Reflection on John 15:1-8

 

John 15:1-8 (NRSV)

[Jesus said:] 1“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. 2He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. 3You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. 4Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. 5I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. 6Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. 7If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. 8My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.” 

Reflection

“I just do not know who I am anymore,” she said as she used the tissue to dab her eyes, trying to preserve her makeup; trying to preserve what little was left of her identity.  “We did everything together, and I mean everything.  His friends were my friends.  My interests were his interests.  Our home…”  The makeup was destroyed at the thought of her home never being the same again.  “Who am I now?” she asked, hoping that someone could answer.

She was not alone as she asked who she was.  I have heard the questions many, many times.  Often it is out of the mouth of a teen, not yet discovering their place in this world.  Other times, it is out of the mouth of a man who has just retired from a career that he loved, wondering who he is now that he is not his job.  I have even heard it out of the mouth of a mother who appeared to be the most grounded person in the world: the head of the PTA and the scouts.  But after her last child went off to college, the crisis of identity snuck up out of nowhere.  It was disorienting, anxiety causing, and devastating.

Shout out to all of my friends who are having an identity crisis.  You know who you are…I guess you don’t.

Whenever I have an identity crisis, I go into the bathroom and look in the mirror.  It’s the best place for self-reflection.

Sorry, bad joke.  You know, identity is an inside joke.

I do not mean to make light of it.  I actually share the bad jokes in order to sand the edges off of the sharp loss of identity that so many of us can feel.  It is so painful and sharp.  After-all, it is the loss of yourself.  Who are you when you are no longer you?  Who can you hold onto and trust when you can no longer trust in yourself?

Sometimes, people are quite the opposite.  Sometimes, people know exactly who they are, but who they are probably does not look anywhere close to the person that God crafted and molded at the start.  A couple of years ago, I ran into a pastor who was proud to be someone who did not care about other people.  “When you care too much about others, nothing gets done.  I get things done,” the pastor proudly proclaimed.  “I am not like other pastors.  I do not care if someone needs to get stepped on in order to accomplish a ministry goal.  You want something to get done, but are too worried about what others will think, come to me.”  I am not so sure that Jesus taught us to step on people in order to get things done.  That seems like a twisted sort of Christian identity.  Rather, when Jesus talks about who he is, he says things like:

“I am the bread of life” (John 6:35)

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven” (John 6:51).

“I am the light of the world” (John 8:12).

“As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world” (John 9:5).

“I am the gate for the sheep” (John 10:7).

“I am the gate.  Whoever enters by me will be saved” (John 10:9).

“I am the good shepherd” (John 10:11).

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me” (John 10:14).

“I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25).

“I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6).

“I am the true vine” (John 15:1).

“I am the vine, you are the branches” (John 15:5).

What jumps out at me in all of these different images describing Jesus is that they are all relational.  In other words, Jesus is who he is because of who he promises to be connected with.  Jesus describes himself as the bread of life, bread of us straight from heaven.  He describes himself as a gate, who keeps us safe.  He describes himself as a shepherd, who knows his sheep and does not forget any of them.  These images of Jesus’ identity all have to do with us, and caring for us, and infusing us with life. 

This is probably most easily seen when Jesus describes himself as the vine and us as the branches.  He says, “I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

I want you to notice something here.  Not only does he identify who he is and what he is about, “I am the vine,” but also identifies who we are and what we are to be about.  Jesus says that “you are the branches.”  Notice that he does not say, “You can become the branches, if...”  He does not say, “You were the branches at one time, but…”  Nor, does he say, “They are the branches.  Look at them.”  Rather, he declares in no uncertain terms that “you are the branches.”

That means something.  To the woman who is struggling to figure out what to do now that the love of her life is gone, “you are the branches” means something.  To the teen who does not know what a good life even looks like, “I am the vine, you are the branches” means something.”  To all who do not know who they are or who they will be, “you are the branches” provides what they could not find themselves.  They are all branches of Jesus, the vine.  Their life connects directly with his.  Their worth is tied directly into his worth.  What do branches look like?  Well, they look a lot like the vine.

Even the pastor who seems not to care about the destruction that he causes is told that he is one of Jesus’ branches.  Jesus desperately wants us to see that we are attached to him; we gain our life and strength from him.  And, that may require some pruning.

Jesus says, “my Father is the vinegrower.  He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit” (John 15:1-2).  If we were honest with ourselves, we would all realize that there are probably some things about ourselves that need to be pruned and trimmed away.

