Sunday, November 23, 2025

The Wax Nose of “Infinity”: A Critique of the Misuse of Divine Infinitude in Theology and Its Consequences for Atonement and Eschatology

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

Introduction

Few theological terms have caused more confusion, equivocation, and inadvertent error than the word “infinite.” In philosophical theology, infinite has traditionally been applied to God’s being—a move that, if not understood carefully, can mislead both theologian and layperson alike. The term appears noble and venerable, but tradition has wrapped it in layers of conceptual ambiguity. Its modern mathematical meaning (“unending quantity”) competes with its classical metaphysical meaning (“unbounded, without defect”). The result is what Gordon H. Clark called a “nonsense term” when used incautiously, and what others have called a wax nose—a term flexible enough to be shaped into whatever argument one needs.

This essay seeks to accomplish four aims:

To clarify the original classical meaning of infinite as used by theologians.
To expose the modern quantitative meaning that often infiltrates doctrine unnoticed.
To show how the confusion between these two meanings undermines theological arguments, particularly the Anselmian claim that sin against an “infinitely majestic” God requires “infinite punishment.”
To argue that the term infinite should be either radically redefined or abandoned altogether, replaced with clearer concepts like “perfect,” “complete,” and “unchanging.”

The argument proceeds by showing that once infinite is properly understood in its classical sense, Anselm’s argument for eternal conscious torment collapses, because it depends on smuggling in the quantitative meaning of infinity. Theological language must therefore be purged of equivocation to maintain coherence and fidelity to Scripture.

1. The Classical Meaning of “Infinite”: Not Quantity, but Perfection

The first and most important point is this: the classical theological tradition does not use the word “infinite” in the modern mathematical sense of unending quantity or endless process. Thomas Aquinas, Augustine, Boethius, and the Reformed scholastics all used the Latin infinitas to mean “not finite,” which in turn means:

not limited
not defective
not composite
not dependent
not possessing unrealized potential

In classical metaphysics, infinite means fullness of actuality, not unbounded size or amount. It is a negative term (via negativa): God is “infinite” because He is not bounded by the limitations that characterize creatures.

Thus:

“Infinite” in classical theology = “perfect,” “complete,” “without defect or limitation.”

Yet in English, the plain meaning of infinite suggests:

endless increase
unending quantity
unbounded expansion
the mathematical infinite of the number line

This is why the term leads to confusion: it no longer means what classical theology intended. In the modern mind, infinite is nearly always taken quantitatively. The theologian’s meaning and the layman’s meaning have drifted so far apart that the word now functions ambiguously at best and deceptively at worst.

2. The Modern Mathematical Meaning of “Infinity”: A Contradiction to Classical Theism

Modern mathematics defines “infinity” as potential infinity—a process without limit:

counting forever
adding moments endlessly
extending time or number without completion

The key characteristic of mathematical infinity is that it is never complete. It is endless progression.

But classical theology defines God’s being precisely in terms of completeness, fullness, and the absence of potentiality. To say that God is “infinite” in the mathematical sense would contradict divine immutability, simplicity, and perfection. A God who grows, expands, or increases is not the God of Scripture or classical theism.

Thus:

The mathematical infinite is the opposite of the metaphysical infinite.

To call God “infinite” in the modern sense would make Him:

mutable
unactualized
incomplete
in process
not simple
not perfect

Therefore, theologians who use the word infinite but deny these implications are already using the term in a technical, non-mathematical sense—namely, as perfection.

3. Gordon H. Clark’s Critique: Infinity as a “Nonsense Term” Misapplied to God

Gordon H. Clark offers three crucial criticisms of the term infinite as applied to God:

A. Biblical Objection

Clark showed that none of the biblical texts the Westminster Confession appeals to actually say God is “infinite.”
For example:

Psalm 147:5: “His understanding is without number,” not “infinite.”
Job 22:5: “Thine iniquities are infinite” clearly does not mean literally infinite.
Nahum 3:9: “Infinite strength” in KJV is a bad translation.

