Sermon – A Celtic Way of Gratitude
Sermon Preached by Reverend Tracey Gracey on Sunday, 12 October, 2025
I invite you to listen to these words from St Patrick’s Breastplate, which is a prayer of gratitude for God’s presence in all creation.
I arise today through the strength of heaven,
the light of the sun, the radiance of the moon,
the splendour of fire, the speed of lightning,
the stability of earth, the depth of sea,
the firmness of rock.
For all that has been — thanks.
For all that will be — yes.
Legend says that St Patrick — who helped shape the early Celtic church —prayed these words as he travelled across Ireland,
a land of mist, mountain, and sea,
where people had long found the sacred in the natural world.
Rather than reject that deep connection to creation,Patrick embraced it.
He saw the hand of Christ in the wind and the waves,
in the sun above and the earth below.
For him, faith wasn’t something separate from life.
It was a daily awakening to the presence of God in all things.
And those who followed in his footsteps lived with this same awareness —
what John O’Donohue, an Irish poet and catholic priest shaped by the Celtic tradition, called a spirituality of noticing.
For the Celts, gratitude wasn’t just a mood or an emotion.
It was a way of seeing — and a way of living.
They believed that God’s presence filled all creation —
that nothing was too ordinary or too small to hold the divine.
Gratitude began with attentiveness —
seeing the hand of God not only in creation, but in people and in daily tasks.
The Celts didn’t separate sacred and secular.
They found holiness in washing, in cooking, in walking, in working.
They didn’t “feel grateful” and then pray.
They prayed in order to become grateful.
Gratitude was something they practised —
through rhythm and repetition — woven through their days.
Morning blessings to begin the day in awareness:
Bless to me, O God, this rising sun,
the light upon my face, the breath within me,
the work that waits, the love that calls.
Bless to me this new beginning.
Mealtime prayers to give thanks for food and for those who prepared it:
Bless this food upon our table,
the hands that sowed, the hearts that baked,
the earth that nourished, and the love that shares.
Evening prayers to bless what had been and to release what was unfinished:
Bless to me, O Christ, the quiet of night,
the peace of forgiveness, the gift of rest,
and all that tomorrow will bring.
And even prayers for modern tasks:
Bless to me this computer, O Lord,
this screen that connects me, this work that I do.
May each word I type be kind,
each action mindful, each click a blessing.
Their prayers were short, rhythmic,
and part of the ordinary flow of life.
Gratitude for the Celts was about relationship —
not just thanking God, but blessing God in return.
They’d often say, We bless God, and God blesses us.
It wasn’t about duty or words; it was about living in tune with creation and the Creator.
They didn’t give thanks because life was easy.
They gave thanks because they trusted God was near.
And that same spirit flows through the story of the ten lepers —
people who knew what it was to be cut off and afraid.
Yet one of them, when he saw that he’d been healed,
stopped, turned back, and gave thanks.
That turning back —
that moment of noticing —
is where gratitude truly began.
The Samaritan saw that he was healed —
awareness is always the beginning of gratitude.
He stopped and turned back —
just as the Celts paused in daily life to notice and bless.
He fell at Jesus’ feet —
gratitude drew him into relationship, not just recognition.
Jesus said, “Your faith has made you well.”
Gratitude brings that same kind of wholeness —
restoring body, heart, and soul.
Gratitude led the Samaritan to act —
to praise, to speak, to share what he had seen.
This story reminds us that gratitude isn’t the ending to a blessing.
It’s the beginning of transformation.
When we notice God’s grace and turn back toward it, we begin to live differently.
Celtic wisdom invites us to do the same —
to stop, to turn, and to give thanks.
Not from duty,
but from awareness —
because gratitude opens our eyes to God’s presence here and now.
Just like the Celts,
we can make gratitude part of our everyday lives —
something real and practical
Some of my practices have been:
A Gratitude Journal
At the end or beginning of each day or week,
write down five things you’re grateful for, big or small.
Gratitude Stones
Use five small stones as a prayer ritual.
Hold each one and name a person, a place, a moment, a lesson, and a hope.
As you lay them down, say, For this gift, I give thanks.
A Spoken Blessing
before you begin anything — a meal, a meeting, a task, or a journey — pause.
Take a breath. Offer a simple prayer, not asking for something, but recognising that God is already present.
In these small acts, gratitude moves from being a feeling
to becoming a practice — from words to a way of life.
And as we live this way — pausing, noticing, blessing —
we begin to pray with our whole lives.
God of the sparrow, God of the whale,
God of the swirling stars,
How does the creature say Awe?
How does the creature say Praise?
God of the rainbow, God of the cross,
God of the empty grave,
How does the creature say Grace?
How does the creature say Thanks?
May we, like the Celts and the Samaritan,
find our own way to say thanks —
in word, in action, and in every moment of our daily lives.
Amen.