“It’s my anger,” the teen blurted out immediately.  I asked the confirmation students what it was about themselves that God probably needs to prune.  I had expected the usual silence and uncomfortable shifting in their seat as they weighed whether or not to share something so personal.  But, to my shock, this teen blurted it out almost before I was even done asking the question.  I was kind of proud of the young man, because so many of us cannot even see the things about ourselves that need to be pruned, much less share them with peers gathered around.

“I get angry way too fast and it hurts other people, a lot of the time.  I don’t want to hurt them, it just happens because I do not take the time to think.  I just get angry,” the teen finished.  Most of us around the room were nodding in agreement, not in agreement that he needed to prune away his anger (though that was probably true), but because we could all see a reflection of ourselves in the words he shared.  He was our mirror, and it helped us identify the things that needed to be pruned away from us as well.

“I am too self-conscious,” one girl offered.  “I talk too much and it gets me in trouble,” another offered.  “I stink,” the one who had just removed their shoes remarked.  We laughed, because it was true.

So, we prayed, and asked to be pruned, so that we might, as Jesus put it, “bear more fruit” (John 15:2).  But, we also took some time in the prayer to remember who we were, despite the dead parts that needed pruning.  “Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me,” we reminded ourselves, using the promises of Jesus to shape our prayer.  “I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit” (John 15:4-5).  And so, I want to do the same with you this morning.  I want to pray that you too might discover that you are one of Jesus’ essential branches.  Let us pray.

Open our ears to hear your words Jesus, and open our hearts to accept them as true.  Even though we may lose a sense of who we are, you know exactly who we are.  You are the vine and we are the branches.  Our life and purpose comes from you.  Prune all that does not feed off of your vine.  Remind us that we are a branch who is worth pruning and attending to.  Lord Jesus, give to us your life and your love always.  Amen.

Reflection on John 10:11-18

 

She looked at the calendar and stared at the date circled with red marker.  She was obsessed with it.  It was not healthy for her to keep looking at it over and over again.  But, how could she not?  It was the date when everything was going to change.  The date circled was her 18^th birthday, and it was the day that she would leave foster care and have to figure out the world on her own, without a family.

She would have to move out of her foster parent’s home, and they would no longer be her parents.  That is the thing with foster parents, they include you in everything.  They include you in trips.  They include you in Christmas present exchanges.  They work very hard for you to feel loved and included, but no matter how hard they try, you are nothing more than a temporary child.  No one sacrifices themselves for you when you are a foster child.  Her foster parents were literally hired hands who cared for a price.  They were great, but she was not one of their own.  You might as well be sitting on the side of the road, asking for handouts, because that is all she would become the day of her 18^th birthday.

Across the world from the young woman, and many years previous, there sat a man on the side of the road.  He felt the familiar handle of the wooden cup, and lifted it up when he heard someone approach.  Sometimes he would feel lucky as he heard the sound of a coin plunk the bottom of the cup.  Sometimes he would feel just as forgotten as always when he heard the feet walk past without recognition.  He used to call out to people as they passed by, but it didn’t seem to make a difference.  Now, he just sat silent with the cup, trapped by his own thoughts.

As the random thoughts swam through his head, a conversation nearby broke his mild-mannered concentration. 

“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” 

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”

Then the man heard the sound of spitting and rubbing.  Soon he felt the cool feel of mud on his eyes.

“Go, wash in the pool of Siloem,” the one who touched his face ordered.

As soon as the waters splashed his face, a bright…something, pierced through his eye lids.  Light?  Was that what light looks like?  He looked around and saw the world.  He had never seen the world before: flowers, trees, people, birds, shovels, dirt, and that gooey, smelling stuff on the side of the road.  Just what is…oh, never mind, we know what that is.

The man that had healed him was like a shepherd that he never realized he had.  This surprise shepherd came, searching for him, and sacrificed some time to care for him and heal him.  He now belonged to the one who declared, “I know my own and my own know me.”  Even after the religious leaders questioned the man about his healing and drove him out of town, unsatisfied with his answers, Jesus still came back and found him once again, making the man a part of his sheepfold.  “I know my own and my own know me.”  Even he, the poor, blind beggar, was given the gift of a family from God; Jesus himself was the man’s family now.

"I am the good shepherd.”  Jesus explained.  “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.  The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them.”

As Jesus continued talking, the man considered how shepherds would face wolves with staff in hand.  Hired men did not care about the sheep in a similar way.  They just cared about their paycheck, and would stand by watching as some of the sheep were slaughtered by sharp fangs.  But, Jesus was not one of those who just stood by, or walked on by in his case.  Jesus was like a shepherd who actually took the time to care.

