How can one have comfort in an impersonal accidental universe? This was a great problem for Hardy. The world will simply calmly destroy us.
So he asks the question where can I find solace?
It can’t be from our actual experience:
Whence comes Solace?—Not from seeing What is doing, suffering, being, Not from noting Life’s conditions, Nor from heeding Time’s monitions; But in cleaving to the Dream, And in gazing at the gleam Whereby gray things golden seem.
There is just an accident a surprise which permits him to see grey appear to be gold. Even shadows are turning to sun.
Thus do I this heyday, holding Shadows but as lights unfolding, As no specious show this moment With its irised embowment; But as nothing other than Part of a benignant plan; Proof that earth was made for man.
That last line is the key: I am somehow meaningful. The earth is meant for human life.
This is the point where Hardy differs from Lewis. That surprise of joy led Hardy to have a moments accident – a dream. For Lewis the surprise of joy requires an explanation: it can’t be grounded in life experience which is suffering. Where then?
Misery requires no explanation of life is a bare cosmic accident: why should the ends meet? Darwin only requires existence not the good true or beautiful: those have no anchor in a world of chance. Beauty is purposeful, ordered.
Hardy can’t give a better explanation for his morning than “dream.”
There is a sort of paradox which lies at the heart of the Christian’s apprehension of God. We are told to love God and trust God. But we are also told to fear God. Psalm 2 contains the strange command:
Psalm 2:11 (ESV)
Serve the LORD with fear,
and rejoice with trembling.
How is that possible: fear and trembling are quite different than the command to rejoice. But this paradox of joy and fear, coming near and trembling is a basic theme of the Scripture:
Isaiah 66:1–2 (ESV)
The Humble and Contrite in Spirit
66 Thus says the LORD:
“Heaven is my throne,
and the earth is my footstool;
what is the house that you would build for me,
and what is the place of my rest?
2 All these things my hand has made,
and so all these things came to be,
declares the LORD.
But this is the one to whom I will look:
he who is humble and contrite in spirit
and trembles at my word.
How then do we desire that we fear? Augustine helps provide some information here:
Because human desires must be transformed and reoriented in order to long for God rightly, desire for God, according to Augustine, does not provide an unambiguous sense of pleasure, at least not while we are still on our earthly pilgrimage. For Augustine, the cultivation of the desire for God and the commitment to a process of reorientation to God do not immediately produce unadulterated joy. God does not promptly ravish the soul with exquisite bliss and comfort. Imaging the beauty and truth of God as a light that attracts the soul, Augustine writes: “What is the light which shines right through me and strikes my heart without hurting? It fills me with terror and burning love: with terror in so far as I am utterly other than it, with burning love in that I am akin to it.”19 The terror is due to the perception of the dissimilarity of the soul and the holy God, coupled with the recognition that God is drawing the soul into a potentially painful process of transformation. The exhilaration of seeking the eternal is qualified by the bittersweet disclosure of God’s difference from the unworthy soul.20 A kind of fear arises as one becomes aware of one’s need for God and one’s own insufficiency. Although Augustine often describes God as the soul’s true source and destination, he also portrays divinity and humanity as being two sides of a chasm. God’s immeasurable magnitude can appear so vast that it intimidates the soul. At the same time that it intimidates, the phenomenon of desire for God contains within it the extravagant prospect that the soul, though unlike God, has the possibility to become (in some respects) like God. This transformation into godliness necessarily involves the daunting imperative to reorient one’s life away from lesser attachments and to become a new creature, defined by one central love. Consequently, the desire for God both promises absolute fulfillment but also requires the renunciation of cherished aspects of the old worldly self.
Barrett, Lee C.. Eros and Self-Emptying(Kierkegaard as a Christian Thinker) (pp. 74-75). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition. (Incidentally, this has been a fascinating book so far. If you have any interest in Augustine or Kierkegaard, it is well worth the time.) This fear reminds me of the line in Rilke, Beauty is beginning of terror.
