Frederick Franck turned to the door of the building, a massive wooden sculpture in the form of the sun and its rays, and pushed it open. I saw that it turned on a central axis, so that only one half of the door was open at any one time. To remind us, he murmured, that we step into this sacred space as we walk into life, alone and silently . . . I looked around me and marveled at this ninety-year-old man from whose hand had sprung everything I could see. He had carved the door, made the stained-glass windows and every other object in sight. Pacem in Terris, I realized, was one man’s act of artistic faith: a work of art outside the parameters of the art world, and also a religious statement unconfined by any religion.
We have the potential to become like a tree planted by the stream.
Like the tree, we need nurturance — both of water and of sun if
we are to blossom. We need nurturance from all the elements;
without the soil, the sun, and the air, our food will not grow.
We need nurturance from the plants. We all need human nurturance
in the form of friendship and love, and we need God's own divine
nurturance which empowers us to trust in the Author of creation.