Wash Away Sins Quotes

Black for hunting through the night For death and mourning the color's white Gold for a bride in her wedding gown And red to call the enchantment down White silk when our bodies burn Blue banners when the lost return Flame for the birth of a Nephilim And to wash away our sins. Gray for the knowledge best untold Bone for those who don't grow old Saffron lights the victory march Green to mend our broken hearts Silver for the demon towers And bronze to summon wicked powers -Shadowhunter children's rhyme

Our Savior kneels down and gazes upon the darkest acts of our lives. But rather than recoil in horror, he reaches out in kindness and says, "I can clean that if you want." And from the basin of his grace, he scoops a palm full of mercy and washes away our sin.

Christianity happens when men and women accept with unwavering trust that their sins have been not only forgiven, but forgotten, washed away in the blood of the Lamb. Thus, my friend archbishop Joe Reia says, "A sad Christian is a phony Christian, and a guilty Christian is no Christian at all.

Absolution is the washing away of sin. The promise of rebirth. And the chance to escape the transgressions of those who came before us. The best among us will learn from the mistakes of the past, while the rest seem doomed to repeat them. And then there are those who operate on the fringes of society, unburdened by the confines of morality and conscience. A ruthless breed of monsters whose deadliest weapon is their ability to hide in plain sight. If the people I've come to bring justice to cannot be bound by the quest for absolution, then neither will I.

As the floods of God Wash away sin city They say it was written In the page of the Lord But I was looking For that great jazz note That destroyed The walls of Jericho The winds of fear Whip away the sickness The messages on the tablet Was valium As the planets form That golden cross Lord I'll see you on The holy cross roads After all this time To believe in Jesus After all those drugs I thought I was Him After all my lying And a-crying And my suffering I ain't good enough I ain't clean enough To be Him The tribal wars Burning up the homeland The fuel of evil Is raining from the sky The sea of lava Flowing down the mountain The time will sleep Us sinners by Holy rollers roll Give generously now Pass the hubcap please Thank you Lord

It was at a church service in Munich that I saw him, a former S.S. man who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing center at Ravensbruck. He was the first of our actual jailers that I had seen since that time. And suddenly it was all there – the roomful of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, Betsie's pain-blanched face. He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing. “How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein.” He said. “To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!” His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often to the people in Bloemendaal the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side. Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him. I tried to smile, I struggles to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I prayed, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness. As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me. And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world's healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself.

faith doesn't mean that you don't have doubts... [you] still experience the same greed, resentment, lust, and anger that everyone else experienced... the lines between sinner and saved [are] more fluid; the sins of those who come to church are not so different from the sins of those who don't... You [need] to come to church precisely because you [are] of this world, not apart from it; rich, poor, sinner, saved you [need] to embrace Christ precisely because you had sins to wash away... that religious commitment did not require me to suspend critical thinking, disengage from the battle for economic and social justice, or otherwise retreat from the world...

It made me shiver. And I about made up my mind to pray, and see if I couldn't try to quit being the kind of a boy I was and be better. So I kneeled down. But the words wouldn't come. Why wouldn't they? It warn't no use to try and hide it from Him. Nor from ME, neither. I knowed very well why they wouldn't come. It was because my heart warn't right; it was because I warn't square; it was because I was playing double. I was letting ON to give up sin, but away inside of me I was holding on to the biggest one of all. I was trying to make my mouth SAY I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to that nigger's owner and tell where he was; but deep down in me I knowed it was a lie, and He knowed it. You can't pray a lie--I found that out. So I was full of trouble, full as I could be; and didn't know what to do. At last I had an idea; and I says, I'll go and write the letter--and then see if I can pray. Why, it was astonishing, the way I felt as light as a feather right straight off, and my troubles all gone. So I got a piece of paper and a pencil, all glad and excited, and set down and wrote: Miss Watson, your runaway nigger Jim is down here two mile below Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has got him and he will give him up for the reward if you send. HUCK FINN. I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever felt so in my life, and I knowed I could pray now. But I didn't do it straight off, but laid the paper down and set there thinking--thinking how good it was all this happened so, and how near I come to being lost and going to hell. And went on thinking. And got to thinking over our trip down the river; and I see Jim before me all the time: in the day and in the night-time, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we a-floating along, talking and singing and laughing. But somehow I couldn't seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the other kind. I'd see him standing my watch on top of his'n, 'stead of calling me, so I could go on sleeping; and see him how glad he was when I come back out of the fog; and when I come to him again in the swamp, up there where the feud was; and such-like times; and would always call me honey, and pet me and do everything he could think of for me, and how good he always was; and at last I struck the time I saved him by telling the men we had small-pox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the ONLY one he's got now; and then I happened to look around and see that paper. It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a-trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself: "All right, then, I'll GO to hell"--and tore it up.

All parents wash away their sins with their tears; you are not the only one.

Mother used to say if you stood out in a rain like that; it would wash away your sins-

The purifications were nice, but they were just water, and didn't wash away sins; they didn't cure the mental thirst or allay his heart's anxiety.

Dear God, master of the universe, compassionate and merciful: we who are steeped in sin, kneel in supplication before your throne and beseech you to recall from this world Saadat Hasan Manto, son of Ghulam Hasan Manto, who was a man of great piety. Take him away, Lord, for he runs away from fragrance and chases after filth. He hates the bright sun, preferring dark labyrinths. He has nothing but contempt for modesty but is fascinated by the naked and the shameless. He hates sweetness, but will give his life to taste bitter fruit. He will not so much as look at housewives but is in seventh heaven in the company of whores. He will not go near running waters, but loves to wade through filth. Where others weep, he laughs; and where others laugh, he weeps. Faces blackened by evil, he loves to wash with tender care to make visible their real features. He never thinks about you but follows Satan everywhere, the same fallen angel who once disobeyed you.

You pray for forgiveness. You pray for it to stop, for life, and even death. You pray for rain to wash away your sins and drown your soul. Till you finally just stop asking. Cause nobodies listening.

The sighing of the devotee clears a path for him into the world unseen, and his tears wash away the sins of ages. All revelation follows the ecstasy; all knowledge that a book can never contain, that a language can never express, nor a teacher teach, comes to him of itself.

Jesus entered the temple area and revealed that he was the perfect and final priest; even more, he was the entire temple. All the temple symbols suddenly came to life. He was the wash basin, the Water of Life. He was the bread of the Presence, the Bread of Life. He was the candlesticks, the Light of the World. He was the perfect priest, the Great High Priest who would offer the sacrifice, and he was the sacrifice itself, “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29). Everything in the Old Testament temple was gathered together and fulfilled in Jesus.

Nothing but the infinite can ever satisfy me; I am such a great sinner that I must have infinite merit to wash my sin away;" but we have had our sin removed, and found that there was merit to spare; we have had our hunger relieved at the feast of sacred love

the only way to wash away your sins is by feeling guilty..

Don’t come early in the morning Neither in the heat of the day But come in the sweet cool of the Evening and wash my sins away

We don’t have to remain in the filth of yesterday. Jesus didn’t die for the spiritually clean; He died for those who reek with sin. What’s the purpose of His blood if not to wash away our yesterday?