Clark concludes that the Bible neither uses nor supports “divine infinity.”

B. Logical Objection

Clark argued that:

Infinity is a mathematical concept.
A truly infinite set can never be completed.
But God’s knowledge must be complete.
Therefore, God cannot have an infinite number of thoughts or propositions.

In his glossary:

“Infinite…a nonsense term. Nothing exists that is infinite.”
“If God were infinite, He could not know all things.”

In other words: infinity as quantity is incompatible with omniscience.

C. Methodological Objection

Clark accused some modern theologians of dishonesty: they affirm “God is infinite” but then redefine “infinite” to mean “perfect” or “complete,” which is not what the word means in normal English.

This is the “wax nose” problem: the term is so flexible that theologians can shape it however they want, often smuggling in illicit meanings.

4. The Wax Nose of Infinity: How Theologians Accidentally Smuggle in Quantitative Meaning

Even theologians who think they are using the classical definition frequently slip into the modern one when building arguments.

Why? Because the word itself invites quantitative interpretation.

Examples:

“God’s infinite love” becomes “love for every possible thing, even evil.”
“God’s infinite justice” becomes “justice requiring infinite punishment.”
“God’s infinite power” becomes “the power to do contradictions.”
“God’s infinite wrath” becomes “endless retributive anger.”

Each of these is a quantitative misunderstanding, not a metaphysical one.

The moment one uses the word “infinite,” the modern mind automatically thinks of size, amount, or duration.

This is precisely how Anselm’s argument for eternal punishment sneaks in a quantitative notion of infinity, even though the classical definition does not support it.

5. Anselm’s Argument and the Hidden Quantitative Infinity

Anselm’s classic reasoning in Cur Deus Homo is:

God is infinitely majestic.
Sin is therefore an offense of infinite magnitude.
A finite creature cannot make satisfaction for an infinite offense.
Therefore the punishment of the sinner is infinite (in duration).
Or only God can make satisfaction (which calls for the Incarnation and the God-man).

At first glance, this seems reasonable. But the logic only holds if “infinite” is used quantitatively at two crucial steps:

Step 2: “Infinite magnitude”
Step 4: “Infinite duration”

These are not metaphysical infinities; they are mathematical infinities.

Anselm begins with:

qualitative infinity (God’s perfection)

but quietly converts it into:

quantitative infinity (infinite offense)

and finally into:

temporal infinity (eternal punishment)

This is a textbook equivocation fallacy.

Once we restore the classical meaning of “infinite” as “perfect,” the argument collapses:

God is perfect in majesty.
Sin is a maximal offense.
Punishment must be fitting or perfect, not quantitatively infinite.

There is no logical pathway from perfection to infinite duration.

6. Why “Infinite Punishment” Is Conceptually Absurd

Punishment cannot be “infinite” in any coherent sense.

A. Infinite Duration = Mathematical Infinity

“Infinite punishment” is usually taken to mean:

unending temporal duration
a series of moments without limit
an unfinishable process
a potential infinite

This is the infinity of numbers, not the infinity of metaphysics.

B. Perfect Punishment ≠ Infinite Punishment

A perfect punishment is:

complete
fitting
just
resolved
finished

But “infinite duration” is never complete. It is always in progress.

Thus:

An endless punishment is, by definition, an imperfect punishment.

It never accomplishes its purpose.
It never resolves the offense.
It never reaches completion.

If divine perfection guides divine justice, punishment must be perfect, not endless.

7. The Proper Conclusion: Perfect Majesty Requires Perfect Punishment

Your insight is the corrective:

If the offense is against a perfectly majestic Being,
the punishment must be perfect, not infinite.

A perfect punishment may be:

proportional
purifying
restorative
corrective
temporary
aimed at the healing of the offender
fitting the moral order God wills to establish

But it need not, and indeed cannot, be infinite in the mathematical sense.

A perfect God administers perfect justice—not infinite suffering.