Thomas Watson explains that there are two types of fear:
There is a twofold fear.
1. A filial fear; when a man fears to displease God; when he fears lest he should not hold out, this is a good fear; ‘Blessed is he that fears alway;’ if Peter had feared his own heart, and said, Lord Jesus, I fear I shall forsake thee, Lord strengthen me, doubtless Christ would have kept him from falling.
2. There is a cowardly fear; when a man fears danger more than sin; when he is afraid to be good, this fear is an enemy to suffering. God proclaimed that those who were fearful should not go to the wars, Deut. 20:8. The fearful are unfit to fight in Christ’s wars; a man possessed with fear, doth not consult what is best, but what is safest. If he may save his estate, he will snare his conscience, Prov. 29:25. ‘In the fear of man there is a snare.’ Fear made Peter deny Christ; Abraham equivocate, David feign himself mad; fear will put men upon indirect courses, making them study rather compliance than conscience. Fear makes sin appear little, and suffering great, the fearful man sees double, he looks upon the cross through his perspective twice as big as it is; fear argues sordidness of spirit, it will put one upon things most ignoble and unworthy; a fearful man will vote against his conscience; fear infeebles, it is like the cutting off Samson’s locks; fear melts away the courage, Josh. 5:1. ‘Their hearts melt because of you;’ and when a man’s strength is gone, he is very unfit to carry Christ’s cross; fear is the root of apostasy. Spira’s fear made him abjure and recant his religion; fear doth one more hurt than the adversary; it is not so much an enemy without the castle, as a traitor within indangers it; it is not so much sufferings without, as traitorous fear within which undoes a man; a fearful man is versed in no posture so much as in retreating; oh take heed of this, be afraid of this fear, Luke 12:4. ‘Fear not them that can kill the body.’ Persecutors can but kill that body which must shortly die; the fearful are set in the fore-front of them that shall go to hell, Rev. 21:8. Let us get the fear of God into our hearts; as one wedge drives out another, so the fear of God will drive out all other base fear.
Thomas Watson, “Discourses upon Christ’s Sermon on the Mount,” in Discourses on Important and Interesting Subjects, Being the Select Works of the Rev. Thomas Watson, vol. 2 (Edinburgh; Glasgow: Blackie, Fullarton, & Co.; A. Fullarton & Co., 1829), 368–370. I agree with Watson, but I think he misses something which the quotation on Augustine grasps: There is an ontological basis of fear. There is a fear sprung from the utter otherness of God.
When the disciples are in the boat and Jesus calms the storm, they wonder what sort of man this is. The otherness of Jesus causes them to fear. They were not afraid that Jesus was going to hurt them; he had just saved their lives. They were afraid of his mere presence.
This helps understand Paul’s line that “flesh and blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of God.” We need an ontological transformation to be able to bear we are going.
The Great Divorce has a seen which captures some of this matter. When the insubstantial beings from hell come to heaven even the grass is too substantial, too real to bear:
As the solid people came nearer still I noticed that they were moving with order and determination as though each of them had marked his man in our shadowy company. ‘There are going to be affecting scenes,’ I said to myself. ‘Perhaps it would not be right to look on.’ With that, I sidled away on some vague pretext of doing a little exploring. A grove of huge cedars to my right seemed attractive and I entered it. Walking proved difficult. The grass, hard as diamonds to my unsubstantial feet, made me feel as if I were walking on wrinkled rock, and I suffered pains like those of the mermaid in Hans Andersen. A bird ran across in front of me and I envied
Lewis, C. S.. The Great Divorce (Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis) (p. 25). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition. If the mere grass will overwhelm our feet, what would the sight of the King do to our sight? And how utterly dangerous and other is God to us now.
The previous post on this sermon may be found here
He then concludes with the use of this doctrine that the graces, the worship of the Church is accepted (“Christ’s acceptation”).
