1 Corinthians 16:17 I was glad when Stephanas, Fortunatus and Achaicus arrived, because they have supplied what was lacking from you. 18 For they refreshed my spirit and yours also. Such men deserve recognition.

The Church has no formal awards program. We don’t give out Oscars, Emmys, Tonys, or Grammys. We don’t compete for best preacher, best supporting elder, or congregation of the year. The one whose approval we desire is waiting with our reward in heaven. Lutheran musical giant J.S. Bach inscribed each composition, “Soli Deo Gloria,” “To God Alone Be The Glory.” To the best of my knowledge, during his lifetime he never received an award.

That doesn’t mean that it is wrong to publicly acknowledge and recognize the contributions of time and effort that God’s people make to God’s work. Jesus publicly praised John the Baptist, the widow who gave God her last mite, and the Centurion who displayed such uncommon faith in him.

Likewise Paul felt that members of the Corinthian congregation like Stephanas, Fortunatus, and Achaicus deserved to be publicly recognized for their work in supporting his ministry. Such recognition not only encourages and affirms those who serve. It holds before the congregation good role models. It makes it possible to see the power of the Gospel in the lives of those who believe. It gives glory to God, the author of their gifts.

Every day Christian people serve in ways that deserves to be publicly recognized. Much of that service goes unnoticed because it is humbly offered when no one else is looking. We are thankful for the steady, faithful, quiet sacrifice of time and ability that makes it possible to preach, teach, and spread the Gospel.

The combined efforts of such people illustrate the truth that the church functions as one body with many parts. Together the contributions of so many refresh the spirits of others in the family of faith. Though not everyone may be publicly mentioned, the role each one plays in supporting the great mission of bringing God’s grace to the world is important.

Everything we have, and everything we can do, is a gift from God. This is no less true of the talents we put to work for the church than it is for cleansing blood of Jesus that saves us, or the Spirit-worked faith in our hearts that makes salvation our own. All is a gift. But now that we have received the gifts, our Lord invites us to put them to use. And when we do, we can expect him to say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” (Matthew 25:21).

Isaiah 51:2 “Look to Abraham, your father, and to Sarah, who gave you birth. When I called him he was but one, and I blessed him and made him many.”

Abraham had a hopeless situation on his hands.  He was already seventy-five years old when the Lord called him. He and Sarah were beyond the age for having children.  And their childlessness continued until they were in their nineties.  Yet, at an age when Abraham and Sarah could easily have been great-grandparents, along came baby Isaac. God gave Abraham and Sarah a child, and through him an entire nation of descendants.

Isaiah, writing over a thousand years later, reminded the people of his day, “Look to Abraham, your father, and to Sarah, who gave you birth. When I called him he was but one, and I blessed him and made him many” (Isaiah 51:2). No matter how bad the outlook seemed, God’s people were never beyond God’s power to change things, to help them, and to give them hope.

The Lord doesn’t want us to look back to the hopeless events of our past and despair.  He wants us to see promise and opportunity ahead of us. That confidence will not come from the world around us.  Wars stretch on and on. Scandals plague our government no matter who’s in charge. Powerful hurricanes and raging wild fires remind us that we are at their mercy no matter how much technology we have developed. We can’t expect our world to solve our problems when it cannot solve its own.

That confidence will not come from ourselves. There is one thing every one of my problems has in common:  me, and my sinful behavior, my sinful reactions, and my sinful perspective. When we realize this, then we know that confidence in ourselves is a false hope.

We have true hope because God promises us his care. We see his power to help Abraham, and his willingness to help Abraham, and we know our help comes from the Lord, too.  We can look back at a hundred other Bible characters the Lord helped. Doesn’t the very gospel of Christ’s suffering that saves us show us God’s power to turn the most hopeless-looking situation into great blessing and victory? The death of God on a cross is forgiveness and life for the world!

Our personal histories are sprinkled with evidence God still cares. At times things looked bad, but in the end the Lord saw us through.  The only gifts God gives us are good ones. The only needs the Lord supplies are all of them. God invites us to look to the past, and see that he promises to take care of us now and in the future.