Love one another, fathers," the elder taught (as far as Alyosha could recall afterwards). "Love God's people. For we are not holier than those in the world because we have come here and shut ourselves within these walls, but, on the contrary, anyone who comes here, by the very fact that he has come, already knows himself to be worse than all those who are in the world, worse than all on earth...And the longer a monk lives within his walls, the more keenly he must be aware of it. For otherwise he had no reason to come here. But when he knows that he is not only worse than all those in the world, but is also guilty before all people, on behalf of all and for all, for all human sins, the world's and each person's, only then will the goal of our unity be achieved. For you must know, my dear ones, that each of us is undoubtedly guilty on behalf of all and for all on earth, not only because of the common guilt of the world, but personally, each one of us, for all people and for each person on this earth. This knowledge is the crown of the monk's path, and of every man's path on earth. For monks are not a different sort of men, but only such as all men on earth ought also to be. Only then will our hearts be moved to a love that is infinite, universal, and that knows no satiety. Then each of us will be able to gain the whole world by love and wash away the world's sins with his tears...Let each of you keep close company with his heart, let each of you confess to himself untiringly. Do not be afraid of your sin, even when you perceive it, provided you are repentant, but do not place conditions on God. Again I say, do not be proud. Do not be proud before the lowly, do not be proud before the great either. And do not hate those who reject you, disgrace you, revile you, and slander you. Do not hate atheists, teachers of evil, materialists, not even those among them who are wicked, nor those who are good, for many of them are good, especially in our time. Remember them thus in your prayers: save, Lord, those whom there is no one to pray for, save also those who do not want to pray to you. And add at once: it is not in my pride that I pray for it, Lord, for I myself am more vile than all...Love God's people, do not let newcomers draw your flock away, for if in your laziness and disdainful pride, in your self-interest most of all, you fall asleep, they will come from all sides and lead your flock away. Teach the Gospel to the people untiringly...Do not engage in usury...Do not love silver and gold, do not keep it...Believe, and hold fast to the banner. Raise it high...

In every step, in every breath of yours, you’ll feel me… I will always be in every sight you see, in ever voice you hear… Your ears will be always filled with my whispers, my laughter and my cries… My fights and tantrums will never leave your mind… My footsteps, my shadow, will haunt you in every corner you go… I will be your mornings, your days and nights… I am the breeze that wraps your body in the morning… I am the moonlight that bathes your body at night… I am the fire that will burn you. I am the storm that you cannot handle… I am the rain that will wash away the dust from your soul… I am in your reflection. I am your shadow… Your heart whispers my name in every beat… Every word you say, echoes my name… I am the secret you want to hide, but the secret that the world knows… I am your dream… I am your nightmare… I am your darkest sin... I am you…

She was called Maria. She was a Maria Magdalena who washed away sins, and she was Venus Anadyomene to me, though she was ill-nourished I think since birth, my artist’s eye saw she was puny, though my lover’s eye saw her breasts as globes of milky marble, and the tuft between her legs as the bushes surrounding the gate to Paradise Lost—and Regained.

Our world is in turmoil. It is aging toward senility. It is very ill. Long ago it was born with brilliant prospects. It was baptized by water, and its sins were washed away. It was never baptized by fire, for that is still to come. It has had shorter periods of good health, but longer ones of ailing. Most of the time there have been pains and aches in some parts of its anatomy, but now that it is growing old, complications have set in, and all the ailments seem to be everywhere. The world has been ‘cliniced,’ and the complex diseases have been catalogued. The physicians have had summit consultations, and temporary salve has been rubbed on afflicted parts, but it has only postponed the fatal day and never cured it. It seems that while remedies have been applied, staph infection has set in, and the patient’s suffering intensified. His mind is wandering. It cannot remember its previous illnesses nor the cure which was applied. The political physicians through the ages have rejected suggested remedies as unprofessional since they came from lowly prophets. Man being what he is with tendencies such as he has, results can be prognosticated with some degree of accuracy.

Violet 232 books | 49 friends see comment history Black for hunting through the night For death and mourning the color’s white Gold for a bride in her wedding gown And red to call enchantment down. White silk when our bodies burn, Blue banners when the lost return. Flame for the birth of a Nephilim, And to wash away our sins. Gray for knowledge best untold, Bone for those who don’t grow old. Saffron lights the victory march, Green will mend our broken hearts. Silver for the demon towers, And bronze to summon wicked powers.

Atonement theology assumes that we were created in some kind of original perfection. We now know that life has emerged from a single cell that evolved into self-conscious complexity over billions of years. There was no original perfection. If there was no original perfection, then there could never have been a fall from perfection. If there was no fall, then there is no such thing as “original sin” and thus no need for the waters of baptism to wash our sins away. If there was no fall into sin, then there is also no need to be rescued. How can one be rescued from a fall that never happened? How can one be restored to a status of perfection that he or she never possessed? So most of our Christology today is bankrupt. Many popular titles that we have applied to Jesus, such as “savior,” “redeemer,” and “rescuer,” no longer make sense, because they assume

What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.”2

Drink became a sort of religion that washed away their sins, as likely to bring chaos as communion.

I washed it down with more wine and let the warmth eat away at my shame.

And because circumstances rarely match, and one afternoon can be a patchwork of both joy and horror, the taste of the soup washed through me

DELUGE, n. A notable first experiment in baptism which washed away the sins (and sinners) of the world.

Despite the perturbations of the world, life goes on. The sky presents an endless canopy of translucent blue. The still air is suffused with sunshine. Perhaps tomorrow the beneficent clouds will gather and it will finally rain. The earth will cool and revive and in that seminal moment all our sins perchance will be washed away. It might happen. But somehow I doubt it.

ACT22.15 For thou shalt be his witness unto all men of what thou hast seen and heard. ACT22.16 And now why tarriest thou? arise, and be baptized, and wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord.

When you cry out to God for forgiveness, he doesn’t remember your sins. They are gone. Forgiven. Washed away. And forgotten. In the same way that the coal removed Isaiah’s guilt and sin, the blood of Jesus takes away ours.

Jesus loves me! He who dead heaven's gate to open wide; He will wash away my sin, let His little child come in. Jesus loves me! He will stay close beside me all the way; if I love Him when I die He will take me home on high.

The wave of temptation may even wash you higher up upon the Rock of ages, so that you cling to it with a firmer grip than you have ever done before, and so again where sin abounds, grace will much more abound.” 7 C. H. Spurgeon

eyes open to this precious land and its people, to the covenant of water, water that washes away the sins of the world, water that will gather in streams, ponds, and rivers, rivers that float the seas, water that I will never enter.

When you must have permission to do something you know is right and you have good reason to believe that the officer with the power to give you such permission is going to say ‘Hell, no,’ do it anyway, as success washes away all sins.

Not all the blood of beasts, On Jewish altars slain, Could give the guilty conscience peace, Or wash away the stain. But Christ the heavenly Lamb, Takes all our sins away; A sacrifice of nobler name And richer blood than they. (Isaac Watts)

Do you hear me? Is it ever time for you to understand. I meant I meant that for I never thought you could think you were low. Were lost at the moment when they cut you off. Cut your head out heart brain. It is not I know was not that but to me it was to me. Like I could have seen you in the bright of day. Like the light could have come up from the sea and take you over. Me over. Is there. Forgive that. Forgive that me that I was fallen down. That I was under the weather under the same sky and did not. Not yet. If I took. If I had taken your good right hand I might have pulled you. Up. Pulled the black sea out of us. Saw you. Left you. Is there some truth in that? I went out to the cold. Thought I'd know what to do. Bring you with me. Bring you with. Sad and sad and sad fool me slipping down. Slope hill mountainside. Muck and stones on me. On my feet and rain in my hair. I thought about it but I could not stop. Pushed it further in. Needle and syringe. This will take me out of that. Like it could. As though it might do in any way. Forgive me. Forgive me that that I didn't see. Look out my eyes. That I didn't know what I was doing though I did though I did. Oh do you love me. Can you love me. Do you love me still. My sins. My grievous. Woe my wrong. I went out to him and said do what you will if you want. If you're able will you save me from that. I put a pillow on my face on your face and I said suffocate. It could have been. It could have been that. If I chose if I didn't. If I knew what to do. I don't so by the way I'm telling you. I'm warning now what a monster I have become. Soap in my mouth my eyes my hair turning bitter at the smallest drop. Of the rain give me the rain and all that. Wash oh yes wash that's it wash away. My. Sin.

