“O God,” prays the Christian in an old joke, “it’s been a good day. I’ve been a good person today. I haven’t said an ill word to anyone, or had an unkind thought, or even a selfish impulse. It’s been a good day. But in a minute, I’m going to get out of bed . . . ”

Confession and absolution are faith essentials leading to tangible grace in the bread and cup of Holy Communion. In the Communion liturgy of my youth, 1 John 1:9 and 2 John 2:2 were among several scriptures the celebrant spoke with the introduction, “Hear what comfortable words the scriptures say to all that truly turn to the Lord.”

Bread. Cup. Sensory gifts Jesus provided on the night before his death when his closest followers would betray, deny, and abandon him. He washed their feet—another tactile sign of holy love—and offered them Eucharist, thanksgiving for a foretaste of the eternal banquet promised in his victory over death.

These gifts help us to see more clearly. Walking in the light as Christ is in the light, our steps illumined by divine radiance, gives us courage to believe that “if we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

One more thing: Sometimes our senses are compromised. My late mother became blind due to macular degeneration. When she was introduced to my future wife, she said, “Come close” and held my beloved’s face in her hands. With what peripheral vision remained, she declared, “You are beautiful.” So says God, even to sinful us, when we confess.