Make Me an Instrument of Peace: The Prayer and Path of Saint Francis

By Alan Lowis.

Born into wealth, into a life of ease and privilege, the son of a wealthy cloth merchant, young Francesco had everything the world could offer—fine clothes, parties, admiration, and dreams of knighthood and glory.

But something in him stirred. Even as the world celebrated him, his soul grew restless. He knew there was something deeper and more profound than the life before him.

After a period of illness and war, Francis began to question everything.

One day, in a crumbling chapel, he heard a quiet voice—maybe from within, maybe from above—say: “Rebuild my Church.”

He took it literally at first, using his father’s wealth to repair a broken building. But in time, he realized: it was not stone and mortar that needed restoring. It was the human spirit. The heart of compassion. The soul of the church itself.  

So he gave it all up—his wealth, his inheritance, his fine clothes—and walked into the world barefoot and free.  To give and to serve.  To make the world better for the people he saw who so desperately needed it.

He became a brother to the poor, the lepers, the birds, the outcast. He lived simply, joyfully, and humbly—seeing God in all things. He washed feet in humility. He gave what he had in generosity. And above all, he loved with his entire being.

He didn’t set out to be a saint.

He simply chose to serve.

And in doing so, he became one of the most beloved and enduring symbols of humility, compassion, and peace the world has ever known.

The Peace Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I 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.

The Sacred Inversion: The Cure to All Wounds

At first glance, the Prayer of St. Francis seems like a beautiful list of virtues. But it is far more than that.

It’s a spiritual map. A mirror. A paradox.

A holy whisper that says: The very thing you long for… is what you were born to give.

And in the giving, you are made whole.

The first half of the prayer calls upon us to become the living cure to all that ails the world.

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”

What is an instrument?

A musical instrument resonates. It vibrates.

It channels beauty and emotion beyond words.

It does not create the music—it allows the music to move through it.

And other instruments—tools—are crafted for a purpose.

Precise. Intentional. Made to serve.

To be an instrument of peace is to let peace flow through you,

with intention, resonance, and grace.

Next it asks us to sow.

What is Sowing?

For every wound in the world, the prayer calls us to act—not by reacting, not by controlling,

but by sowing.

To sow is not to wait.

It is to set the process of creation in motion.

To sow is what we do when we dream of a beautiful garden—a world alive with peace, love, mercy, and light.

Even when the ground is dry and hardened,

we show up.

We clear the soil.

We plant the seeds.

We work the land with presence, purpose, and love.

We rise each day to water, to nourish, to tend.

We offer warmth and protection.

We pull the weeds.

We shelter what is growing.

We nurture, even when we see no bloom—

because we trust the process.

Not just once.  Over and over.

And over time, as we persist—day in, day out,

as a way of being—the garden begins to grow.

Roots deepen.

Sprouts appear.

And eventually—the world blooms.

This is what St. Francis calls us to do.

To cultivate love, plant hope, and to sow the seeds of a more beautiful world.

And What Are We Called Upon to Sow?

Love

Love vanquishes hatred like sunlight melting the morning frost.

It warms the heart, melts defenses, and soothes the pain.

Frost cannot drive out frost—only sunlight can.

Hate cannot drive out hate—only love can.

And when love is given—especially in the face of hatred—

it melts the heart frozen by fear,

softens what was hardened by pain,

and awakens the goodness that was always there beneath it all.

Pardon

Pardon mends injury like thread drawn through torn cloth.

It doesn’t ignore the damage or pretend it was never there—

it pulls the broken pieces back together, not just to cover the wound,

but to keep it from tearing further and to make it whole.

It renews, repairs, and redeems—and through mercy and grace,

it makes possible a future that would not exist without forgiveness.

Faith

Faith disarms doubt like a lighthouse steady in a storm.

It doesn’t silence the questions—it stands through them.

Faith doesn’t cancel uncertainty—it anchors us beneath it.

When the winds of confusion howl and clarity seems far away,

faith is what keeps us from drifting.

Not because we see the shore, but because we trust it's there.

Hope

Hope lifts us from despair like dawn rising after the longest night.

It doesn’t deny the darkness—it breaks its grip.

Hope is the voice that says, "Keep going" when everything else has gone silent.

It breathes life into what felt lost,

and lights the path forward even when we cannot yet see the way.

Hope whispers that the story isn’t over—and gives us the strength to turn the page.

Light

Light chases away darkness.

It doesn’t argue, overpower, or demand.

It simply arrives—and in its presence, darkness ceases.

Light doesn’t force clarity—it reveals it.

It allows us to see what was hidden and to walk forward in truth with clarity.

Wherever light shines, darkness cannot remain.

Joy

Joy awakens us from sadness like a song we forgot we knew.

It is lightness of spirit, the energy of life, a happiness beyond measure.

Joy is our natural state—the place we return to when pain has passed and truth is remembered.

We do not need to escape sadness, only not be trapped in it.

Joy tempers sorrow into serenity, then lifts us gently upward.

It reminds us that grief honors what was lost—but we are not meant to live forever in shadow.

Joy softens, heals, and ultimately restores us to the center of who we are.

The Deeper Shift: "Giving" Is the Answer

The second half of the Prayer of St. Francis turns inward.

It moves from asking to be a healer in the world—

to asking to be transformed at the core of our being.

It’s not just about what we offer others…

It’s about how that offering heals us too.

This is the sacred inversion in its most personal form:

We want to be consoled—because we are hurting.

We want to be understood—because we feel unseen.

We want to be loved—because something in us aches for that most meaningful connection.

But when we stay in “want”, we stay in lack.

And the prayer gently reveals the way out - inversion:

• Need consolation, console others—and your own hurt begins to dissolve.

• Need understanding, Understand others—and suddenly, you will feel understood

• Need love, Love others—and love will rise within you, fill you and flow through you.

  
  

Because the key to living… is giving.

It is in giving that we receive.

Not as a transaction. But as a transformation.

As we become the thing we long for, the longing itself disappears.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.

When we offer mercy, we open a path for our own soul to breathe.In showing grace to another’s imperfection, we free ourselves from the illusion that we must be flawless to be loved.

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Not physical death—

but the death of the ego, of fear, of the illusion that we are separate, broken, or unworthy.

To “die” in this way is to let go—of anger, of grasping, of self-protection.

And in doing so, we awaken to what’s Eternal in us.  We access the Eternal and Infinite.

When we stop clinging, we start shining.

When we stop chasing, we start becoming.

And when we love without neediness, give without fear of scarcity, and forgive with mercy and grace—we realize the truth: we already have within us all that we were seeking.

In surrender, we are restored.

In humility, we remember.

And in dying to the illusion of separation,

we are born into the oneness that never left us.

That is the heart of this prayer.

That is power to healing.

That is the path to bringing the Eternal & Infinite into your life—

and into the world—now.

💞 Share the Peace

If this touched your heart, pass it on.

Send it to someone who is sowing goodness quietly,

who is loving in the face of hate,

forgiving in a world that forgets how.

Or share it with someone who is hurting— someone who needs to be reminded that they are not alone, that joy returns, that healing is possible, and that within them lives the light.

Let us all be instruments of peace.