And yet,’ he went on, ‘who talks about forgiveness these days, other than the people who come to this place, or to places like this? What politician, what public person, do we hear standing up and saying that we must forgive? The message we are more likely to hear is one of blame, of how this person or that person must be held to account for something bad that has happened. It is a message of retribution – that is all it is – a message of pure retribution, sometimes dressed up in concern about victims and public safety and matters of that sort. But if you do not forgive, and you think all the time about getting even, or punishing somebody who has done you a wrong, what are you achieving? You are not going to make that person better by hating or punishing him; oh no, that will not happen. When we punish somebody, we are often just punishing ourselves, you know. If people lock others away, they are simply increasing the amount of suffering there is in the world; they may think they are diminishing it, but they are not. They are adding to the burden that suffering creates. Of course, sometimes you have no alternative but to do it – people must be protected from harm – but you should always remember that there are other ways of changing a man’s ways. ‘My brothers and sisters: do not be afraid to profess forgiveness. Do not be afraid to tell people who urge you to seek retribution or revenge that there is no place for any of that in your heart. Do not be embarrassed to say that you believe in love, and that you believe that water can wash away the sins of the world, and that you are prepared to put this message of forgiveness right at the heart of your world. My brothers and sisters, do not be afraid to say any of this, even if people laugh at you, or say that you are old-fashioned, or foolish, or that you believe things that cannot be believed. Do not worry about any of that – because love and forgiveness are more powerful than any of those cynical, mocking words and will always be so. Always.

Black for hunting through the night For death and mourning the color’s white Gold for a bride in her wedding gown And red to call enchantment down. White silk when our bodies burn, Blue banners when the lost return. Flame for the birth of a Nephilim, And to wash away our sins. Gray for knowledge best untold, Bone for those who don’t grow old. Saffron lights the victory march, Green will mend our broken hearts. Silver for the demon towers, And bronze to summon wicked powers. —Old Nephilim children’s rhyme

Not only was Messiah born in the same location as the temple offering, but He was also washed in salt as part of the swaddling process, which points to His future sacrifice as the Passover Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world and inaugurate the new covenant (Jeremiah 31:31).

Baptism is the sacramental doorway into the Church established by Jesus Christ. It removes our innate condition of original sin, washes away all actual sin and their effects, infuses sanctifying grace, illuminates with God’s own presence, and incorporates the one baptized into the Body of Christ.

Shubha let me sleep for a few moments in your violent silvery uterus Give me peace, Shubha, let me have peace Let my sin-driven skeleton be washed anew in your seasonal bloodstream Let me create myself in your womb with my own sperm Would I have been like this if I had different parents? Was Malay alias me possible from an absolutely different sperm? Would I have been Malay in the womb of other women of my father? Would I have made a professional gentleman of me like my dead brother without Shubha? Oh, answer, let somebody answer these Shubha, ah, Shubha Let me see the earth through your cellophane hymen Come back on the green mattress again As cathode rays are sucked up with the warmth of magnet's brilliance I remember the letter of the final decesion of 1956 The surroundings of your clitoris were being embellished with coon at that time Fine rib-smashing roots were descending into your bosom Stupid relationship inflted in the bypass of senseless neglect Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I do not know whether I am going to die Squandering was roaring within heart's exhaustive impatience I'll disrupt and destroy I'll split all into pieces for the sake of Art There isn't any other way out for poetry except suicide Shubha Let me enter into the immemorial incontinence of your labia majora Into the absurdity of woeless effort In the golden chlorophyll of the drunken heart Why wasn't I lost in my mother's urethra? Why wasn't I driven away in my father's urine after his self-coition? Why wasn't I mixed in the ovum-flux or in the phlegm? With her eyes shut supine beneath me I felt terribly distressed when I saw comfort seize Shubha Women could be treacherous even after unfolding a helpless appeareance Today it seems there is nothing so treacherous as Women and Art Now my ferocious heart is rinning towards an impossible death Vertigoes of water are coming up to my neck from the pierced earth I will die Oh what are these happening within me? I am failing to fetch out my hand and my palm From the dried sperms on my trousers spreading wings 300000 children are gliding toward the district of Shubha's bosom Millions of needles are now running from my blood into Poetry Now the smuggling of my obstinate leg is trying to plunge Into the death killer sex-wig entangled in the hypnotic kingdom of words In violent mirrors on each wall of the room I am observing After letting loose a few naked Malay, his unestablished scramblings.

For you must know, my dear ones, that each of us is undoubtedly guilty on behalf of all and for all on earth, not only because of the common guilt of the world, but personally, each one of us, for all people and for each person on this earth. This knowledge is the crown of the monk’s path, and of every man’s path on earth. For monks are not a different sort of men, but only such as all men on earth ought also to be. Only then will our hearts be moved to a love that is infinite, universal, and that knows no satiety. Then each of us will be able to gain the whole world by love and wash away the world’s sins with his tears …

When an innocent man suddenly dies, God laughs. God gave the world to the wicked. He made all the judges blind, And if God didn’t do it, who did? If I smile and try to forget my pain, All my suffering comes back to haunt me; I know that God does hold me guilty. Since I am held guilty, why should I bother? No soap can wash away my sins.

What is it that one was taught to say in one's boyhood? 'Lead us not into temptation. Forgive us our sins. Wash away our iniquities.' Let us say that together. The prayer of your pride has been answered. The prayer of your repentance will be answered also. I worshipped you too much. I am punished for it. You worshipped yourself too much. We are both punished.

say the land. The mix of raw rock and vivid green. The thickness in the air when it rains, and the clean scent when the storms pass, as if it’s washed away all your sins. The tainted glory of stone castles, half-broken, climbing up from the valley, as if still battling the past. The glassy, cold surface of the lakes reflecting towering trees. The sprawl of endless horses

There's a reason Psalm 51 is the best known of the Penitential Psalms and one of the best-loved psalms of all. It speaks to the deep pain we feel inside us when we sin, and then it shows us the mercy of God. His is the love of a Father who sees his child's stricken face — washes the tears away — and then reaches inside to create in us "a clean heart;" to breathe "a new and right spirit" within us.

He was the meekest and lowliest of all the sons of men, yet he spoke of coming on the clouds of heaven with the glory of God. He was so austere that evil spirits and demons cried out in terror at his coming, yet he was so genial and winsome and approachable that the children loved to play with him, and the little ones nestled in his arms. His presence at the innocent gaiety of a village wedding was like the presence of sunshine. No one was half so compassionate to sinners, yet no one ever spoke such red hot scorching words about sin. A bruised reed he would not break, his whole life was love, yet on one occasion he demanded of the Pharisees how they ever expected to escape the damnation of Hell. He was a dreamer of dreams and a seer of visions, yet for sheer stark realism He has all of our stark realists soundly beaten. He was a servant of all, washing the disciples feet, yet masterfully He strode into the temple, and the hucksters and moneychangers fell over one another to get away from the mad rush and the fire they saw blazing in His eyes. He saved others, yet at the last Himself He did not save. There is nothing in history like the union of contrasts which confronts us in the gospels. The mystery of Jesus is the mystery of divine personality.