8. Examples of Theological Missteps Due to Quantitative Infinity

A. Jonathan Edwards

Edwards argued that since God is infinite, sin incurs infinite guilt, requiring infinite punishment. This explicitly equates God’s metaphysical infinity with infinite magnitude.

B. Certain Reformed Scholastics

Some used “infinite justice” as a justification for eternal hell, inadvertently invoking a quantitative notion inconsistent with perfection.

C. Popular Evangelical Apologetics

The phrase “infinite offense against an infinite God deserves infinite punishment” has become a slogan detached from its metaphysical roots.

In all these cases, infinity becomes a wax nose—stretched far beyond its classical sense.

9. The Way Forward: Abandoning or Radically Qualifying “Infinity”

Given all this, theologians should:

Option A: Abandon the term entirely

Instead of calling God “infinite,” describe Him as:

perfect
complete
unchanging
immutable
simple
fully actual
lacking nothing

These terms are clearer, biblical, and immune to quantitative distortion.

Option B: Use “infinite” only with severe qualification

If the term must be used (e.g. for historical continuity), it should be defined explicitly as perfection, not quantity.

But the safer route is simply to drop the term.

Conclusion

The term infinite, as traditionally applied to God, is conceptually unstable in modern contexts. Its classical meaning—“without defect or limitation”—has been eclipsed by its modern mathematical meaning—“unending quantity.” This shift has allowed theologians to smuggle quantitative concepts into doctrines where they do not belong, especially in the area of punishment, guilt, and atonement.

The most destructive example is Anselm’s argument for infinite punishment, which depends on equivocating between:

metaphysical infinity (perfection)
quantitative infinity (magnitude)
temporal infinity (duration)

Once infinity is restored to its proper meaning—or abandoned altogether—Anselm’s deduction collapses. We are left not with eternal conscious torment, but with the demand for perfect, fitting, morally complete punishment, consistent with God’s goodness, wisdom, and ultimate purposes.

In this light, “infinite punishment” is not only unnecessary—it is logically impossible. What remains is the perfection of divine justice, which, rather than expressing itself through endless torment, fulfills its purposes in a manner consistent with the character of a perfect, complete, and unchanging God.

Wednesday, October 29, 2025

A Biblical Critique of Hosea Ballou’s Theology of Atonement, Wrath, and Covenant Judgment

By William M. Brennan, Th.D., Reformed Universalist Theological Seminary

I. Introduction

Among the early American Universalists, few figures exerted greater influence than Hosea Ballou (1771–1852). Through his Treatise on Atonement (1805), Ballou became the chief architect of a rationalist and moral-influence Universalism that rejected both Trinitarian orthodoxy and the penal, substitutionary character of the atonement. His God was benevolent but never wrathful; His justice was moral suasion, not judicial holiness. Ballou’s system sought to vindicate divine goodness by abolishing wrath and reinterpreting the cross as revelation rather than redemption.

Yet, by removing wrath, Ballou removed the moral gravity of sin; by rejecting substitution, he dissolved the gospel’s heart. Scripture’s portrait of God—holy, covenantal, and redemptively wrathful—cannot be reconciled with Ballou’s sentimental Deism. The same divine love that saves also judges; the same fire that refines also consumes. This essay critiques Ballou’s view in light of Scripture, demonstrating that God’s wrath, far from contradicting love, is its necessary and restorative expression.

II. Hosea Ballou’s Theology Summarized

Ballou advanced several key propositions that define his departure from biblical orthodoxy:

Sin as ignorance, not depravity. Ballou denied original sin and insisted that human beings are not fallen but misinformed. Evil arises from misunderstanding rather than rebellion.
Atonement as moral influence. The cross is not a propitiation satisfying divine justice but a revelation of God’s love persuading humanity to repentance.
Reconciliation one-sided. God was never alienated from man; only man needed reconciliation.
No wrath, no punishment. Because God is love, He can never be wrathful. All suffering is natural consequence, not judicial penalty.
Universal restoration by enlightenment. Eventually, all souls will see the truth and return to God freely.

