loves and that love him back.

How about a miracle, God? Have you seen the world lately? Have you seen how we behave? How we treat one another? Most of us don’t deserve miracles. But you still give them. I can’t always figure out why or where, but it’s not on me to do that. Miracles are you, God.

I can hear Bob Weir singing, “I need a miracle every day”–and I get that.

I feel it in my soul–the miracles of morning coffee and a hug in the kitchen, and making breakfast for my daughters, of a world where the seasons change and there are Kingfishers and Herons on the shoreline.

I think of the ICU. Where miracles are breath. And modern medicine. Doctors and nurses. Love of family. Technology. Communication. Patience. Time. Prayer. Hope.

I sit on the shoreline praying for my friend. I feel your presence all around me.

A jet flies over with its landing gear down; it’s a majestic sound and sight. It’s a miracle you’ve given us through the minds, reason, and intellect you created in us.

I pray now with tears in my eyes for multiple friends with cancer who love you and who share your love with others.

We all need miracles every day. Send some extras to those with cancer and to their families. Keep them connected to your love, your peace, your healing.

I lift them up to you, God.

Thanks for listening.

Love you.

Amen.

Living the Gospel: vulnerable, dependent, together

Background: Last weekend was a preaching weekend for me at Christ Church Easton. The Gospel reading for the lectionary was Luke 10:1-11, 16-20, where Jesus sends 70 followers out ahead of him to towns and place he will go, with specific instructions as to how they are to interact with people. Following is the transcript of my sermon.

“Living the Gospel: vulnerable, dependent, together”

In last week’s reading, we saw Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem and send people ahead to get things ready for him. The disciples were not well received when they got to a village of Samaritans. This made John and James furious and they wanted to send fire from heaven to consume the Samaritans. Not a very neighborly thing to do.

Jesus rebuked them; he told James and John, this is not how we do things and he gave a series of teachings about how the disciples needed to set their priorities if they were going to follow him.

Last week’s reading was a bit of precursor to this reading, as now Jesus gets 70 people together, he’s not just talking to the 12. And now he’s giving specific instructions to this larger group as he sends them out ahead of him to the towns and places he is going.

No more of this raining down fire from heaven, here’s what I want you all to do:

First of all, “the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” So we need laborers. What a great place to start. It’s out there, there is abundance—this work you are doing is needed. Given the reception in the last village, that might not be a foregone conclusion to some of Jesus’s disciples, but he sees abundance where others might see scarcity.

“Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road.”

Whenever I hear “sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves,” I am waiting for that qualifying line, “so be as wise as serpents, but as innocent as doves.” But that’s from Matthew’s Gospel, we don’t get that spelled out in Luke. The disciples just go out like lambs.

Jesus is sending these 70 followers out into a hostile world that may not receive them well, and instead of arming them for battle, he points out their vulnerability. Not only will we not call down fire from heaven, you all are going out like lambs. No purse, or bag, or sandals.

Sending them out as lambs, he is sending them intentionally vulnerable, vulnerable by design. Why would he do that?

If you Google vulnerability today, it’s a guarantee that you will find a slew of quotes from social worker and storyteller Brene Brown. And here is a quote of hers from a book study we did that speaks to what Jesus may have had in mind:

“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.” (Brene Brown, “Daring Greatly”)

Alright, Jesus. We’re getting vulnerable. Now what?

Go to their homes. Offer them peace. If they share in the peace you offer, it will rest on that person, if not it comes back to you. You are going to depend on the people in that house, eating and drinking whatever they give you.

Whenever you enter a town and they welcome you, eat what they give you, cure the sick and tell them the kingdom of God has come near to you.

If a town doesn’t welcome you, it’s the same message, the kingdom of God has come near.

One of the things that strikes me about this reading, Jesus isn’t teaching them theology, he isn’t giving them Scripture 101, he is instructing them in how to interact with people. How to go about their work, dependent on those in the towns and places the disciples are sent to.