In every step, in every breath of yours, you’ll feel me… I am in every sight you see, in every voice you hear… Your ears will be filled with my whispers, my laughter and my cries… My fights and tantrums will never leave you… My footsteps, my shadow, will haunt you in every corner you go… I will be your mornings, your days and nights… I am the breeze that wraps your body in the morning… I am the moonlight that bathes your body at night… I am the fire that will burn you. I am the storm that you cannot handle… I am the rain that will wash away the dust from your soul… I am in your reflection. I am your shadow… Your heart whispers my name in every beat… Every word you say, echoes my name… I am the secret you want to hide, but the secret that the world knows… I am your dream… I am your nightmare… I am your darkest sin... I am you…

No, not despairingly Come I to Thee; No, not distrustingly Bend I the knee; Sin hath gone over me, Yet is this still my plea, Jesus hath died. Ah, mine iniquity Crimson has been; Infinite, infinite, Sin upon sin; Sin of not loving Thee, Sin of not trusting Thee. Infinite sin. Lord, I confess to Thee Sadly my sin; All I am, tell I Thee, All I have been. Purge Thou my sin away, Wash Thou my soul this day; Lord, make me clean!

In Fez Yasmin had another dream. „I saw myself in a shower. Water poured over me, washing and purifying me and I was told ‚All your sins have been washed away by that water. You‘ve been cleansed. Your sins have been washed away and you‘re blessed.‘ „I feel that Allah has been knocking on my door for some time now, perhaps all my life. ‚But you just haven‘t recognized Me‘, He says, ‚You haven‘t recognized Me. You keep waiting but I have been there all along.‘“ (p.195)

I look at the cross of Christ. There I see that sin is so black and damnable, that nothing but the blood of God's own Son can wash it away. There I see that sin has so separated me from my holy Maker, that all the angels in heaven could never have made peace between us. Nothing could reconcile us, short of the death of Christ. Ah, if I listened to the wretched talk of proud men, I might sometimes fancy sin was not so very sinful! But I cannot think little of sin, when I look at the cross of Christ.

He has spent weeks on the pristine, frosty shore of Lake Baikal in Siberia. He has drunk himself stupid in the fairy-tale blood brothels of old Dubrovnik, lounged in red-smoke dens in Laos, enjoyed the New York blackout of 1977, and more recently, feasted on Vegas showgirls in the Dean Martin suite at the Bellagio. He has watched Hindu abstainers wash away their sins in the Ganges, danced a midnight tango on a boulevard in Buenos Aires, and bitten into a faux geisha under the shade of a shogun pavilion in Kyoto.

For know, dear ones, that every one of us is undoubtedly responsible for all men- and everything on earth, not merely through the general sinfulness of creation, but each one personally for all mankind and every individual man. This knowledge is the crown of life for the monk and for every man. For monks are not a special sort of men, but only what all men ought to be. Only through that knowledge, our heart grows soft with infinite, universal, inexhaustible love. Then every one of you will have the power to win over the whole world by love and to wash away the sins of the world with your tears.

Love one another, Fathers,’ said Father Zossima, as far as Alyosha could remember afterwards. ‘Love God’s people. Because we have come here and shut ourselves within these walls, we are no holier than those that are outside, but on the contrary, from the very fact of coming here, each of us has confessed to himself that he is worse than others, than all men on earth.... And the longer the monk lives in his seclusion, the more keenly he must recognise that. Else he would have had no reason to come here. When he realises that he is not only worse than others, but that he is responsible to all men for all and everything, for all human sins, national and individual, only then the aim of our seclusion is attained. For know, dear ones, that every one of us is undoubtedly responsible for all men — and everything on earth, not merely through the general sinfulness of creation, but each one personally for all mankind and every individual man. This knowledge is the crown of life for the monk and for every man. For monks are not a special sort of men, but only what all men ought to be. Only through that knowledge, our heart grows soft with infinite, universal, inexhaustible love. Then every one of you will have the power to win over the whole world by love and to wash away the sins of the world with your tears.... Each of you keep watch over your heart and confess your sins to yourself unceasingly. Be not afraid of your sins, even when perceiving them, if only there be penitence, but make no conditions with God. Again, I say, be not proud. Be proud neither to the little nor to the great. Hate not those who reject you, who insult you, who abuse and slander you. Hate not the atheists, the teachers of evil, the materialists — and I mean not only the good ones — for there are many good ones among them, especially in our day — hate not even the wicked ones. Remember them in your prayers thus: Save, O Lord, all those who have none to pray for them, save too all those who will not pray. And add: it is not in pride that I make this prayer, O Lord, for I am lower than all men.... Love God’s people, let not strangers draw away the flock, for if you slumber in your slothfulness and disdainful pride, or worse still, in covetousness, they will come from all sides and draw away your flock. Expound the Gospel to the people unceasingly... be not extortionate.... Do not love gold and silver, do not hoard them.... Have faith. Cling to the banner and raise it on high.

Shelley, you’re just like that oyster.” God confronted me on the deeper areas of my life that I wouldn’t let Him open up and heal. When Garrett saw me walk off alone over the sandy hills, he knew God was leading me to a healing moment. Standing on the edge of the salty waters of Puget Sound, I allowed God to reach into the darkest places in my heart and expose the ugly lies I believed about myself. Huge salty tears pouring out like waves, God assured me He threw my sins out as far as the east is from the west. The tremendous shame and guilt I carried for so many years was being literally washed away into the Pacific Ocean. I was no longer a broken child of sexual abuse but a cherished Champion daughter of the Most High God.

Principles As believers, we are “a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God” (1 Pet. 2:9). As God’s priests, we are to intercede for others so they will return to God and be coworkers in His purposes. Ten steps of preparedness for entering God’s presence in prayer are: Appropriate God’s Grace: Acknowledge God’s holiness, turn away from your sins, and be cleansed through the blood of Christ. Put on Righteousness: Appropriate the righteousness of Christ through faith. Live in that righteousness, doing what is right by keeping in step with the Spirit. Put On Truth and Honesty: Be transparent and clean before the Lord, desiring truth in the innermost parts and living with integrity. Cleanse Yourself with the Word: Before you come before God, make sure that you’ve read the Word, that the Word is in you, and that you are obeying the Word. Worship and Praise God: Honor and worship God in spirit and in truth (John 4:24–24), acknowledging Him as your All in All. Separate Yourself: Remove yourself from your normal environment, activities, and distractions. Find the place in God where He meets you by coming to Him with the right heart, attitude, and motives. Believe: Have faith in God’s power to do what He has promised and in the effectiveness of Christ’s sacrifice. Give God the Glory: Confess that God is the One who accomplished your atonement, forgiveness, and reconciliation with Him, and is worthy to be praised. Give to others out of the abundance God has given you. Wash in the Word: Ask God to fulfill His purposes based on His will and the promises in His Word. Remain in the Anointing: Remain in a state of preparedness for prayer. Honor the Lord by reflecting His nature and character in your life.