First, as it common in Sibbes he notes the comfort and encouragement this brings:
Use 1. If so be that God accepts the performances and graces, especially the prayers of his children, let it be an argument to encourage us to be much in all holy duties.
Sibbes then makes an interesting observation about human psychology and motivation:
It would dead the heart of any man to perform service where it should not be accepted, and the eye turned aside, not vouchsafing a gracious look upon it. This would be a killing of all comfortable endeavours.
As I consider this observation, it may be that a tacit belief that our prayer has been valueless weakens our resolve to pray. And that, perhaps, stems from a defective theology and understanding of prayer:
James 4:3 (AV)
Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts.
Sibbes makes a related observation about why our prayers misfire:
But when all that is good is accepted, and what is amiss is pardoned, when a broken desire, a cup of cold water shall not go unrespected, nay, unrewarded, Mat. 10:42, what can we desire more? It is infidelity which is dishonourable to God and uncomfortable to ourselves, that makes us so barren and cold in duties.
Sibbes then comes to the second observation — which is related to his questioning of why our worship may “fail.” If we do hope to have our worship acceptable, then our lives must be kept clear of sin:
Use 2. Only let our care be to approve our hearts unto Christ. When our hearts are right, we cannot but think comfortably of Christ. Those that have offended some great persons are afraid, when they hear from them, because they think they are in a state displeasing to them. So a soul that is under the guilt of any sin is so far from thinking that God accepts of it, that it looks to hear nothing from him but some message of anger and displeasure. But one that preserves acquaintance, due distance, and respect to a great person, hears from him with comfort. Before he breaks open a letter, or sees anything, he supposes it comes from a friend, one that loves him. So, as we would desire to hear nothing but good news from heaven, and acceptation of all that we do, let us be careful to preserve ourselves in a good estate, or else our souls will tremble upon any discovery of God’s wrath. The guilty conscience argues, what can God shew to me, being such a wretch? The heart of such an one cannot but misgive, as, where peace is made, it will speak comfort. It is said of Daniel that he was a man of God’s desires, Dan. 9:23; 10:11, 19; and of St John, that Christ so loved him that he leaned on his breast, John 21:20. Every one cannot be a Daniel, nor one that leans on Christ’s bosom. There are degrees of favour and love; but there is no child of God but he is beloved and accepted of him in some degree.
In the worship of the temple, there were various rules which dealt with “uncleanness”, those things which kept one from being able to come worship. When one was unclean, there were rituals prescribed which permitted the worship to be cleaned and thus come into the fellowship of worship.
In 1 Corinthians 11, Paul writes about coming to the Lord’s Supper in a worthy manner:
1 Corinthians 11:27–34 (AV)
27 Wherefore whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. 28 But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup. 29 For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body. 30 For this cause many are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep. 31 For if we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged. 32 But when we are judged, we are chastened of the Lord, that we should not be condemned with the world. 33 Wherefore, my brethren, when ye come together to eat, tarry one for another. 34 And if any man hunger, let him eat at home; that ye come not together unto condemnation. And the rest will I set in order when I come.
But with Christ there is always the offer of pardon and being made clean to enter into his presence:
1 John 1:5–10 (AV)
5 This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. 6 If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: 7 But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.
8 If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. 9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 10 If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.
At this point, Sibbes but cannot help offer more encouragement to come to Christ.He does this by referring to something from the previous chapter:
But something of this before in the former chapter.
‘I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey,’ &c.
God not only accepts us, but delights in us:
That is, I have taken contentment in thy graces, together with acceptation. There is a delight, and God not only accepts, but he delights in the graces of his children. ‘All my delight,’ saith David, ‘is in those that are excellent,’ Ps. 16:3. But this is not all, Christ comes with an enlargement of what he finds.
He explains that Christ is the means by which the believer receives the blessing of God. All spiritual blessing is in Christ. The Spirit then communicates that blessing to those in union with Christ. And as that communion takes place, the capacity for the communion increases:
Those that have communion with Christ, therefore, have a comfortable communion, being sure to have it enlarged, for ‘to him that hath shall be given,’ Mat. 25:29.