In thinking about this, Franciscan Richard Rohr writes:

“All of Jesus’ rules of ministry here, his ‘tips for the road,’ are very interpersonal. They are based on putting people in touch with people. Person-to-person is the way the gospel was originally communicated. Person-in-love-with-person, person-respecting-person, person-forgiving-person, person-touching-person, person-crying-with-person, person-hugging-person: that’s where the Spirit is so beautifully present.” (Richard Rohr, “The Good News According to Luke”)

In fact, Rohr goes so far as to say, “The gospel happens between two or more people.”

Now, this is something to kick around a bit. Say I am sitting at home in the morning, having my coffee and prayer time, reading my Bible or doing a devotional, and I have a Holy Spirit moment. I feel touched by God; my heart is on fire; I see the interconnectedness of all people; I see how God’s love flows back and forth between us all; I am sure in my heart that I am a child of God.

Then I cut the grass. And I go to the grocery store. And I go about my business. And that realization I had in the morning has no apparent impact on my life. It doesn’t translate into how I love, how I treat other people, how I live.

Have I been true to the realization? If all I do is go to church services and read my Bible, and listen to sermons and music: has love, has grace transformed my life?

Here is one of Rohr’s most impactful thoughts for me. He says:

“The most a preacher does is entice you, attract you, and call you out of yourself to live a new kind of life. But the gospel cannot happen in your head alone. You never think yourself into a new way of living. You invariably “live” yourself into a new way of thinking.”

You don’t THINK yourself into a new way of LIVING. You LIVE yourself into a new way of THINKING.

I wonder if that’s what Jesus has in mind sending his disciples out: that you are going to learn and experience things on the road that I can’t simply teach you here, no matter how brilliant and deep the parable is.

You’ve got to get out there and take this peace, this good news, to others. That’s where the gospel is, that’s where love is, in our interactions with people. That’s where Jesus, that’s where Scripture, and that’s where the Holy Spirit sends us. Out.

When we open ourselves to this interpersonal gospel, this gospel that happens between two or more people, that’s where lasting transformation can happen. I know we are in an era of self-love, and self-love is hugely important—we get ourselves into trouble if we try to love our neighbor as ourselves, but we loathe ourselves, rather than love ourselves. Love yourself for sure.

But love ultimately calls us outside ourselves. Love is bigger than us. And if love is the most powerful force in the world… if God is love and we belong to God… it’s living out this love and experiencing what happens when it is shared and multiplied, that then changes our lives, and the world, in meaningful ways.

Jesus gives his 70 disciples his “tips for the road” and sends them out. And they come back filled with joy saying, Jesus! You were right! In your name even the demons submit to us!”

And Jesus says, “Right??” I’ve seen all this happen and I’ve given you this authority and it will keep you safe.

“Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

How do we make sense of that? David Lose, writing in “Feasting on the Word” says:

“Jesus declares there is something even more significant than the triumph of the 70… what matters more than the earthly and spiritual successes of Jesus’ followers is the eternal relationship with God they enjoy through him. This relationship is theirs by grace, for they are simultaneously recipients of, and heralds to, the grace and mercy of God embodied in Jesus.”

Jesus knew they were going to have success in the towns and places he sent them. He wanted them to experience that and that was exactly what they needed. And it’s exactly what we need from time to time.

But not all days are going to be like that and not all our encounters with people are going to be infused with love and leave us feeling love. What’s more important than the success of our ministries or our evangelism, is our relationship with God, which we experience through Jesus.

This relationship is theirs, and ours, by grace. And I love this: we are simultaneously RECIPIENTS OF, and HERALDS TO the grace and mercy of God embodied in Jesus.

Let’s go back to our morning coffee revelation, the one we experience by ourselves. There we have the realization: we are the recipients of God’s grace and love. Let’s think of it as light in a frequently dark world.