Oh I'll die I'll die I'll die My skin is in blazing furore I do not know what I'll do where I'll go oh I am sick I'll kick all Arts in the butt and go away Shubha Shubha let me go and live in your cloaked melon In the unfastened shadow of dark destroyed saffron curtain The last anchor is leaving me after I got the other anchors lifted I can't resist anymore, a million glass panes are breaking in my cortex I know, Shubha, spread out your matrix, give me peace Each vein is carrying a stream of tears up to the heart Brain's contagious flints are decomposing out of eternal sickness other why didn't you give me birth in the form of a skeleton I'd have gone two billion light years and kissed God's ass But nothing pleases me nothing sounds well I feel nauseated with more than a single kiss I've forgotten women during copulation and returned to the Muse In to the sun-coloured bladder I do not know what these happenings are but they are occurring within me I'll destroy and shatter everything draw and elevate Shubha in to my hunger Shubha will have to be given Oh Malay Kolkata seems to be a procession of wet and slippery organs today But i do not know what I'll do now with my own self My power of recollection is withering away Let me ascend alone toward death I haven't had to learn copulation and dying I haven't had to learn the responsibility of shedding the last drops after urination Haven't had to learn to go and lie beside Shubha in the darkness Have not had to learn the usage of French leather while lying on Nandita's bosom Though I wanted the healthy spirit of Aleya's fresh China-rose matrix Yet I submitted to the refuge of my brain's cataclysm I am failing to understand why I still want to live I am thinking of my debauched Sabarna-Choudhury ancestors I'll have to do something different and new Let me sleep for the last time on a bed soft as the skin of Shubha's bosom I remember now the sharp-edged radiance of the moment I was born I want to see my own death before passing away The world had nothing to do with Malay Roychoudhury Shubha let me sleep for a few moments in your violent silvery uterus Give me peace, Shubha, let me have peace Let my sin-driven skeleton be washed anew in your seasonal bloodstream Let me create myself in your womb with my own sperm Would I have been like this if I had different parents? Was Malay alias me possible from an absolutely different sperm? Would I have been Malay in the womb of other women of my father? Would I have made a professional gentleman of me like my dead brother without Shubha? Oh, answer, let somebody answer these Shubha, ah Shubha Let me see the earth through your cellophane hymen Come back on the green mattress again As cathode rays are sucked up with the warmth of a magnet's brilliance I remember the letter of the final decision of 1956 The surroundings of your clitoris were being embellished with coon at that time Fine rib-smashing roots were descending in to your bosom Stupid relationship inflated in the bypass of senseless neglect Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I do not know whether I am going to die Squandering was roaring within heart's exhaustive impatience I'll disrupt and destroy I'll split all in to pieces for the sake of Art There isn't any other way out for Poetry except suicide Shubha Let me enter in to the immemorial incontinence of your labia majora In to the absurdity of woeless effort In the golden chlorophyll of the drunken heart Why wasn't I lost in my mother's urethra? Why wasn't I driven away in my father's urine after his self-coition? Why wasn't I mixed in the ovum -flux or in the phlegm? With her eyes shut supine beneath me I felt terribly distressed when I saw comfort seize S

What are the heights, and depths, and lengths, of human science, with all the boasted acquisitions of the brightest genius of mankind! Learning and science can measure the globe, can sound the depths of the sea, can compass the heavens, can mete out the distances of the sun and moon, and mark out the path of every twinkling star for many ages past, or ages to come; but they cannot acquaint us with the way of salvation from this long, this endless distress. What are all the sublime reasonings of philosophers upon the abstruse and most difficult subjects? What is the whole circle of sciences which human wit and thought can trace out and comprehend? Can they deliver us from the guilt of one sin? Can they free us from one of the terrors of the Almighty? Can they assuage the torment of a wounded spirit, or guard us from the impressions of divine indignation? Alas, they are all but trifles in comparison of this blessed Gospel, which saves us from eternal anguish and death. It is the Gospel that teaches us the holy skill to prevent this worm of conscience from gnawing the soul, and instructs us how to kill it in the seed and first springs of it, to mortify the corruptions of the heart, to resist the temptations of Satan, and where to wash away the guilt of sin. It is this blessed Gospel that clearly discovers to us how we may guard against the fire of divine wrath, or rather how to secure our souls from becoming the fuel of it. It is this Book that teaches us to sprinkle the blood of Christ on a guilty conscience by faith, by receiving Him as sincere penitents, and thereby defends us from the angel of death and destruction. This is that experimental philosophy of the saints in Heaven whereby they have been released from the bonds of their sins, have been rescued from the curse of the law, and have been secured from the gnawing worm and devouring fire.

Once when I was a tree, African sun woke me up green at dawn. African wind combed the branches of my hair. African rain washed my limbs. Once when I was a tree, flesh came and worshipped my roots. Flesh came to preserve my voice. Flesh came honoring my limbs. Now flesh comes with metal teeth, with chomping sticks and fire launchers. And flesh cuts me down and enslaves my limbs to make forts, ships, pews for other gods. Now flesh laughs at my charred and beaten frame, discarding me in the mud, burning me up in the flames. Flesh has grown pale and lazy. Flesh has sinned against the fathers. Now flesh listens no more to the voice of spirits talking through my limbs. If flesh would listen, I would warn him that the spirits are displeased and are planning what to do with him. But flesh thinks I am dead, charred and gone. Flesh thinks that by fire he can kill, thinks that with metal teeth, I will die. Thinks that all the voices linked from root to limb are silenced. Flesh does not know that he does not give me life, nor can he take it away. That Is What the spirits are singing now. It is time that flesh bow down on his knee again.

Love one another, Fathers,” said Father Zossima, as far as Alyosha could remember afterwards. “Love God’s people. Because we have come here and shut ourselves within these walls, we are no holier than those that are outside, but on the contrary, from the very fact of coming here, each of us has confessed to himself that he is worse than others, than all men on earth... And the longer the monk lives in his seclusion, the more keenly he must recognize that. Else he would have had no reason to come here. When he realizes that he is not only worse than others, but that he is responsible to all men for all and everything, for all human sins, national and individual, only then the aim of our seclusion is attained. For know, dear ones, that every one of us is undoubtedly responsible for all men and everything on earth, not merely through the general sinfulness of creation, but each one personally for all mankind and every individual man. This knowledge is the crown of life for the monk and for every man. For monks are not a special sort of men, but only what all men ought to be. Only through that knowledge, our heart grows soft with infinite, universal, inexhaustible love. Then every one of you will have the power to win over the whole world by love and to wash away the sins of the world with your tears... Each of you keep watch over your heart and confess your sins to yourself unceasingly. Be not afraid of your sins, even when perceiving them, if only there be penitence, but make no conditions with God. Again I say, Be not proud. Be proud neither to the little nor to the great. Hate not those who reject you, who insult you, who abuse and slander you. Hate not the atheists, the teachers of evil, the materialists—and I mean not only the good ones—for there are many good ones among them, especially in our day—hate not even the wicked ones. Remember them in your prayers thus: Save, O Lord, all those who have none to pray for them, save too all those who will not pray. And add: it is not in pride that I make this prayer, O Lord, for I am lower than all men... Love God’s people, let not strangers draw away the flock, for if you slumber in your slothfulness and disdainful pride, or worse still, in covetousness, they will come from all sides and draw away your flock. Expound the Gospel to the people unceasingly... be not extortionate... Do not love gold and silver, do not hoard them... Have faith. Cling to the banner and raise it on high.