And then there is the promise of future good when Christ comes at last:
It is not only true of his last coming, when he shall come to judge the quick and the dead, ‘I come, and my reward is with me,’ Rev. 22:12, but also of all his intermediate comings that are between.
Here is the real wonder: Christ accepts us and then lavishes good upon us. If we were permitted to visit the president or a king or queen or some other “important” person, we would think the honor of being accepted into their company honor enough. But when we come to Christ, he gives us his company and showers good upon us — and increases our capacity to receive the good:
When he comes to the soul, he comes not only to accept what is there, but still with his reward with him, the increase of grace, to recompense all that is good with the increase thereof. This made his presence so desired in the gospel with those that had gracious hearts. They knew all was the better for Christ, the company the better, for he never left any house or table where he was, but there was an increase of comfort, and of grace. And as it was in his personal, so it is in his spiritual presence. He never comes, but he increases grace and comfort.
What do we do with such information? We use it as encouragement to come to Christ:
Therefore, let us be stirred up to have communion with Christ, by this motive, that thus we shall have an increase of a further measure of grace. Let us labour to be such as Christ may delight in, for our graces are honey and spices to him, and where he tastes sweetness he will bring more with him.
Our present communion then fits us for future communion with him:
For, except there be a mutual joy in one another, there is not communion. Therefore Christ furnisheth his church with so much grace as is necessary for a state of absence here, that may fit her for communion with him for ever in heaven.
If we are receiving such good and comfort from Christ, how then should we respond? Joy. Paul says that we are to rejoice always. In what, that our name is written in the book of Life:
We ought to rejoice in the comforts and graces of others, and of ourselves.
He makes a subtle observation here: There are benefits we receive from the Spirit: (1) the grace he gives; and (2) the understanding, the realization of the grace he gives. It would be very disappointing to receive a great treasure and then never know that it was present. We become like Little-Faith of Pilgrim’s Progress who possessed a great jewel and yet lived in poverty, unless the Spirit give us knowledge of what we have:
He had need to stir her up to enjoy the comfort of her own grace; for they are two distinct benefits, to have grace, and to know that we have it, though one Spirit work both, 1 Cor. 2:12. The Spirit works grace, and shews us the things that God hath given us, yet sometimes it doth the one, and not the other. In the time of desertion and of temptation, we have grace, but we know it not; right to comfort, but we feel it not. There is no comfort of a secret, unknown treasure; but so it is with the church, she doth not always take notice of her own graces, and the right she hath to comfort.
We have need to have Christ’s Spirit to help us to know what good is in us.
At this point, Sibbes gives instruction which saves us from morbid introspection. We must examine ourselves. Some fail in this duty altogether. Others inspect, but only to find sorrow and sores, infection and failing. Sibbes gives different counsel:
And indeed a Christian should not only examine his heart for the evil that is in him, to be humbled; but what good there is, that he may joy and be thankful. And since Christ accepts the very first fruits, the earnest, and delights in them, we should know what he delights in, that we may go boldly to him; considering that it is not of ourselves, but of Christ, whatsoever is graciously good. Therefore we ought to know our own graces; for Christ, when he will have us comfortable indeed, will discover to us what cause we have to rejoice, and shew us what is the work of his own Spirit, and our right to all comfort.
An introspection which can both see the need of repentance and the good grace of the Spirit’s work will improve rather than become discouraged.
And then we should look around and rejoice in the good work of God in other people, in other circumstances. We should look in Creation and rejoice and praise God for his good work. We should look to providence and give God glory for his provision and protection, There is a wealth of good lying about us in which we could rejoice, if we were to only look.
Look then at those around you. Give God glory for the repentance of our own sins and the sins of others; of the growing in grace in our heart and in others. Look to the sky and the sea and ground and rejoice at all that God has done. It is the Devil’s work to be discontented. It is the work of children to rejoice in their Father’s World.