“I have other sheep,” Jesus continued, “that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.” 

“Other sheep” the man thought.  Of course, he realized, he was not the only one lost in the world.  There are other sheep who need to know that someone would be willing to lay down their lives for them.  “I have other sheep.”  Of course, there are.  But, that in no way diminished his adoption into Jesus’ family.  In fact, it made him proud that he and all those others were not just included, but were adopted into Jesus’ family.

From that day on, he sought to lay down his life for others, as Jesus had done for him.  He sought to be a lot like the good shepherd who sacrificed himself out of love for others.  The man sought to share with others the story of how Jesus had taken the time to save him.

“I have other sheep.”  The phrase echoes through time and around the world.  “I have other sheep.”  It falls upon the heart of a young woman who looks over at the calendar and sees that the circled day has come.  The day has arrived when she will be sent out on her own, her temporary family lost to her for good; alone.

She walked down the steps that led to her room one last time, carrying a large duffel stuffed full of clothes.  When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her foster parents were there, waiting to say “Goodbye.”  But, instead of saying “Goodbye,” they handed the young woman a large, sealed envelope.

“Open it,” they encouraged.  And so she did.

As she pulled out the page, she read the first words printed on the top of the page.  “Petition to adopt,” it read, and as she scanned down the page, she saw her name printed nicely in permanent ink.

“We just wanted you to know that we would do anything for you.  We love you.  You are going to be ours forever.  Now, put that bag back upstairs in your bedroom.”

There is nothing as powerful as being adopted into the family, forever.  There is nothing as powerful as being known, and being loved no matter what.  Jesus says to us, “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”  We are not just foster children in Jesus’ family.  We are known.  We are fully known, and we know the one who loves us no matter what: Jesus Christ.  Into his family we are adopted and made one of his permanent children forever.

Reflection on Luke 24:36b-48

 

It is hard to believe that it was only this past Monday that our family stopped in a park by a lake near Rochester NY to watch the sun disappear completely behind the moon during this year’s solar eclipse.  As many of you experienced, we did not get to directly see the moon slip over the sun.  Like the person changing clothes who looks up to see that the curtains of their hotel room are wide open to those staring on from the pool, the sun was apparently feeling stared at by too many people also, so it quickly put on some cloud cover. 

But, that does not mean that the event was any less impactful as we stood in the path of totality; the path of complete blockage of the sun’s warm rays.  As I have said to others, it is amazing how much light even a tiny sliver of sun showers upon us, because when even when that sliver of light was shut away at exactly 3:20 in the afternoon, in the snap of a finger the world around us became black.  Our eyes adjusted to the darkness as the street lights turned on and the world of the birds became silent.  A sense of how small you are in this big universe of ours sinks in as you stare at the darkness above and gaze to the light far off on the horizon. 

My own inner world of awe and amazement was broken suddenly by the kids recalling the story they had just heard two weeks ago in church, about how the sky turned dark the afternoon that Jesus spoke his last words. 

Here is that story as told by Luke: “It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Having said this, he breathed his last” (Luke 23:44-46). 

The story suddenly became real to all of us in a way that it never had before.  The cosmic sadness of Jesus’ death became very real in that moment; the skies proclaiming to us the story of the death of eternal love.

And, after three minutes of wonder and amazement, it was done.  Just as quickly as our cosmic light had been switched off, it was suddenly turned back on.  The birds started singing their morning songs.  They were just as confused by the event as we.  However, they continued on with their life, as did we, everyone immediately packing up their lawn chairs and heading back to their cars.  We were on the road in less than five minutes, trying to beat the post-eclipse traffic jam.

As I drove down the interstate I thought about what did not happen as the day briefly turned to night.  The world did not come to an end as some American preachers had predicted.  Nor, were faithful North Americans raptured into heaven, leaving behind only their clothes where they were once standing.  Or, maybe they were and just no one in New York State was included among their numbers. 

No, the world did not end last Monday, just as it did not end when the sun turned dark the day that Jesus died.  The sun’s light returned to normal back then, and it did so this week.  The air started to get warm once again, and the world continued on. 

And, that made me think about how we get so focused on “the end” and get ourselves wrapped up in the idea of death and the beyond.  How many words were preached before the eclipse, focusing on “the end?”  How many of us at least gazed briefly at the possibility of the end.  How many of us live with death on our minds, even if the dark thoughts are not in the forefront?  How many of our lives are influenced by fear, death, and the uncertainty about the future?  As I said, it is easy to get all wrapped up in death.  It is easy to focus on the end.