These assertions form a system that divorces salvation from covenant, grace from judgment, and mercy from justice.

III. The Biblical Witness to Divine Wrath

Scripture opens the gospel with wrath, not sentimental affection. Romans 1:18 declares:

“For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness.”

Here wrath (orgē Theou) is not impersonal consequence but the active judgment of a righteous God who hands sinners over to the fruit of their rebellion:

“Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanness… For this cause God gave them up unto vile affections… And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind” (Rom. 1:24, 26, 28).

The phrase “gave them up” denotes judicial action—God enforcing His moral order, not merely allowing natural effect. Humanity is not ignorant but willfully suppresses known truth (Rom. 1:19–21). Ballou’s moral-educational model cannot account for this culpable defiance.

Likewise, Ephesians 2:3 calls us “by nature the children of wrath,” signifying an inherent condition of alienation. The divine wrath is not caprice; it is holiness opposing corruption. To deny wrath is to deny God’s righteousness.

Hebrews 10:31 solemnly warns:

“It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.”

This is spoken not to pagans but to covenant breakers who “have trodden under foot the Son of God” (Heb. 10:29). Ballou’s claim that God never punishes contradicts the testimony of both Testaments: judgment is the moral outworking of divine holiness.

IV. Wrath and Covenant Judgment in Israel

The covenant history of Israel displays wrath as love’s instrument. From Sinai onward, God’s people were warned that obedience would bring blessing and disobedience curse:

“If ye will not hearken unto me, and will not do all these commandments… I will bring a sword upon you, that shall avenge the quarrel of my covenant: and when ye are gathered together within your cities, I will send the pestilence among you… and I will scatter you among the heathen” (Lev. 26:14, 25, 33).

Israel’s exile was not divine temper but covenant enforcement. Jeremiah 16:10–13 records God’s verdict:

“Because your fathers have forsaken me, saith the LORD… therefore will I cast you out of this land into a land that ye know not.”

This wrath, however, was never final. It was disciplinary, intended to purge idolatry and restore faithfulness. Isaiah 40:1–2 announces the completion of that process:

“Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the LORD’s hand double for all her sins.”

The “double” signifies full satisfaction—the completion of covenant chastisement. Israel “paid double,” not because God delights in punishment, but because justice had achieved its redemptive purpose.

This historical pattern exposes Ballou’s error. Divine wrath is not contrary to mercy; it secures mercy. God’s covenant faithfulness expresses itself both in judgment and in comfort. Without wrath, there would be no exile, no repentance, and no restoration.

V. The Fall and Human Inability

Ballou’s denial of the Fall undermines the biblical diagnosis of the human condition. Romans 5:12 declares:

“Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.”

This is not mere imitation of Adam’s mistake; Paul continues:

“By one man’s disobedience many were made sinners” (Rom. 5:19).

Adam’s guilt is representative and covenantal, just as Christ’s obedience is. Ballou’s reading—“because all individually sin”—ignores the parallelism of Adam and Christ that structures Paul’s thought. The universality of death proves the universality of guilt.

Ephesians 2:1–5 further declares:

“And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins… But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ.”

Death is more than ignorance; it is inability. Only divine regeneration can restore life. Ballou’s optimistic anthropology renders the new birth unnecessary and contradicts the testimony of Christ:

“Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3).

VI. The Necessity of Substitutionary Atonement

If wrath and guilt are real, then substitution is indispensable. Romans 3:25–26 explains:

“Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins… that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.”

The term propitiation (Greek hilastērion) refers to satisfaction of divine justice, echoing the mercy seat where atoning blood was sprinkled. Ballou dismissed this as “barbaric,” yet Scripture exalts it as the heart of the gospel.

Isaiah 53:5–6 prophesies:

“He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

The Servant bears divine judgment as substitute, fulfilling the pattern of sacrificial law. Peter confirms:

“Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God” (1 Pet. 3:18).