We often hear people talk about seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. We can bear the pain if only the end of it all is in view.  But for you and me, the light is always on at the end of the tunnel. The end is always in view, because we know it all ends in heaven with joy and gladness and thanksgiving and the sound of singing. It is the ultimate gift of God’s care.

That gives us hope as we face the many threats of this present moment.

1 Corinthians 15:17-20 “And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men. But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.”

Just about everybody knows the story of George Bailey in It’s A Wonderful Life. As he contemplates suicide, an angel appears. He lets George see what kind of place the world would be if he never existed. The results are eye-opening. His brother dies in childhood because George isn’t there to save him. That, in turn leads to the death of many soldiers in World War II, because his brother isn’t there to rescue them. His wife leads a sad, isolated, lonely life. His entire hometown is dominated by the evil banker, Mr. Potter. George Bailey’s savings and loan wasn’t there to keep him in check. You know the story.

Paul presents a similar situation to us in 1 Corinthians 15. This time the question is, “What if Jesus never came back to life after he died?” “What if Jesus were not alive today?” The results are infinitely more frightening. All Christian ministry and preaching would be useless. Faith would be nothing more than a cruel deception. We would still be responsible, still guilty, for every sin we have ever committed. There would be no hope of forgiveness. When our loved ones die, we would have no hope of seeing them again, except to see them tortured with us in Hell. You know the story.

Thankfully, Jesus’ resurrection from the dead is not just the happy ending to a sentimental movie that makes us feel good at the holidays. It is a fact of history. It is a solid foundation for our faith. It is the clear vindication and crowning glory of Jesus’ life and ministry. The ramifications of that one event in Jesus’ life continue to spill over into every corner of our lives every day.

The glorious new life and reign of King Jesus is the truest source of hope for battered believers who live every day in the domain of death. Every day futile struggles, failing health, and fading powers remind us the light is dimming in our own lives. Death is waiting to take us. But the glory of Jesus’ resurrection keeps hope alive. It gives a different vision of how life will end: a vision that, in fact, life will not end with death. Life after death is not a popular wish or a fanciful fairy tale. Jesus’ resurrection is visible proof. It confirms that it’s done and explains how it’s done. Five hundred witnesses saw this man alive again. There is no hidden grave, no decaying body. Jesus Christ is exhibit A, the evidence, the proof, that we, too, will live again.

The glorious new life and reign of King Jesus is the truest source of comfort for frustrated followers and despondent disciples who don’t feel victorious and don’t appear prosperous as they wait for the new life to come. Jesus reigns, and “he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet.” Jesus Christ is in control, even over the illnesses that afflict me, the people that persecute me, and the circumstances that overwhelm me. His powerful yet loving hands continue to set the limits on every challenge that confronts me. He assures me that in all things he works for the good of those who love him. Every event in life must end in my good and his glory.

The resurrection of the dead is not a piece of shopworn theology with little relevance for our lives every day. It is not the exclusive concern of the senior citizens among us. It is the true hope and comfort in every circumstance for every Christian from the cradle to the grave. And it is the glory of our risen King.

Luke 9:52-53 “He sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; but the people did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem.”

I have been wearing eye-glasses since I was in the seventh grade, so maybe this is an experience you can relate to only if you wear glasses: you ask, “Has anyone seen my glasses?” and someone else responds, “You’re wearing them.” I remember a similar incident in a college Greek class. My professor was holding his Greek text in his hand and asking, “Did anyone see where I put my book down?”

Sometimes things become so much a part of us that we don’t realize that they are there anymore. I have been looking at the world through glass lenses for so long that I forget they are perched on top of my nose.

Something similar can happen to our spiritual eyesight over time. Many of us have been looking at Jesus and looking at his word through the eyes of faith for so long that we can’t remember what it was like to look at him without that faith bringing things into focus. Faith has been part of our lives for so long that, in a sense, we forget it’s there, and that without it we could not see.