If we keep that light to ourselves, it doesn’t do much to spread the light that the world needs to get out of the darkness. So we take that light and we become heralds TO it, this grace and love that we are shown in Jesus.

Jesus sends the 70 disciples, and us, out with this light. He sends us out to others, in humility and vulnerability, asking us to be dependent on him and on those who we encounter.

But don’t lose focus. There will be great days. There will be crappy days. There will be in-between days. And sometimes all three in one day.

We can’t control those things. What we can do is rejoice and be grateful for our relationship with God. That we get to do this work, that we get to experience and share this light, this grace; that God is with us, and that this good news, this gospel of love that we share, is exactly what the world needs right now.

The 2025 Christ Church Easton/Diocese of Easton Mission Team in Wilmington, NC.

Let’s pray: Lord, you give us stories in Scripture for our learning, so that we can find you and find ourselves in them. Help us hear what your story is saying to each of our hearts. Let us locate where you are calling us, and how to amend our lives by your love and grace, so we can get there. And help us receive, experience, and share your gospel, your good news, in the world, with each other.

Amen.

Taking Notes, at peace or in the wilderness

I am rarely without a notebook and pen. It would be fair for me to wear a sign on my back that says, “Will stop to write.” Mostly because otherwise I will forget. I will stop my longboard if a compelling thought jumps into my mind. And I frequently sit along a shoreline, in the woods, on a bench or wherever to take notes.

When it comes to church, for the readings and the sermon, I often just have pen and paper at the ready.

These are notes and thoughts after sermons and discussion last weekend at Christ Church Easton.

Last weekend’s lectionary readings were Isaiah 11:1-10 (The Peaceful Kingdom) and Matthew 3:1-12 (The Proclamation of John the Baptist). They will both speak to you if you let them.

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
    and a branch shall grow out of his roots.
The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,
    the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
    the spirit of counsel and might,
    the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.
His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord.
Isaiah 11:1-3

On our Sunday morning Zoom discussion, Fr. Bill Ortt unpacked the Isaiah reading.

Wisdom happens in the heart and soul. Understanding takes place in the mind.
Fr. Bill Ortt

That’s one to sit with. We comprehend things with our mind, but when something sinks into our soul, it changes us.

And as we got talking about how to take “the fear of the Lord,” Fr. Bill talked about the ocean–how it deserves reverence and respect; how it leaves us humbled and in awe when we think about its size and power.

My mind went to the stars. When I stare at a clear night sky and try to think about the distance and time that is between us and God’s artwork across the cosmos; if I see a shooting star or the recent eclipse, my sense of awe and wonder is beyond stoked.

In verses 6-10, Isaiah goes on to describe what the coming peaceful kingdom might be like:

The wolf shall live with the lamb;
    the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the lion will feed together,
    and a little child shall lead them.
⁷The cow and the bear shall graze;
    their young shall lie down together;
    and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
⁸The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,
    and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.
⁹They will not hurt or destroy
    on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
    as the waters cover the sea.

This whole section is filled with hope for a people that need it. Maybe with what the world we live in feels like, looking forward with hope for a time to come might do us some good.

In Matthew’s Gospel, John the Baptist appears in the wilderness. He looks crazy, wearing camel-hair clothing and a leather belt, eating locusts and wild honey. He tells people to change their lives, to live differently.

We got talking about the wilderness.

“Temptation in the Wilderness” by Briton Riviere, WikiMedia Commons

The kind of wilderness they talk about in the Bible is not a place we want to be. Wilderness experiences are those times we feel alone, lost, stripped down, exhausted, confused.

We talked about the need for recognizing those times in the wilderness, those times of desperation.

“Sometimes we go into the wilderness, but sometimes the wilderness comes to us.”

That was a comment made in our Zoom discussion. There is a lot of truth to that. Being aware of the wilderness, even if we don’t feel that’s where we are, can be a saving grace.