The cross is therefore both judicial and redemptive: justice satisfied, mercy unleashed. Without substitution, the atonement reveals love but accomplishes nothing.

VII. Judgment as Restorative, Not Merely Consequential

Ballou erred in equating judgment with vindictiveness. Scripture presents judgment as God’s instrument of restoration. Isaiah 26:9 teaches:

“When thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness.”

Likewise, 1 Corinthians 11:32 says,

“When we are judged, we are chastened of the Lord, that we should not be condemned with the world.”

Even divine wrath serves pedagogical grace: it purges sin to reveal righteousness. Hebrews 12:6 adds,

“For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.”

Thus, wrath is not the opposite of love but its severe form. The same fire that consumed Sodom refines Zion. God’s wrath and mercy operate toward one end—the restoration of holiness throughout creation.

In this sense, a truly biblical universalism must affirm wrath. The final reconciliation of all things (1 Cor. 15:28) comes through judgment, not by ignoring it. “When he hath put down all rule and all authority and power… the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death” (1 Cor. 15:24–26). Death is conquered only because Christ entered wrath and exhausted it.

VIII. The Consequences of Ballou’s Denial

By abolishing wrath and guilt, Ballou’s system unravels Christian theology:

Sin trivialized. If sin is ignorance, repentance becomes education rather than conversion.
Justice denied. Without judgment, moral order collapses; evil has no answer.
The cross emptied. If no penalty is borne, Christ’s death is illustrative, not redemptive.
Covenant severed. Without law and curse, there can be no grace or blessing.
Universalism rendered meaningless. If all are already reconciled, the term “salvation” loses significance.

Biblical universalism, by contrast, affirms both wrath and grace. It sees judgment as the fiery path to restoration. God’s wrath is not eternal torment but temporal and purgative discipline culminating in resurrection and renewal. Ballou, in rejecting wrath, severed the nerve of redemption itself.

IX. Conclusion

From Eden to Babylon to Calvary, Scripture reveals a consistent moral logic: divine wrath is the holy energy of love opposing all that destroys creation. Israel’s exile, the “double payment” of Isaiah 40:2, and Christ’s cross each display the same covenantal pattern—judgment unto mercy.

Ballou’s benevolent deity, incapable of wrath, cannot account for the exile, the cross, or the resurrection. The biblical God is both Judge and Savior. “Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God” (Rom. 11:22). His wrath is not His last word but the means by which His goodness triumphs.

The gospel proclaims that the wrath due to sin fell upon Christ, that death itself was judged, and that through that judgment all will ultimately be made alive. A universalism worthy of Scripture must therefore be Reformed and covenantal: one in which divine love fulfills, not abolishes, divine justice.

In the hands of the living God, wrath becomes restoration, and judgment becomes the doorway to everlasting life.

Notes

Hosea Ballou, A Treatise on Atonement (Boston: 1805), chaps. 5–7.
James Relly, Union; or, A Treatise of the Consanguinity and Affinity between Christ and His Church (London: 1759).
John Murray, Letters and Sketches of Sermons (Boston: 1812), esp. pp. 120–145.
Compare Ballou, Treatise, 17–18, with Romans 1:18–32 and Ephesians 2:1–5.
See Jonathan Edwards, The Justice of God in the Damnation of Sinners (1734), for the classic Reformed defense of divine wrath as moral necessity.
On covenant sanctions, see Leviticus 26; Deuteronomy 28; Jeremiah 16; Ezekiel 36.
Isaiah 40:2 interpreted as “double for all her sins” shows disciplinary completion, not excess punishment.
Romans 5:12–19 and 1 Corinthians 15:22 present federal headship as the framework of redemption.
Romans 3:25–26; cf. Hebrews 9:11–14.
Isaiah 53; 1 Peter 3:18; Galatians 3:13–14.
Isaiah 26:9; Hebrews 12:6; 1 Corinthians 11:32.
Romans 11:22 summarizes the dual nature of divine love—goodness and severity—as essential to true theodicy.