So it is that we are befuddled by our Jewish friend who can read the same words in Isaiah 53 as we do, words which describe Jesus’ suffering and death so clearly, to our way of thinking. But somehow he just doesn’t see it. Why doesn’t he get it? There is that neighbor or family member that we have been witnessing to for years. They seem to carry such misery around with them. So many of their problems are self-imposed. Maybe they have even accompanied us to church once or twice. Why can’t they see that Jesus is what they need?

The problem is they aren’t looking through the miraculous lenses that allow us to see Jesus as he really is. The problem is that so much of who Jesus is lies hidden behind a very plain and ordinary human exterior.

It was no different when Jesus visibly walked through the streets of Galilee, Samaria, and Judea. The King and Creator of the Universe lived here incognito. The Samaritans could not see his divinity or his charity. All they could see was his nationality. Jesus was too human and too Jewish for them to welcome. And so they passed on the chance to host the single most powerful, most important, and most giving and gracious person in world history.

Even after the Spirit has fitted us with faith-tinted lenses, we have trouble making Jesus out. He doesn’t fit our expectations for heavenly royalty. We expect more as members of his court. Shouldn’t friends of the crown, even members of the royal family like us, find richer, easier, more trouble-free lives in this world? Shouldn’t they be given a little slack when it comes to the urgency of the work of God’s kingdom? Shouldn’t they receive more privileges, and more accommodation, when it comes to their earthly needs, and their earthly relationships?

But the Jesus who makes everything in life more comfortable, who makes every human relationship happier, is a false god who exists only the minds of those who can’t see the real thing. Following the real Jesus means a life of self-denial, and taking up your cross, not a life of self-indulgence on earth. Following Jesus means a life that often turns a man against his father and a daughter against her mother. A man’s enemies will be the members of his own household. Those are his own words. Following the imaginary Jesus of ease and comfort and heaven-on-earth is a sin for which he calls us to repent.

The loving and gracious Savior who promises rest for the weary may be hard to see in the suffering Jesus whose followers suffer with him on earth. But hidden in Jesus’ own suffering is the unconditional love and unlimited forgiveness we seek. And hidden beyond our own suffering is a real heaven, not an earthly counterfeit. Jesus will reveal it at the proper time to those who continue to fix their eyes on him in faith. May Jesus himself continue to fix our focus.

Matthew 15:8 “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.”

The sainted John Jeske used to point out the beauty and pitfalls of our ability to do things by rote. When you put your shoes on this morning, you might have tied them while talking to your spouse or your children, or listening to the radio, and never even thought about what you were doing. This ability is a wonderful feature of the way God created us. When we do the same thing over and over again, eventually we can do it without even thinking about it. It becomes automatic. It frees our mind up for other, more important things.

That’s wonderful until it comes to our worship. Then this “automatic pilot” feature doesn’t serve us so well. We find ourselves mumbling through the Lord’s Prayer or the Apostle’s Creed or the Confession of Sins on Sunday morning automatically. We don’t even think about them. We become guilty of what Jesus warned about: “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.”

What is the problem here?

We might be tempted to blame God for making us this way, but we know that it is wrong to accuse God of evil. God is good to us, and his gifts are good. We are the ones who sometimes misuse them.

People often blame the repetition that takes place in our worship. Maybe if we didn’t always use the same old order and the same old forms, we wouldn’t fall into the trap of not thinking about what we are saying.

But is the problem really with using the Lord’s Prayer? Aren’t these words that Jesus taught us to use in our prayers? And is there really something wrong with the Apostles Creed? Doesn’t it simply summarize the main truths of our Christian faith and confess the Gospel of salvation?

The words of Jesus’ warning place the blame where it belongs–on the human heart. When we come to worship genuinely sorry for our sins, convicted of offending God, convinced that we need Jesus, then these words will not seem boring or lifeless, no matter how many times we have used them. The words of our worship rites and rituals preach God’s grace, which is the antidote for death. And people desperate for the antidote to death are glad to hear them.

We can even learn to appreciate the repetition. C.S. Lewis once said that worship is a little like dancing. It helps to know the order, the form well to really enjoy it, to concentrate on the content without distraction. “As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not dancing, but only learning to dance.” Likewise, in worship, as long as you are always thinking about what is coming next, trying to figure out the tune, concentrating on saying the words right, you aren’t worshiping so much as you are learning how to use these words to worship.