The disciples did.  Even though he promised that he would rise again after three days, the disciples somehow could not focus on that promise of life, and instead focused on the sadness of Jesus’ death.  They were caught in the dark shadow of Friday, even though it had passed over and the birds had started singing again on Sunday. 

And, later on, even though Jesus was walking right next to the two disciples who were walking to Emmaus, they were still so focused on his death that they did not see him.  They did not realize that he was with them until Jesus broke bread with them. 

And, in today’s story, even though Jesus comes and stands right with the disciples in Jerusalem, they are convinced that he is merely a ghost.  The Bible says, “They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost” (Luke 24:37).  He cannot possibly be alive?  He cannot possibly, actually be right there with them?

Yet, he is.  Their eyes are blind, even though they can see.  Their eyes are focused on death even though he is very much alive.

And, that is human nature.  We focus on death.  We focus on our fears.  We say things like, “This world is getting worse by the minute.”  We mutter generational fears saying, “I wouldn’t want to be born today.”  Even preachers are not immune, focusing on things like the sins of the world and the “final days,” rather than focusing on divine promises. 

Many of us think obsessively about the stresses of life, and the hardships of life, allowing those thoughts to take up the majority of our time and the majority of our headspace.  How easy it is to be caught up in the darkness, blind to the light that has returned to the world; blind to what Jesus is doing in this world around us.

In response to our obsession with death and the darkness of this world, Jesus steps into our lives, and the first words out of his mouth are, “Peace be with you” (Luke 24:36). 

I want you to know that the “peace” that Jesus gives here is more than the peace that is provided when plucking up and rocking an upset child.  The word for “peace” used here harkens back to that time in the Garden of Eden when people walked happily with God, and God with them, and they worked together without toiling…without breaking a sweat.  It is the type of peace that the Jewish faith refers to as “shalom.”  It is a peace where everyone is on the same page and everyone is in harmony with one another once again.  That is the sort of peace that Jesus blows on his people as he returns.

In addition to sharing that deep peace, Jesus says to his terrified and death focused disciples, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see” (Luke 24:38-39). 

In other words, Jesus’ answer to fear and death is himself.  His own risen body is the answer to fear and death.  Jesus shares the promise that fear and death do not have the last word, in a way that they can actually feel and touch.  Jesus eats some fish right in front of them to seal the deal.  He is there.  He is really present.  He has risen from the dead.

The lesson is clear: when fear and death loom, the disciples are to focus on Jesus.  They are not to focus on the end.  They are not to focus on their fears.  They are not to focus on the darkness.  They are to focus on Jesus, because in him is true life.

And, that is great for the disciples.  They get to focus on Jesus.  His body is literally right there in front of them, wounds and all.  But, what about in the future, after he is no longer bodily present, after he has ascended?  What about then?  How are they to focus on him then?

The Bible continues the story: “Then [Jesus] opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them, ‘Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things’” (Luke 24:35-38).

How is Jesus present to us still today?  The Bible says that he is present through the scriptures and through the Lord’s people.  Our minds are opened up to seeing Jesus when we read the scriptures detailing his suffering sort of love, and the new life that he brings.  Not only that, Jesus is present and active when his hands and feet, his people, share his good news and share his forgiveness with the world.

In a world that focuses on death, Jesus gives his people a Spirit that focuses on life.  In a world that seeks revenge, Jesus gives us a Spirit that focuses on forgiveness and second chances.  In a world that stared into the darkness, Jesus gives us a Spirit that stares at what the world could be: a place where we can walk together and work together with the Lord in the fruitful garden of peace.

Where the world sees darkness, Jesus sees light.  Where the world sees lost causes, Jesus sees second chances.  Where the world seeks death, Jesus brings new life.  Where the world sees failure, Jesus sees hope.  Come, see the Lord.  Come walk with the Lord.  Come and be a part of Jesus’ life of forgiveness and peace.

Reflection on John 20:19-31

 

John 20:19-31 (NRSV)

19When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” 20After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. 21Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” 22When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

24But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. 25So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

26A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” 27Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” 28Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” 29Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

30Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. 31But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name. 

Reflection

The resurrected Jesus steps right through our locked doors.  And, I am not just talking about actual doors here.  I am also talking about those doors of life that sometimes get slammed shut when we least expect, like the closed door of future opportunities, the closed door of long imagined dreams, the closed door of our heart, or the closed door to our very soul. 

