The Right Order of Things
A Meditation by Rev. Cameron Trimble
“All creatures are connected… Let us treat them with kindness and not with cruelty.” — Saint Francis of Assisi
We live on a ten-acre regenerative farm we call The Common Good Farm. Privately, though, we affectionately call it the Trimble Funny Farm. It’s the kind of place where vegetables grow in wild profusion, ducks and chickens roam free, and dogs race each other with the kind of joy that makes you laugh. It’s chaotic. It’s beautiful. On most days, it feels like a small patch of the world turned right-side up.
Not long ago, an older farmer from the area came by for a visit. He walked around, eyes taking in the layout, the flocks, the pond we built for the ducks, the dogs leaping and barking to get his attention. He paused beside the fence and looked at me, smiling. “These animals might be spoiled,” he said.
I smiled back, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t disagree, but I wasn’t sure “spoiled” was quite the right word.
To me, the land, the animals, the plants and trees are not mine. I don’t own them. We belong to each other. If they’re spoiled, then so am I. We live in a relationship of sacred reciprocity. I offer them food, care, and protection. They offer eggs, meat, companionship, and beauty. It’s a partnership, an entanglement of grace. In my view, it’s how life is meant to be rightly ordered.
This kind of relationship stands in sharp contrast to the world we’ve built beyond the fences of our fields. Ours is a disordered global system, one that breaks the balance of creation again and again. We raze ancient forests that took thousands of years to grow, clearing them in hours for timber and cattle.1 In Alaska, a new mining boom now races to tear rare earth minerals from the ground, chasing profits buried deep in the Arctic, despite the fragile ecosystems that will be destroyed in the process.2 Our rivers run polluted with agricultural runoff. Entire species vanish without ceremony—pollinators, songbirds, fish, forests—casualties of a system that knows how to count profit, but not loss.
We’ve built pipelines that slice through Indigenous lands and strip mines that scar sacred mountains. We trade ancient biodiversity for short-term convenience. We consume like nothing is sacred, and then wonder why our spirits feel so empty.
This is not just ecological collapse: it is spiritual amnesia. We have forgotten that all living things are kin, not commodities.
Saint Francis of Assisi, who called the sun his brother and the moon his sister, reminded us that “all creatures are connected… Let us treat them with kindness and not with cruelty.” For Francis, animals were not property but companions, members of what he called the “universal fraternity of creation.” He saw every creature, from worm to wolf, as a reflection of the divine, infused with dignity simply by existing.
His Canticle of the Creatures, the first great poem in the Italian language, names the sun, wind, fire, water, and even “Sister Death” as kin. This wasn’t metaphor to Francis. It was theology. The world was not a backdrop to human drama, but a sacred text, shimmering with divine presence. The Incarnation, for Francis, extended not only to humanity but to the whole created order—Christ present in the lowliest creature, the humblest element, the wildest landscape. That’s why he called poverty his “lady”—because to live without grasping was to live in alignment with the way of Christ and the harmony of the earth.
For Francis, creation was not something to be subdued, but something to be loved into mutuality. His vision invites us into a spirituality of kinship, where humility becomes not self-denial, but right-sizing: remembering that we are one part of a vast and holy family, called not to rule, but to reverence.
All of our sacred traditions whisper the same truth: the measure of a life well-lived is not what we own, but how we belong. Greed teaches us to possess. Sacred reciprocity teaches us to participate. The former isolates us from the web of life. The latter binds us into it, lovingly.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
Where do I experience sacred reciprocity in my life—mutual giving and receiving?
How have I been shaped by a culture of ownership or control?
What might it look like to live more deeply in relationship—with animals, land, and the wider web of life?
A Prayer for the Day
A Prayer To Be a Rightful Creature Among Creatures
Divine Creator of wings and roots, Of feathers and fur, soil and sunlight, Teach us again how to live in harmony. Where we have sought to control, soften us. Where we have consumed without gratitude, slow us. Where we have forgotten our kinship with the more-than-human world, awaken us. Bless the creatures who share their lives with ours— Those who nourish us, guard us, companion us. Let us not take more than we need, Nor forget the sacred bond that binds us. May we walk gently, live humbly, and love wildly— As creatures among creatures, Grateful, grounded, and graced. Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Creaturely Attention
Today, spend five minutes simply observing an animal, whether it’s a pet, a bird in the sky, or a creature crossing your path. Don’t analyze or interpret. Just notice. Breathe with them. Listen. Let their presence teach you something.
Then, reflect:
What do they need to flourish?
What do you need to flourish?
What shared rhythm of life do you notice?
If you’re able, do one small act of care for an animal or living system today. Let it be a quiet offering of companionship, one creature to another.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
November 13, 20 2025, 7pm ET - In Search of a New Story: Reimagining What Comes Next, A 4-Part Online Series with Dr. Matthew Fox, Cameron Trimble, Ilia Delio, Diana Butler Bass, Caroline Myss and Luther Smith. We are living through the unraveling of many old stories—about who we are, why we’re here, and how we are meant to live together on this Earth. As these inherited narratives collapse under the weight of climate crisis, social fragmentation, and spiritual disconnection, the question becomes clear: What story will guide us now? REGISTRATION NOW OPEN!
July 19-24, 2026 - Join me and amazing co-facilitator, Victoria, on retreat in the back-country of beautiful Wyoming. The Art of Wilding is a 5-Day Expedition for Women Leaders. We will spend the week reconnecting to nature, exploring our inner landscapes for change, and engage the wisdom of spiritual teachings. Click here to learn more.
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
If you are a leader or member of a congregation looking for consulting support in visioning, planning, hiring or staffing, please consider Convergence.
https://www.wsj.com/us-news/alaskas-new-mining-rush-chases-something-more-coveted-than-gold-f3992f3c?gaa_at=eafs&gaa_n=AWEtsqdvk7c5aI0WuB-kCoAi5pU1lHkcdflhLeGW7Str2jdKOcMJpSs7EJHoBvT2Zig%3D&gaa_ts=6910bf04&gaa_sig=6-3utdZozWx3GT5BtavbAy57w8W0PInTYrnX1MwO7SZmZy0qruwHSU01dKd7PC1-5GhbtvvUjNkSYJLQUOo6Qw%3D%3D