From time to time there will be change in worship forms. God continues to bless his church with people who have the skills to write music and words that proclaim forgiveness and eternal life.  Even J.S. Bach, even David and the other psalmists, were introducing something new to worship when they first put pen to paper. But the real change in worship needs to come from our own hearts, and the Gospel of a God who died and rose to save us can lead us to “regard it as holy and gladly hear and learn it.”

John 2:14-16  “In the temple courts he found men selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money.  So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, ‘Get these out of here! How dare you turn my Father’s house into a market!'”

The issue for Jesus was not that these men were selling cattle and sheep and doves.  Like modern day America, Israel had become a very urban nation.  Many people lived in cities instead of farms.  They needed to get animals for the sacrifices at the temple in some way. God demanded it. Many people at the Passover came from hundreds of miles away. They couldn’t just throw a cow or sheep in the back of the chariot and drive to Jerusalem.  The men who sold animals for sacrifices were providing a necessary service.

The same was true of the moneychangers. People came to Passover from all over the world. Because most foreign coins had pictures of foreign gods and inscriptions praising them, few of them were considered proper for use at the temple. The money changers made it possible for these people to bring an offering to God.

The reason Jesus became so angry was not the business, but the location. All these things had become an obstacle to worship in the temple. Imagine trying to worship and pray while people are shouting, “Pigeons, two for a dollar!” “Best deal on sheep in town right here!” “Get your Shekels! Get your drachmas!” It didn’t make for a reverent, meditative atmosphere. The people’s minds were drawn away from their heavenly Father.

We don’t have problems with animals and salesman disrupting our worship services. But you and I still have distractions to remove. Some churches have been known to turn the pulpit over to a politician on Sunday. Rarely does the focus remain on Christ, then. Sunday service is not the time to be reading the bulletin announcements or the material from your church mailbox.

Then there is another place of worship that concerns us. Each of us is God’s living temple. We fill our lives with hundreds of distractions to worshiping and serving him: hobbies, careers, entertainment, civic involvement, responsibilities at home, personal projects.  Most of them aren’t sinful. All of them can draw our attention away from God.

In the Jerusalem temple, Jesus dramatically removed the distractions. There was no way to be quiet and discreet about driving out the animals and pouring out the change. But if this grabbed the attention of everyone else, then he accomplished his purpose. After all, Jesus is where attention belongs when God’s people gather for worship.

Jesus has overcome the distractions in our worship life, too. He doesn’t come to each of us physically and drive them away. He overcame them with his own focused praise. This cleansing of the temple in Jerusalem didn’t last. Three years later, the week of his death and resurrection, he had to do it again (Luke 19:45-46). But by cleansing the temple, Jesus was also offering God the heart-felt service and worship his Father in heaven is looking for. This incident reminded the disciples of the passage, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” Jesus provided God with the worship he wants, and he did that for us, as our substitute. We have been guilty of giving in to distraction, but Jesus’ was totally devoted to his Father in everything he did.  His every move was an act of worship. That’s why God doesn’t see us as tuned-out hypocrites going through the motions of worship. In Jesus God gets the worship he seeks from us. In Jesus we are the zealous worshipers acceptable to God.

That’s good news that begs for our attention!

1 Thessalonians 1:5b-7 “You know how we lived among you for your sake. You became imitators of us and of the Lord; in spite of severe suffering, you welcomed the message with the joy given by the Holy Spirit. And so you became a model to all the believers in Macedonia and Achaia. The Lord’s message rang out from you not only in Macedonia and Achaia– your faith in God has become known everywhere.”

There is something different about Christian joy. Worldly joy comes in the context of some great success or benefit. Your team wins the championship. Your wife has a baby. Your lottery ticket matches all the numbers on the TV screen. Your dear one survives the surgery and recovers. Your application is accepted.