About the Author
Dr. William M. Brennan, Th.D., is the founder of the Reformed Universalist Theological Seminary and author of Hope for the Lost: The Case for Evangelical Universalism. He teaches theology and biblical studies with a focus on covenantal universalism, divine justice, and the problem of evil.

The Tragedy of Freedom: The Historical Drift of Arminianism and Its Failure as a Theodicy

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

I. Introduction

From Augustine to the Remonstrants, the problem of freedom and evil has haunted Christian theology. Arminianism arose in the seventeenth century as a protest against Augustinian determinism, seeking to vindicate God’s goodness through the preservation of libertarian free will. Yet the historical development of the Arminian tradition reveals a tragic irony: in attempting to rescue God from the charge of tyranny, it rendered Him impotent and morally inconsistent. The benevolent deity of Arminian thought permits the eternal ruin of billions to preserve the supposed dignity of creaturely choice. Such a God, far from being loving, appears self-regarding and indifferent.

Moreover, the Arminian reliance upon foreknowledge as the basis of election not only misconstrues the biblical text but evacuates divine sovereignty of meaning. Scripture consistently affirms both human inability and God’s unconditional predestination. The attempt to explain away these doctrines undercuts the very justice and goodness Arminianism sought to defend.

II. The Early Arminian Vision: Grace Restoring a Lost Freedom

Jacobus Arminius (1559–1609) maintained that fallen humanity was totally depraved and incapable of turning to God without divine initiative. His innovation lay in the doctrine of prevenient grace, an influence that precedes conversion and restores sufficient freedom for all persons to respond to God’s call.¹ Grace, in this view, is resistible; the will is synergistic with grace rather than monergistically regenerated.

The Remonstrant Articles of 1610 formally articulated this position, affirming that divine election is conditional upon foreseen faith.² God, according to this scheme, looks down the corridors of time, perceives who will freely believe, and elects them on that basis. Thus election becomes a divine ratification of human choice rather than its cause.

Yet this approach introduces insuperable moral and metaphysical difficulties. It postulates a God who foresees the universal fall, foreknows the eternal damnation of the majority, and nevertheless proceeds with creation—without any plan to redeem the totality of His handiwork. Divine goodness is thereby subordinated to the abstract principle of libertarian freedom.

III. The Wesleyan Refinement and Its Moral Paradox

John Wesley inherited Arminius’s framework but deepened its devotional and moral character. He affirmed total corruption but taught that Christ’s atonement restored prevenient grace to all.³ Salvation thus remains universally accessible yet perpetually resistible. In practice, Wesleyan Arminianism inspired evangelistic fervor and personal holiness, but philosophically it could not resolve the contradiction between divine benevolence and eternal loss. If God’s love is truly universal and His grace sufficient for all, how can He rest while any are finally lost? The divine permission of everlasting ruin becomes indistinguishable from indifference.

IV. The American Devolution: From Grace to Natural Ability

Nineteenth-century American revivalism carried Arminian theology to its logical but disastrous conclusion. Charles Finney (1792–1875) rejected inherited guilt and moral inability, insisting that sinners possess full natural power to repent.⁴ Grace became merely persuasive rather than regenerative. This shift from prevenient to motivational grace marked the transition from theological Arminianism to moralistic voluntarism.

In Finney’s system, divine love ceases to be redemptive power and becomes moral influence. The sinner is no longer dependent upon grace but upon his own decision. What began as a protest against fatalism ended as an exaltation of self-sufficiency. Thus Arminianism devolved into practical Pelagianism.

V. The Inadequacy of Arminian Theodicy

Even in its most sophisticated form, Arminianism fails to justify the ways of God to man. Its deity is omniscient yet chooses to actualize a world in which sin and eternal misery are foreknown and unredeemed. The claim that divine love requires the possibility of rejection empties love of its redemptive content. A parent who permits his children to destroy themselves eternally for the sake of preserving their “freedom” is not loving but callous.