The previous post in this series may be found here.
MEDITATION XXXIV
Upon the Putting Out of a Candle
Light and darkness are in Scripture the two most usual expressions by which happiness and misery are set forth unto us. Hell and Heaven which will one day divide the whole world between them and become the sole mansions of endless woe and blessedness are described: the one to be a place of outward darkness, and the other an inheritance of light.
But it is observable also that as the happiness of worldly men and believes is wholly differing; so the light to which the one and the other is resembled is wholly discrepant. The happiness of the wicked worldling is compared to a candle which is a feeble and dim light, which consumes itself by burning, always put out by every small puff of wind. But the prosperity and happiness of the righteous is not, lucerna in domo, a candle in a house; but sol in Coelo, as the sun in heaven which though it may be clouded or eclipsed yet can never be extinguished or interrupted in its course, but that it will shine more and more onto the perfect day till it comes to the fullness of bliss and glory in heaven.
May we not then rather bemoan, than envy, the best condition of worldly man, who comes out of a dark womb into a dark world, and has no healing beams of the Son of Righteousness arising upon him to enlighten his paths or to direct his steps. What if he some few strictures of light which the creatures, that are no better than a rush candle, to seem to refresh him with, and in the confidence which he walks for a time — yet alas! How suddenly do the damps of affliction make such a light to burn blue and to expire and leave him as lost in the pitchy shades of anguish and despair? How do the terrors of darkness multiply upon him every moment all those evils that a restless fancy can suggest? He sees nothing and yet he speaks of ghastly shapes that stand before him: He cannot tell who hurts him, and yet he complains of the stinging of serpents, of the torments of fiery flames, or the wracking of his limbs.
If he have cordials put into his mouth, he spits them out again as if they were the gall of asps. Of if he have food ministered unto him, he wholly rejects it as that which will help to lengthen his miserable life. And yet die he dares not, lest worse things befall him.
If death approach, he then cries out as Crisorius in Gregory, a truce, a respect Lord until the morning. So great are his straits as that he knows now what to choose or where to fly. O that I could then affect some fond [foolish] worldlings with the vanity and sickness of their condition, who have nothing to secure them from an endless night of darkness but the wan and pale light of a few earthly comforts, which are ofttimes far shorter than their lives, but never can be one moment longer.
Have you no wisdom to consider that your life is but a span and that all your delights are not so much? Have you never read of a state of blessedness in which it is said that there shall be no night, and they need no candle, neither the light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign for ever and ever? Or are you so regardless of the future as that you will resolvedly hazard what can never fall out for the present satisfaction of some inordinate desires? Do you not fear the threatening of him who said, The candle of the wicked shall be put out.
O then while it si called today makes David’s prayer from your heart, say, Lord lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us, Thou shalt put gladness in my heart more than in the time my corn and wine increased.
We have all heard a good deal lately of the World Missionary Conference at Edinburgh. By far the strongest impression it made on my mind was that there is no real difference between the work of missions and the work of the Church at home, and that what we need is not a greater interest in missions but a greater interest in the Gospel—that is, in the truth that Christ has come into the world, the revelation of the Father, and that no deep or satisfying happiness can enter human hearts but that which enters with Him. Of course there are differences of men, racial, historical, cultural, but in the long run they do not count. It is not to the Briton or the German the Gospel is preached in Europe, or to the Chinaman or the Hindu in Asia; it is to the soul yearning for God, or perhaps hardened against God; it is with the same inspiration, the same hidden allies, the same antagonists, the same soul travail, the same hope, everywhere.
And with this word “hope” I will conclude, returning from the compassionate to the congratulatory side of our Saviour’s word. It is only a joyful religion which has a right to be missionary: only one which is conscious of having found the supreme good will be eager to impart it. But surely if we are conscious of having found the supreme good, or rather of being found by Him, it should make us glad and confident.