People say all the time that when one door closes, another opens.  But, I like the joke: “When one door closes and another opens, it’s time to get a new car.” 

That is probably true, but it is my experience that one door closing often leads to other doors closing as well.  The door to the job closing causes the door between husband and wife to close, which closes the door to the dream home, and the future they had imagined together…and so on.  You get the picture.  You probably have lived the picture.

You see it happening right here, in the Gospel of John.  The door of Jesus’ tomb shuts, the stone covering the smell of death lingering inside, and this causes the fearful and grieving disciples to lock their doors as well.  The Bible says, “It was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews” (John 20:19a). 

The death of Jesus has caused the disciples to fear their own death at the hands of the religious leaders, it causes them to lock their own doors in the face of death, and it causes them to hide behind those doors in a type of living death, caused by their grief.  Quite the opposite of the used car where someone shuts a door and it opens another, this shut door causes another shut door.

This is what happens.  This is how life plays out.  A physical death causes an emotional death.  A physical sealing of the tomb causes an emotional sealing of a tomb…and sometimes the actual locking of a door, as in the case of the disciples.  It is human nature for us close our doors, sheltering ourselves from the piercing blows of life. 

There is no blame to be placed when this happens.  No one failed to smile enough.  No one failed to be upbeat enough.  No one lost hold of their bootstraps…most of us do not even have those things attached to our footwear anymore.  No one failed to have enough faith.  Closed doors cause more doors to close.  That is life.

But, in an act of pure concern and grace, the resurrected Jesus steps right through the locked door.  The Bible says that “Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’  After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side” (John 20:19b).

Once when I was in a painful struggle with grief and doubt, one of my college professors caught me in the hall outside the lunch room and said, “I noticed you aren’t as happy as you usually are.  Are you OK?”  I talked to him about the pain caused by my grandmother’s death.  I talked to him about my doubt-filled spiritual struggles caused by my grief, and how impossibly painful they were.  I spilled it all on the floor, and after a moment of silence he looked down at the pain soaked floor and said, “That same feeling caused the worst time in my entire life.” 

Urged by Jesus to show his own wounds, he stepped through my locked door and let me touch his wounds, exploring them, comparing them with my own, and eventually finding wisdom in them.  In his story I could see my own.  And, in his metaphorical resurrection, I could envision my own.  “This is rough, but it is not the last word in your life.  Jesus has a tendency to break out of closed tombs and walk through locked doors.”

“Peace be with you,” Jesus says to the disciples as he joins them in their locked room, sharing his wounds (John 20:19b).  And, peace comes.  So much so that they rejoice when they see the Lord!  They rejoice at his resurrection!  They rejoice that death and locked doors are not the last word. 

Jesus then breathes on them the new life that is found in the Holy Spirit.  He breathes on them a Spirit-filled life that encourages them to walk through locked doors themselves.  He breathes on them a Spirit-filled life that give them the power to throw people’s sin aside in forgiveness, allowing people to start fresh and new.  He breathes on them a Spirit-filled life that brings peace and hope to those whom the disciples encounter.

I want you to notice that in the next part of the story Jesus shows up again only after the disciples tell Thomas about the resurrected Jesus.  Thomas was not there the first time Jesus defied the logic of locked doors.  But, only a week after they excitedly share the good news of Jesus with Thomas (which just happens to be on a Sunday), Jesus steps through Thomas’ shut door as well.  Jesus steps through Thomas’ closed door that screamed “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”  Jesus steps right through the door of Thomas’ locked soul, giving Thomas some of that heavenly resurrection peace.

“My Lord and my God!” Thomas exclaims in response.

And, we want that too.  We want more than anything for Christ to step through the locked doors of our lives and the locked doors of our hearts with resurrection hope.  So, let us do something about it.  Let us pray for that very thing:

“Christ, we ask that you step through our locked doors also.  When our hearts are cold, step in with the warmth of your love.  When our hearts have lost the way, step in with the wisdom of your life.  When our hearts are full of sin, step in and wash them with your cleansing forgiveness.  When our hearts are in pain and are sealed off from love, step in and show us what divine love is all about.  When our hearts are alone, step in, be present with us, and show us your hands and feet.  When our hearts are broken, step in and heal them with the sealing of your resurrection power.  Step in through the locked doors of our neighbors as well.  Breathe in them the same breath of life.  Blow us into their lives with your heavenly love.  We put our total trust in you, Jesus Christ our resurrected Lord, in whose name we pray.  Amen.”