Prayer of Saint Francis — Make Me an Instrument of Peace

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. 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. This is the Peace Prayer attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi. He may not have written it himself; the earliest version dates from the early twentieth century. But the spirit of it is pure Francis. The little poor man of Assisi who left his wealthy father's house, embraced lepers, preached to birds, made friends with a wolf, and reformed the Church not by argument but by becoming Christlike. Tonight, Lord, this prayer is mine. Make me an instrument of Your peace. Not a noise. Not a complainer. Not an arguer. An instrument. A flute through which Your music can be played in this small corner of the world You have given me. Where there is hatred, let me sow love. Even in the hardest cases. Even when I cannot bring myself to like the person. Love is a choice, not a feeling. Let me choose it. Where there is injury, pardon. Pardon for the hurt I have caused. Pardon for the hurt others have caused me. Pardon as a way of life, not a one-time event. Where there is doubt, faith. Not naive belief that ignores reality. Faith that sees reality clearly and trusts You anyway. Faith for myself. Faith on behalf of others who are losing it. Where there is despair, hope. The shy hope that is the seed of all transformation. The hope that does not deny how bad things are but believes that You are still on the throne. Where there is darkness, light. Even the smallest candle. The kind word in a tense room. The phone call at the right moment. The presence with a friend who is going through hard times. Where there is sadness, joy. Not the forced cheer that dismisses real pain. The deep joy of knowing You are with us in the sadness. The joy that surfaces, sometimes unexpectedly, even in dark seasons. 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. Saint Francis, intercede for me. May the same Spirit that filled you, fill me. May the love you had for the poor, for animals, for the wounded Church, for the suffering Christ, be born in me too. Lord Jesus, make me a small Francis. A small instrument. A little candle. Use me where I am, with what I have, to make peace. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.