Some one said to me not long ago that he was struck with the number of hopeless ministers. There were so many men who had everything against them, who had an uphill fight, who despaired of making any more of it; they were pithless, apathetic, resigned; they entered beaten into the battle, or did not enter into it at all. I will say nothing unsympathetic of men whom it is not for their brethren to judge, but I will say this to every one who has accepted this vocation—that when we preach the Gospel it must be in the spirit of the Gospel. It must be with the sympathy of Jesus for all who are yearning after God, and with the certainty of Jesus that in Him there is the revelation of God which will bring happiness to all yearning souls. So preached, it cannot be in vain.
In Bengal and in Scotland, in our own race, and in the races most remote from our own, there are souls desiring to see the things that we see, and destined to be blessed with the vision. The evangelist’s is no calling for a joyless and dispirited man. “Blessed is the people that know the joyful sound: they shall walk, O Lord, in the light of Thy countenance.
James Denney, The Way Everlasting: Sermons (London; New York; Toronto: Hodder and Stoughton, 1911), 59–61.
This is why I am so earnest in my plea to you to learn the true and correct definition of Christ on the basis of these words of Paul: “who gave Himself for our sins.” If He gave Himself into death for our sins, then undoubtedly He is not a tormentor. He is not One who will cast down the troubled, but One who will raise up the fallen and bring propitiation and consolation to the terrified. Otherwise Paul would be lying when he says “who gave Himself for our sins.” If I define Christ this way, I define Him correctly, grasp the authentic Christ, and truly make Him my own. I avoid all speculations about the Divine Majesty and take my stand in the humanity of Christ. There is no fear here; there is sheer sweetness, joy, and the like. This kindles a light that shows me the true knowledge of God, of myself, of all creatures, and of all the wickedness of the kingdom of the devil.
“As it is on earth I must do good to others, so it must be in a manner suited to their earthly state. Souls are here closely united to bodies, by which they must receive much good or hurt. Do good to men’s bodies, if thou wouldest do good to their souls. Say not—Things corporeal are worthless trifles, for which the receivers will be never the better. They are things that nature is easily sensible of, and sense is the passage to the mind and will. Dost thou not find what a help it is to thyself, to have at any time any ease and alacrity of body; and what a burden and hinderance pains and cares are?
Labour then to free others from such burdens and temptations, and be not regardless of them. If thou must ‘rejoice with them that rejoice, and weep with them that weep,’ promote then thy own joy by helping theirs; and avoid thy own sorrows, in preventing or curing theirs.
But, alas! what power has selfishness in most? How easily do we bear our brethren’s pains and reproaches, wants and afflictions, in comparison of our own! How few thoughts, and how little cost and labour, do we use for their supply, in comparison of what we do for ourselves! Nature indeed teaches us to be sensible of our own case; but grace tells us, that we should not make so great a difference as we do, but should love our neighbour as ourselves.
Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
But be assured there is no Easter joy in the resurrection to the man who, the instant he conceives the Mediator as having been removed, knows nothing of Mary’s anguish, who does not feel himself to be unhappy, helpless, and wretched, with an intensity of feeling like hers. The first condition of participation in the joy of the resurrection lies in this, that after a man has been thoroughly convinced of his lost state, he passionately thirst for the grace of God and the assurance of eternal life,—that he feel and confess all the world can offer to relieve this craving is inadequate. As it was with Mary Magdalene in the instance before us, so he will never attain inward peace until he have met One who came down from heaven to earth, not only to announce in God’s name pardon to sinners, but who confirmed the cheering message in a manner that commended itself alike to both head and heart. And this One has appeared. The soul which finds itself in despair as to all human counsel and comfort, and yearns for some fixed grounds of hope, will infallibly and speedily discover Him in the Lord of the resurrection, and having done so, will ask nothing further of heaven or earth.
The Apostle tells us where to obtain life and joy — despite the sorrows and trials of this world:
1 Peter 1:3–9 (ESV)
3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, 5 who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, 7 so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, 9 obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