But look at the context of the joy Paul describes. “You became imitators of us and of the Lord; in spite of severe suffering you welcomed the message with joy.” When we are suffering severely, we are like Jesus, and we are like Paul, aren’t we. Maybe we forget that about being “Christ-like” sometimes. No student is above his master. It is enough for the student to be like his master (See Matthew 10:24-25). Jesus suffered. So did Paul. If we are like Jesus, so will we.

But that does not squelch Christian joy. Christian joy isn’t joy in our circumstances. We are aliens in a foreign land (Hebrews 11). It isn’t joy in our accomplishments. Like Paul, we consider them all rubbish or dung (Philippians 2). It isn’t joy in our possessions. They are subject to rust, and moths, and thieves (Matthew 6). It isn’t joy in our relationships. With Jesus, a man’s enemies are often the members of his own household (Matthew 10).

Christian joy is joy in the gospel message we have been given: Heaven is my home, Jesus won my victory, Forgiveness is my possession; and God is my dear Father, Jesus my dear Brother–the family who loves me without conditions and without limits. That joy never goes away, and no one can ever take it from you and me.

That joy also makes our faith infectious. “And so you became a model to all the believers in Macedonia and Achaia. The Lord’s message rang out from you not only in Macedonia and Achaia– your faith in God has become known everywhere.”

Some place in his book Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis has a chapter entitled, “The Good Infection.” “Good things as well as bad,” he tells us, “are caught by a kind of infection. If you want to get warm you must stand near the fire: if you want to be wet you must get into the water. If you want joy, power, peace, eternal life, you must get close to, or even into, the thing that has them.” The thing that has them, he tells us, is the Holy Spirit, as Paul has also made clear to these Thessalonians. The way that we get close to the Holy Spirit, and he gets into us, is through the message of God’s Word that gives us joy.

Our joy in that message helps to make our faith contagious. We become models whom others want to imitate. We attract attention to the difference God’s Word makes in a believer’s life. Through the Word some can catch the good infection from us, and they in turn can pass it on to others. The influence of our joy and faith is then felt in places far from where we first lived and shared it.

Christianity is not an easy faith. But it isn’t a gloomy one either. Catch the joy.  Then pass it on.

1 Thessalonians 1:2-5 “We always thank God for all of you, mentioning you in our prayers. We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. For we know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not simply with words, but also with power, with the Holy Spirit and with deep conviction.”

Why did Paul offer such thanksgiving and prayer when he thought about these Christians in Thessalonica? He was moved by three evidences that the gospel was working in their lives. First, we hear a whir of activity. “We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith.” Good works may not belong to the equation of salvation. But they are still an indispensable evidence that saving faith is genuine. This is not that restless, driven kind of religious busyness produced by feelings of guilt, or fear of the law, or insecurity about what God or others think about me. These flow from faith like water from a spring. These grow on faith like fruit on a tree.

The next thing we hear is a sigh of weariness. “We remember…your labor prompted by love.” Labor here is not exactly the same thing as work. Labor refers to the kind of hard and tiring activity that sometimes is full of frustration and disappointment. You know what I am talking about? We toil away at some church program only to see it flop. We make sacrifices to help others only to find that we are being taken advantage of. We suffer through personality conflicts, poor decision making, and inept, uninspired service because we are trying to get God’s work done.

Genuine Christian service is not always “fun,” or necessarily even “fulfilling.” Sometimes it may hurt. That does not mean it is not valuable. That certainly should not be used as excuse to bail out or sit on the sidelines. Paul simply offers a realistic view of service in God’s kingdom. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes we’re guilty of making it hard for others.

Who wants to volunteer for that? What could move us to subject ourselves to that kind of experience? This, Paul says, is “labor prompted by love.” We must keep someone else in mind when we get our hands dirty and faces sweaty in the hard labor of God’s kingdom. Love for the Lord who so loves us, love for the lost souls around us, and love for the dear children of God with whom we serve prompt us to labor on.

Paul’s third evidence even exposes us to groans of suffering. “We remember…your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.” Some promote the idea that Christianity makes everything in your life suddenly wonderful. The Thessalonians knew that it gave you just as much need for patient endurance. The plain teachings of Scripture invite rejection, even persecution, from the people around us. It can cost us friends. It can cost us respect. It can put us in danger. It can make us the targets of attack.