Love one another, Fathers,” said Father Zossima, as far as Alyosha could remember afterwards. “Love God's people. Because we have come here and shut ourselves within these walls, we are no holier than those that are outside, but on the contrary, from the very fact of coming here, each of us has confessed to himself that he is worse than others, than all men on earth.... And the longer the monk lives in his seclusion, the more keenly he must recognize that. Else he would have had no reason to come here. When he realizes that he is not only worse than others, but that he is responsible to all men for all and everything, for all human sins, national and individual, only then the aim of our seclusion is attained. For know, dear ones, that every one of us is undoubtedly responsible for all men and everything on earth, not merely through the general sinfulness of creation, but each one personally for all mankind and every individual man. This knowledge is the crown of life for the monk and for every man. For monks are not a special sort of men, but only what all men ought to be. Only through that knowledge, our heart grows soft with infinite, universal, inexhaustible love. Then every one of you will have the power to win over the whole world by love and to wash away the sins of the world with your tears.... Each of you keep watch over your heart and confess your sins to yourself unceasingly. Be not afraid of your sins, even when perceiving them, if only there be penitence, but make no conditions with God. Again I say, Be not proud. Be proud neither to the little nor to the great. Hate not those who reject you, who insult you, who abuse and slander you. Hate not the atheists, the teachers of evil, the materialists—and I mean not only the good ones—for there are many good ones among them, especially in our day—hate not even the wicked ones. Remember them in your prayers thus: Save, O Lord, all those who have none to pray for them, save too all those who will not pray. And add: it is not in pride that I make this prayer, O Lord, for I am lower than all men.... Love God's people, let not strangers draw away the [pg 178] flock, for if you slumber in your slothfulness and disdainful pride, or worse still, in covetousness, they will come from all sides and draw away your flock. Expound the Gospel to the people unceasingly ... be not extortionate.... Do not love gold and silver, do not hoard them.... Have faith. Cling to the banner and raise it on high.

Several years after the war, Corrie ten Boom was speaking about her experiences in Munich, when one of her former S.S. guards approached her at the end of the church service. ‘“How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein,” he said. “To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!” His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side. ‘Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? “Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him.” I tried to smile, I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. “Jesus,” I prayed, “I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness.” As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me. And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself.

In today’s evangelical church, water baptism is often regarded as a rather insignificant matter, at least in the process of salvation. However, baptism carried the utmost significance to the early Christians. They associated three very important matters with water baptism: 1. Remission of sins. They believed that water baptism canceled all past sins. For example, Justin Martyr wrote, “There is no other way [to obtain God’s promises] than this—to become acquainted with Christ, to be washed in the fountain spoken of by Isaiah for the remission of sins, and for the remainder, to live sinless lives.”2 They based their views on baptism and remission of sin on the following Bible passages, among others: “And now why are you waiting? Arise and be baptized, and wash away your sins, calling on the name of the Lord” (Acts 22:16). “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us, through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3:5). “There is also an antitype which now saves us, namely baptism (not the removal of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience toward God)” (1 Pet. 3:21). “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38).

It is a hot summer day in Tennessee in the midst of the sixth decade of this century. The girl has climbed the fence to get to the swimming hole she has visited so many summers of her life in the time before this part of the land was enclosed. She stands now at the edge of it. Her body is sticky with heat. The surface of the water moves slightly. Sunlight shimmers and dances in a green reflection that seems as she stares at it to pull her in even before her skin is wet with it. Drops of water on the infant’s head. All the body immersed for baptism. Do these images come to her as she sinks into the coolness? The washing of hands before Sunday’s midday meal. All our sins washed away. Water was once the element for purification. But at the bottom of this pool, There is no telling what is there now. This is what the girl’s father will say to her finally: corroded cans of chemical waste, some radioactive substances. That was why they put the fence there. She is not thinking of that now. The words have not yet been said, and so for her no trouble exists here. The water holds up her body. She is weightless in this fulsome element, the waves her body makes embracing her with their own benediction. Beneath her in the shadowy green, she feels the depth of the pond. In this coolness as the heat mercifully abates, her mind is set free, to dream as the water dreams.

Varanasi is the holiest city in Hinduism in India, which is a very unique city in india. The land of Varanasi (Kashi) has been the ultimate pilgrimage spot for Hindus for ages. Often referred to as Benares, Varanasi is the oldest living city in the world. Ganges in Varanasi is believed to have the power to wash away the sins of mortals. Ganges is said to have its origins in the tresses of Lord Shiva and in Varanasi, it expands to the mighty river that we know of. The city is a center of learning and civilization for over 3000 years. With Sarnath, the place where Buddha preached his first sermon after enlightenment, just 10 km away, Varanasi has been a symbol of Hindu renaissance. Knowledge, philosophy, culture, devotion to Gods, Indian arts and crafts have all flourished here for centuries. The holy city has many other temples also. The Tulsi Manas mandir is a modern marble temple. The walls of the temple are engraved with verses and scenes from Ramcharitmanas, hindi version of Ramayana, written by Tulsidas ji who lived here. Varanasi has produced numerous famous scholars and intellectuals, who have left their mark in respective fields of activity. Varanasi is home to numerous universities, college, schools, Madarsas and Pathshalas and the Guru Shishya tradition still continue in many institutions. The literary tradition of languages, dialects, newspapers, magazines and libraries continue to even this day. In varanasi one must have to do Boat Ride.

51  wHave mercy on me, [1] O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your  xabundant mercy yblot out my transgressions. 2  zWash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and  acleanse me from my sin! 3  bFor I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. 4  cAgainst you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil  din your sight, eso that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment. 5 Behold,  fI was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me. 6 Behold, you delight in truth in  gthe inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart. 7 Purge me  hwith hyssop, and I shall be clean; zwash me, and I shall be  iwhiter than snow. 8 Let me hear joy and gladness; jlet the bones  kthat you have broken rejoice. 9  lHide your face from my sins, and  yblot out all my iniquities. 10  mCreate in me a  nclean heart, O God, and  orenew a right [2] spirit within me. 11  pCast me not away from your presence, and take not  qyour Holy Spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. 13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will  rreturn to you. 14 Deliver me from  sbloodguiltiness, O God, O  tGod of my salvation, and  umy tongue will sing aloud of your  vrighteousness. 15 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. 16  wFor you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it; you will not be pleased with a burnt offering. 17 The sacrifices of God are  xa broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. 18  yDo good to Zion in your good pleasure; zbuild up the walls of Jerusalem; 19 then will you delight in  aright sacrifices, in burnt offerings and  bwhole burnt offerings; then bulls will be offered on your altar.

Stark Electric Jesus Oh I'll die I'll die I'll die My skin is in blazing furore I do not know what I'll do where I'll go oh I am sick I'll kick all Arts in the butt and go away Shubha Shubha let me go and live in your cloaked melon In the unfastened shadow of dark destroyed saffron curtain The last anchor is leaving me after I got the other anchors lifted I can't resist anymore, a million glass panes are breaking in my cortex I know, Shubha, spread out your matrix, give me peace Each vein is carrying a stream of tears up to the heart Brain's contagious flints are decomposing out of eternal sickness other why didn't you give me birth in the form of a skeleton I'd have gone two billion light years and kissed God's ass But nothing pleases me nothing sounds well I feel nauseated with more than a single kiss I've forgotten women during copulation and returned to the Muse In to the sun-coloured bladder I do not know what these happenings are but they are occurring within me I'll destroy and shatter everything draw and elevate Shubha in to my hunger Shubha will have to be given Oh Malay Kolkata seems to be a procession of wet and slippery organs today But i do not know what I'll do now with my own self My power of recollection is withering away Let me ascend alone toward death I haven't had to learn copulation and dying I haven't had to learn the responsibility of shedding the last drops after urination Haven't had to learn to go and lie beside Shubha in the darkness Have not had to learn the usage of French leather while lying on Nandita's bosom Though I wanted the healthy spirit of Aleya's fresh China-rose matrix Yet I submitted to the refuge of my brain's cataclysm I am failing to understand why I still want to live I am thinking of my debauched Sabarna-Choudhury ancestors I'll have to do something different and new Let me sleep for the last time on a bed soft as the skin of Shubha's bosom I remember now the sharp-edged radiance of the moment I was born I want to see my own death before passing away The world had nothing to do with Malay Roychoudhury Shubha let me sleep for a few moments in your violent silvery uterus Give me peace, Shubha, let me have peace Let my sin-driven skeleton be washed anew in your seasonal bloodstream Let me create myself in your womb with my own sperm Would I have been like this if I had different parents? Was Malay alias me possible from an absolutely different sperm? Would I have been Malay in the womb of other women of my father? Would I have made a professional gentleman of me like my dead brother without Shubha? Oh, answer, let somebody answer these Shubha, ah Shubha Let me see the earth through your cellophane hymen Come back on the green mattress again As cathode rays are sucked up with the warmth of a magnet's brilliance I remember the letter of the final decision of 1956 The surroundings of your clitoris were being embellished with coon at that time Fine rib-smashing roots were descending in to your bosom Stupid relationship inflated in the bypass of senseless neglect Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I do not know whether I am going to die Squandering was roaring within heart's exhaustive impatience I'll disrupt and destroy I'll split all in to pieces for the sake of Art There isn't any other way out for Poetry except suicide

