Source: Mark 14:30

''Kepha, why are you crying?
I've given you all the love you could imagine.
I've always been by your side; I've never abandoned or failed you.
I've kept my promise: my life stays complete in your nature.
Hold on to your life: let your soul stay complete in my nature.

"Oh my friends, my children, for me the road to reach you has been so long; even though the hand guiding me seemed strong and sure, I knew darkness, more often than others. It made me fragile, and trying to fight it didn't make me any stronger.
What can a lone soul do against the night?

Nothing. No, nothing.

Night, much vaster than our human souls, reaches from birth to death. How can the wobbly unreliability that inhabits us not make us fearful — and defensive?

I tried.

As I defended what had become fragile, a light dawned in me. I got up, not to pray but to fight, hand-to-hand, with weapons of words, intentions, love: weapons of the Lord.
That's what faith is about. We head for destruction, as darkness heads for light.

Understand what faith is: all it expresses is our desire for light.
Do not forget what faith is: we are on the side of light.

Do not accept that darkness tames us, or traps us in our humanity. That it shuts us up in what feels like inescapable suffering. That it makes us, in turn, stop shining on the haunting spectacle of distress, injustice and death.

We need to fight injustice and distress; they are our foes. But they must not extinguish us. No: in this conflict we must shine if we are to overcome. This struggle is about light. That I can bear witness to: a faithful friend has guided me, one who has never been untrue."

"Kepha, I'm here.
I'm always present.
Even when you forget about me, I'm listening to you.
Your soul is my presence in you.
I am the ongoing Eucharist that feeds your soul.
If you seek me, you're not lost, because I can see you.
I am the core of your moments. Feed my lambs.

"O my friends, my children, how sure was the hand that led me to you.
Do you want to know how to enter this church? I will tell you how to enter this church. Do you want to know where he lives? I will tell you where he lives. And if you knock at his door, he will welcome you.

He will welcome you because your blindness sentences him to wait for you. How can a servant keep the householder waiting?"

"Kepha, feed my sheep."

"O my friends, my children, I so much wanted to know a place where I could speak to him and listen to him. Eventually I found that place. It is both outside us and inside us. We cannot find it in our heads or our minds. We cannot move anything of ourselves there or say, I'm going there, and enter and wait. No: because this place is not made of distance. It is made of intentions. It is our soul. And this place belongs, not to us, but to him.

This place is his church. It is our faith; but our prayers alone cannot bring us there. They cannot, because singing carries us farther than lamenting. Singing carries intentions. That is why suffering must not extinguish beauty. We need to stop demanding; it is time to start giving. Whoever we are, whatever our status, we need to give back the best of ourselves and, in so doing, become part of the light.

How have I reached the threshold of this place?
Dear Lord, how simple it is. Any shepherd's dog can do it.
You hold out your hand, and another hand blesses you. And then you clothe the love of your guide with your faithfulness.

Here is where this church is: you use the best of yourself to work for him, and he gives you everything you need to become fully yourself. Because you act for him, you are in him and you live in his light. His presence manifests itself in what you do to serve him; you can see how he loves you because you put all your strength into bringing what is in you to fruition."

"Beloved Kepha, feed my sheep."

"This evening a fragile wisp of white smoke joins heaven and earth.
From this balcony, by tradition I am to choose a name.
O my friends, my children, I am Kepha, Kepha the first."