But we don’t endure all this for nothing. We are inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. Have you ever seen news stories of people camped out in front of the ticket office when some popular show or sporting event is coming to town? Reporters go through the line and interview people about how long they have been camped out and how hard it has been to endure the elements to keep their place. But you don’t ever hear of anyone going through the ordeal without expecting something at the end. People don’t wait in that line in the cold just for the experience. They hope to hold a ticket in their hands at the end.

When our convictions lead us to endure insults, accusations, and maybe even physical abuse for our Lord Jesus, we don’t do so for nothing. We have hope. We have certainty that we will be holding something in our hands at the end: the ticket to get us through the gates of heaven, the deed to our own heavenly home.

Where, then, does such conviction come from? Listen to Paul again, “For we know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not simply with words, but also with power, with the Holy Spirit, and with deep conviction.” Do you hear the strains of love? The gospel is not just a collection of nice-sounding, religious words. It is more than information about the way to heaven. It is the powerful, creative message by which the Holy Spirit works a miracle change in our hearts. Through it he convinces us the things Paul says about us here are true.

We are loved by God. How could it be any other way if he still wants us as his own, fully aware of all our sins? How could it be any other way if he was willing to sacrifice his only Son to remove our sins and purify us for himself?

He has chosen you. Do you hear the welcome of an adoptive family? Our place in God’s family is not due to natural forces beyond his control. He specifically sought us and chose us. He directed all of human history to make sure that your sins were paid for, and you heard the gospel, and you were brought to faith, and you could be certain that God had made you his own and surrounded you with a loving family of brothers and sisters.

That’s the powerful gospel we have believed. That’s the powerful difference it makes.

1 John 4:19 “We love, because he first loved us.”

When  children get into a fight of some sort, they often defend their actions by objecting, “He started it.” Somehow, we have the idea as children that this makes our actions defensible. Of course, that way of thinking doesn’t disappear when we become adults, does it. When others treat us badly, that motivates us to respond in kind.

“We love, because he first loved us” is more than a holier and godlier version of “he started it.” God’s love for us doesn’t get us to love purely by winning our appreciation and good will. It is more than “he was nice to me, so I’ll be nice to him.”

Nor does God’s love lay it on thick with a guilt trip or a sense of obligation. God is not like Danny Kaye in the movie White Christmas. Are you familiar with my analogy? Every time Danny Kaye wanted to get Bing Crosby to do something in the movie, he would rub his arm. That was a reminder of how he once risked his life and injured himself to save Bing Crosby’s life when they were soldiers in World War II. It was a classic guilt trip. That’s not how God gets us to love. He doesn’t show us the cross, or Jesus’ wounded body, to make us feel guilty and manipulate a response.

No, God’s love works more by transformation. When we are at home in the grace and forgiveness of God, and the gospel saturates our lives, then that love begins working wonderful changes inside of us. By faith we become more loving people. God and his love actually take up residence in our hearts. They start expressing themselves through our mouths and through our hands. As the Apostle Paul told the Philippians, “It is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose” (2:13). That’s the kind of love that would not be possible for us if God had not first loved us at Jesus’ manger, his cross, his empty tomb, and now his heavenly throne.

That love not only leads us to love God. It leads us to love the other members of his family. It’s not so easy to show your love directly to someone you can’t see or touch. There are only so many things we can do. God doesn’t need anything from us. After we worship him and pray to him, after he has first place in our hearts, our options for showing him our love are limited.

But there are all kinds of ways we can show love to the people he has put around us. They are the ones who really need our love. In the last verse of this chapter John urges, “Whoever loves God must also love his brother.” This is how God wants us to love him: by finding a person who really needs our love and taking care of what he needs. Tell him about his Savior. Help her with her bills. Volunteer for the relief efforts that will clean up their storm-ravaged neighborhood. Give them a hand with the things they can’t do for themselves.

That means the really difficult people, too. God loves the world. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. If God loves difficult people like you and me (and he does), that love won’t work any differently when it is working through you and me. So long as his love is finding a place in our hearts, it will lead us to love them all.