Quell my darkness and my doubt, Still my inner being, Calm the storm that rages within, That keeps my heart from singing.   Your utter beauty and striking light, Often seem untouchable; out of reach, Some days all I can seem to do is fight, Living in the breach.   Stop my worry and drive away my fear, Strengthen my weak resolve. Wash away my sin; remove my guilt, Please all my hurt dissolve.   You are the Healer and Savior of my soul, You‘re the Deliverer of my heart. Come, my Lord, and make me whole, From me ne’er depart.

Lord, today I want to thank You for your story. Thank You for doing the will of Your Father that we can be free of sin for Your sacrifice. Help me to understand Your life here on earth in a deeper way so that I may truly realize my sins are forgiven by Your grace. Wash me clean as snow. Make me a new creation that testifies to Your glory. Forgive me for focusing on me and my gains to the point I walk away from You. Forgive me in those times where the darkness settles in and I resort to anger, jealousy, and all the other emotions that pull me further from You. By Your story Lord give me strength to forgive all who have sinned against me. Help me to be slow to anger over anyone who offends me. Show me how You prayed to Your Father to forgive those who were crucifying You for not knowing what they were doing. Cast any hold the enemy has on me into the fire pit and let NOTHING separate me from Your love and grace. Hear my prayers Lord and give me a hedge of protection Lord. Loosen all the Godly angels to watch over me Lord. I ask that You go before me today Lord. Guide my thoughts and steps in Jesus name, amen.

child!” the Reverend thundered after Edward committed sins as heinous as spilling his milk at the supper table, or failing to wash away a trace of dirt from his hands before inspection. “Edward, fetch the rod.” His father would command him to get the viperlike leather strap hanging from a nail inside the study near the painting of Golgotha. Edward would tremble. He had long ago forsaken pleading for mercy. Begging was a sign of weakness, a failing

Not all the blood of beasts, On Jewish altars slain, Could give the guilty conscience peace, Or wash away the stain. But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, Takes all our sins away, A sacrifice of nobler name And richer blood than they. My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of Thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin. Isaac Watts

Heavenly Father, I understand that sin has damaged my heart. I put my trust in the Savior’s sacrifice and ask You to wash away my sins and make me a new person. Thank You for what Jesus did for me.

I don’t much care for all this talk of God washing away all my dirt. I like a bit of grit around the edges. It gives me character and does a passable job of faking depth, from a distance.

By that crimson stain, our sins are washed away and we appear before You as saints whose prayers are worthy of consideration—all because of Christ’s enabling blood.  We thank You for hearing and answering our prayer.  In Jesus’ name we pray.  Amen and amen.” Tears

Opening Prayer God our Father, out of loving obedience to you, and out of love for all that you created through him, your Only Begotten Son became human and dwelt among us. He was born as a baby, just like us. He went through the joys and sufferings of living, just like us. He suffered and died and rose again, just for us. Give us hearts of repentance, so that we may weep for the one who was pierced for our sins, and rejoice as our sins and impurities are washed away. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Rourke bowed and backed away. Then he gave Elizabeth the most wonderful smile. It spoke of love and a future and everything she had dreamed about for years. She watched him walk down the street, ignoring Aunt’s fussing. He’d felt the connection between them. Without words, he had washed away the sins of the past and welcomed her into his future. His smile offered hope that turned storm clouds to sun. “Come

Forget your troubles, come on get happy You better chase all your cares away Shout Hallelujah, come on get happy Get ready for the judgment day The sun is shinin', come on get happy The Lord is waitin' to take your hand Shout Hallelujah, come on get happy We're going to the promise land We're headin' across the river To wash your sins away in the tide It's all so peaceful on the other side

First off, your sin has been dealt with. Your Father has removed it from you “as far as the east is from the west” (Ps. 103:12). Your sins have been washed away (1 Cor. 6:11). When God looks at you he does not see your sin. He has not one condemning thought toward you (Rom. 8:1). But that’s not all. You have a new heart. That’s the promise of the new covenant: “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws” (Ezek. 36:26-27). There’s a reason that it’s called good news.

Have mercy upon me, 0 God, According to Your lovingkindness; According to the multitude of Your tender mercies, Blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, And cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions, And my sin is always before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned, And done this evil in Your sight- That You may be found just when You speak, And blameless when You judge.... Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me hear joy and gladness, That the bones You have broken may rejoice. Hide Your face from my sins, And blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, 0 God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence, And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, And uphold me by Your generous Spirit.... Deliver me from the guilt of bloodshed, 0 God, The God of my salvation, And my tongue shall sing aloud of Your righteousness. 0 Lord, open my lips, And my mouth shall show forth Your praise. For

Oh blessed tears, by which interior stains are washed away, and the flames of sin are quenched! Happy are those who weep thus, for they shall rejoice hereafter. By these tears, oh soul, discover your Bridegroom! Embrace him (whom) you desire; be inebriated with the river of delight; draw milk and honey from the breasts of his consolation. These tears and sighs are wondrous, precious gifts and consolations given you by your Spouse. Let these tears furnish drink for you; they are bread for you by day and by night, bread that surely strengthens the heart of man and is sweeter than honey and the honeycomb.

Remember, it is only mankind that weeps, and the manlier you are, the more you should do so.  Augustine says that the more saintly a person is and full of holy desires, the more tears he should shed during prayer. Oh happy tears that wreck our enemies, that drown evil thoughts, that extinguish the flames of our wrong desires, that wash away the stains of our sins, that moisten the hardness of our heart and soften it towards God! The ship of our desire sails swiftly over you to him, for the wind of the Holy Spirit never fails to purify and move our tears. The sinner bathes himself in you like the snake so that he may the more easily cast the skin of his past life by means of the narrow passage of penance.

Moreover, Synod in agreement with our Confession maintains that “the sacraments are not empty or meaningless signs, so as to deceive us, but visible signs and seals of an inward and invisible thing, by means of which God works in us by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Article XXXIII), and that more particularly baptism is called “the washing of regeneration” and “the washing away of sins” because God would “assure us by this divine pledge and sign that we are spiritually cleansed from our sins as really as we are outwardly washed with water”; wherefore our Church in the prayer after baptism “thanks and praises God that He has forgiven us and our children all our sins, through the blood of His beloved Son —Page 172— Jesus Christ, and received us through His Holy Spirit as members of His only begotten Son, and so adopted us to be His children, and sealed and confirmed the same unto us by holy baptism”; so that our Confessional Standards clearly teach that the sacrament of baptism signifies and seals the washing away of our sins by the blood and the Spirit of Jesus Christ, that is, the justification and the renewal by the Holy Spirit as benefits which God has bestowed upon our seed. Synod is of the opinion that the representation that every elect child is on that account already in fact regenerated even before baptism, can be proved neither on scriptural nor on confessional grounds, seeing that God fulfils His promise sovereignly in His own time, whether before, during, or after baptism. It is hence imperative to be circumspect in one’s utterances on this matter, so as not to desire to be wise beyond that which God has revealed.