Wilderness changes us. It can make us wiser. It can help us understand what other people are going through. It can wake up our compassion. When we come out of the wilderness renewed, we want to be people who help others who are struggling to make it through.

Towards the end of Fr. Bill’s sermon in the church on Sunday morning, he tied it together:

“We need to know what it means to be people who have been healed, forgiven, and renewed.”

Amen.

Getting Connected: The Feast of St. Francis

St. Francis was not in the movie “Stripes.” He’s not that (“my friends call me psycho”/lighten up) Francis. I think the first time I connected Francis of Assisi to words was the prayer that is attributed to him:

“Lord, make us instruments of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let us sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is discord, union;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.”

And I thought, I want what that guy has. I want to get to that place. It is not an easy road. And then I realized that St. Francis is the guy who is always pictured with animals, connected to nature, known as a hippy in some circles, patron saint of the environment. So more good stuff.

And as I’ve come to find writers and thinkers who resonate, open doors, help me name things, or get out of my own way, one of those folks is Richard Rohr, who is a Franciscan friar/monk.

Today (Oct. 4) is the “Feast of St. Francis,” which has given me a bunch to think on. Rohr’s book “Eager to Love,” outlines “the alternative way of Francis of Assisi.” In his preface, Rohr says:

“We are each loved by God in a particular and incomparable way, as in the case of a bride and bridegroom.” Francis and Clare knew that the love God has for each soul is unique and made to order… Divine intimacy is always and precisely particular and made to order–and thus ‘intimate.'”

If you dig into his life and teachings, Francis (1182-1286) is a fascinating friar. Son of a wealthy merchant who lived it up, was captured, got sick, had dreams and visions and transformed his life. He lived a life most of us couldn’t handle or live up to. He embraced and marveled in all of God’s creation. Again from Rohr:

“In Franciscan mysticism, there is no distinction between sacred and profane. All of the world is sacred… you can pray always and everything that happens is potentially sacred if you allow it to be. Our job as humans is to make admiration of others and adoration of God fully conscious and deliberate.”

All the world is sacred, pray always, everything that happens to you is a chance to find meaning and grace. Francis is often depicted in nature, praying with and spending time with animals. I think artist Sue Betanzos, who creates whimsical paintings of St. Francis, and whose painting is the featured image at the top of this post (used with the artist’s permission), gets his connection to nature.

On this Feast of St. Francis, I want to make it a point to study him more, his life, writing, and teachings. One of the things he seems to get is the idea that we are all connected to everything–God, each other, nature/creation, it’s all rolled into one. As Rohr puts it:

“The great irony of faith is that authentic God experience does indeed make you know that you are quite special, favorite, and chosen–but you realize others are too! That is the giveaway that your experience is authentic, although it may take a while to get there. You are indeed hurting–and others are too. Your only greatness is that you share the common greatness of the whole communion of saints. Your membership in the communion of sinners is a burden you can now carry patiently because others are also carrying it with you. You are finally inside what Thomas Merton calls ‘the general dance.’ You no longer need to be personally correct as much as you need to be connected.”

We don’t need to be correct, we need to be connected. And what St. Francis got, what Rohr gets, what Christ was making known to us, among so many other things, is that we are all connected, to God, each other, the Universe/Creation. Now we just need to start acting like it, both for the joy, the wonder, and the stewardship that is entrusted to us.

St. Francis connects all the dots in his “Canticle of Brother Sun,” quoted in part below the stained glass:

Praised be you, my Lord, with all your creatures,
especially by Brother Sun,
who is the day through whom you give us light.
He is beautiful and radiant with great splendor,
of You Most High, he bears the likeness.

Praised be You, My Lord through Sister Moon and the stars,
In the heavens you have made them bright, precious and fair.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all weather’s moods,
by which You cherish all that You have made.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water,
So useful, humble, precious and pure.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
through whom You light the night and he is beautiful and playful and robust and strong.

Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister,
Mother Earth
who sustains and governs us,
producing varied fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.