Time is river, it washes away much of our endeavors and sins often.

I look at the cross of Christ. There I see that sin is so black and damnable that nothing but the blood of God’s own Son can wash it away. There I see that sin has so separated me from my holy Maker that all the angels in heaven could never have made peace between us. Nothing could reconcile us short of the death of Christ. If I listened to the wretched talk of proud men, I might sometimes fancy that sin was not so very sinful. But I cannot think little of sin when I look at the cross of Christ.

Remember three things. First, Christ took upon His own head the sins of those who have wronged us. Second, because of this, He stands between us and those whom we think have wronged us, asking us to realize that the Atonement is sufficient for those sins and to therefore repent of our grudges and give up our enmity. And finally, if we forgive, the Atonement fills us with what we have lacked and either washes away our pain, or sustains us in it.

My goodness was like 'the morning-dew that passeth away'; and, loving sin and disrelishing religious duties as much as ever, I returned, as 'the sow that is washed, to her wallowing in the mire'. With little variation, this was my course of life for nine years: but in that time I had such experience of my own weakness, and the superior force of temptation, that I secretly concluded reformation in my case to be impracticable. 'Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?' I was experimentally convicted that I was equally unable, with the feeble barrier of resolutions and endeavours, to stem the torrent of impetuous inclinations, when swelled by welcome, suitable and powerful temptations; and being ignorant that God had reserved this to himself as his own work, and had engaged to do it for the poor sinner, who, feeling his own insufficiency, is heartily desirous to have it done by him, I stifled my convictions as well as I could, and put off my repentance to a more convenient season.

And now what are you waiting for? Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name (Acts 22;16)

What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus; What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Oh! precious is the flow That makes me white as snow; No other fount I know, Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

knew it wouldn’t be long before someone rose up to incite anger against the Romans,” a Herodian party member joined alongside Kayafa. “This ‘peace’ from Tiberius couldn’t last, just as Augustus’ ‘pax’ couldn’t last.” “Zechariah’s son is not inciting riots,” Nakdimon defended him. “Wherever he goes, people listen, yes, but they do not gather swords into their homes. Rather, they go home and pray, wanting to further increase their alliance with Yehuway.” “Are you, Nakdimon, a party member of this rising cult?” Annas queried him with a menacing look. “I am a loyal member of the Sanhedrin as well as a strong Parush,” he defiantly replied. “However, I have known Zechariah over fifty years and he did not raise an inciter.” “But his son is an instigator, is he not?” “If he is an instigator, it is not the shout of a sword. Rather, it is the calm of peace.” After a brief lull, he continued, “Yehohanan only wants us to ‘repent’.” “Repent?” Kayafa repeated. “And how does he propose to atone for mankind’s sins? By washing them away? We are the ones who are appointed by God to help mankind realign themselves with vindication – not a man hollering simple triflings at a crowd of simpletons.” “What you mean to say is this: since Yehohanan has been baptizing in the river, you now have an overage of livestock that you cannot sell because many people no longer believe they have to present a sacrifice to atone for their sins. Your treasury lessens.” “It is more than that,” Kayafa returned. “Yehohanan is a kohen of the House of Abijah, prepared to be the kohen hagadol of Hebron. He has gained wide respect and renown throughout the land. I discern Yehohanan wants to create a new social order! Who is this ‘man who is coming after me’ that he wants to elevate? More, is that not the tactic of an ambitious cult? Do we not now have three bodies acting on God’s behalf, and now, perhaps a fourth?

She'd only gotten what she deserved. No penance could wash away her sins. Not really.

Merely by doing darshan of just one kashay free person, one’s paap (sins; demerit karmas) get washed away! There can be no kashay-free person other than a Gnani.

First, Christ took upon his own head the sins of those who have wronged us. Second, because of this, he stands between us and those whom we think have wronged us, asking us to realize that the atonement is sufficient for those sins and to therefore repent of our grudges and give up our enmity. And finally, if we forgive, the atonement fills us with what we have lacked and either washes away our pain, or sustains us in it.

Private Prayers for the Priest Before Celebrating the Eucharist Purify our consciences, we beseech thee, Almighty God, that we may worthily hear and receive thy Holy Word, magnify thy Holy Name, and offer unto thee the spotless sacrifice of thy Son, even Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. or Cleanse our consciences, we beseech thee, O God, by thy visitation, that thy Son our Lord Jesus Christ, when he cometh, may find in us a dwelling place made ready for himself; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen. or Be present, be present, O Jesus, our great High Priest, as you were present with your disciples, and be known to us in the breaking of bread; who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen. After Celebrating the Eucharist Blessed, praised, worshipped, hallowed and adored be Jesus Christ on his throne of glory in heaven, in the most holy Sacrament of the altar, and in the hearts of his faithful people (and may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace). Amen. or By the power of the Holy Spirit may I be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice to you all the days of my life, O Lord. Amen. or O Lord Jesus Christ, who in a wonderful Sacrament hast left unto us a memorial of thy passion: Grant us, we beseech thee, so to venerate the sacred mysteries of thy Body and Blood, that we may ever perceive within ourselves the fruit of thy redemption; who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. Prayers for use at the Offertory Offering of the Bread Blessed are you. Lord God of all creation; through your of the Bread goodness we have this bread to offer, which earth has given and human hands have made. It will become for us the Bread of Heaven.       Response:   Blessed be God forever. Preparation of the Cup By the Mystery of this water and wine may we come to of the Cup share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share in our humanity. Offering of the Cup Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation; through your goodness we have this wine to offer, fruit of the vine and work of human hands. It will become for us the Cup of Salvation.       Response:   Blessed be God forever. Of the Alms: Receive, O Lord, these gifts presented by your people for the work of your Church. At the Lavabo: Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. or Lord, wash away my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. or I will wash my hands among the innocent, Lord, and walk around your altar, that I may tell of your wondrous deeds.

Others may be able to help you pay the mite that you owe to creditors, but they cannot help you pay the penalty you owe to God for the unrighteous sins you have committed during your lifetime. Human effort is not the currency that can pay off your debt of sin. Imelda Marcos from the Philippines used to walk on her knees from the back of her Catholic church all the way to the front. She thought that her suffering would pay for her sins. When she meets Jesus, she will realize that she was deceived. Muslims believe there is a great weighing scale that weighs their good deeds against their bad deeds to determine where they will spend eternity. Again, that won’t be happening. So to avoid taking their chances with the weighing scale, they’re taught that if they die as a martyr for Allah, they can skip judgment and go directly to Paradise! Nope. Their ticket must be stamped in the blood of Jesus Christ, or they will not be entering Paradise for all of eternity. Jesus tells us in verse 59 of our chapter’s passage that the guilty cannot pay their sin debt. They can’t get that last penny. They don’t have it, and no one can lend it to them or give it to them. Anyone who stands before the Lord without having their sins washed away by His blood will have no ability to pay off their eternal debt of sin. Remember, there is a great penalty for not having your sin debt paid in full before you stand before the Judge. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal. Matthew 25:46

I'm free in Jesus mighty name. I'm free. He casts out every sadness. Every burden. Every wounded transgression. He washes away my sins.

If salt is cleansing agent,can't the sea wash away our sins.?

If salt is a cleansing agent,can't the sea wash away our sins.?