Augustine’s determinism, for all its harshness, limited the experiment of free will to two individuals—Adam and Eve. The Arminian God repeats this experiment with billions, fully aware that most will perish. Thus Arminianism does not mitigate the problem of evil but multiplies it exponentially.

VI. Scriptural Testimony to Human Inability

The biblical witness is unequivocal concerning the moral and spiritual impotence of fallen humanity:

“There is none righteous, no, not one; there is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God” (Rom. 3:10–11, KJV).
“No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him” (John 6:44).
“The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God... neither can he know them” (1 Cor. 2:14).
“The carnal mind is enmity against God... neither indeed can be” (Rom. 8:7).

These texts affirm more than mere moral weakness; they assert inability—a radical incapacity that only divine grace can overcome. The Arminian claim that prevenient grace universally restores ability lacks explicit biblical support and renders these statements effectively meaningless.

VII. Scriptural Testimony to Divine Election

In contrast to the Arminian scheme of conditional election, Scripture presents election as sovereign, unconditional, and rooted in God’s eternal purpose:

“He hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world” (Eph. 1:4).
“According to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began” (2 Tim. 1:9).
“As many as were ordained to eternal life believed” (Acts 13:48).
“For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate... moreover whom he did predestinate, them he also called...” (Rom. 8:29–30).

In these passages, foreknowledge is not mere prescience but fore-love—God’s gracious determination to set His affection upon certain persons.⁵ The grammar of Romans 8:29 places foreknowledge and predestination in a causal sequence within God’s decree, not as an observational act of foresight. If election were conditional upon foreseen faith, then faith would precede divine choice, undermining Paul’s explicit statement that election “is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy” (Rom. 9:16).

VIII. The Inadequacy of “Foreknowledge” as the Ground of Election

The Arminian view of foreknowledge reduces divine omniscience to passive awareness. It imagines God as an observer of future contingencies, not as their ordainer. Yet such a conception is logically incoherent: if God merely knows what free creatures will do, His knowledge still makes those acts certain; and if they are certain, they are no longer indeterminate. Thus, conditional election collapses into either determinism or open theism.

Moreover, biblical “foreknowledge” (Greek proginōskō) carries the covenantal sense of intimate personal choice rather than abstract cognition. When Scripture says, “The Lord knew you” (Deut. 7:7–8; Amos 3:2), it denotes electing love, not neutral foresight. Therefore, to base election upon foreseen faith reverses the biblical order: faith is the fruit of election, not its cause (Acts 13:48; John 6:37).

IX. The Moral Consequences of the Arminian God

If God foreknows eternal torment for the majority yet elects not to intervene decisively, He becomes morally culpable by omission. To allow preventable evil for the sake of preserving a philosophical abstraction—libertarian freedom—is not love but self-regard. Arminianism thus exchanges divine sovereignty for divine sentimentality. The result is a theodicy in which God’s goodness is compromised, His power curtailed, and His purpose fragmented.

X. Conclusion: The Only Sufficient Theodicy

Both Calvinism and Arminianism falter at the same point: they leave evil with the last word for a portion of God’s creation. Calvinism attributes this to decretal reprobation; Arminianism to autonomous free will. But in either case, the final state of the cosmos is dualistic—evil and good coexisting eternally.

The only theodicy that preserves both divine sovereignty and divine love is one in which predestination aims at universal restoration (Eph. 1:10; Col. 1:20; Rom. 11:32). Election, rightly understood, is not the rejection of the many for the sake of the few but the choosing of the few for the redemption of the many. God’s foreknowledge is not passive observation but purposeful ordination “that God may be all in all” (1 Cor. 15:28).

Thus the tragedy of Arminian freedom is that it exalts the autonomy of the creature above the triumph of divine grace. A truly benevolent God would not rest until every lost soul is restored, for the love that allows eternal loss is no love at all.

Notes

Jacobus Arminius, Works, trans. James Nichols (London: Longman, 1825), 2:192–96.
“The Remonstrant Articles” (1610), in Creeds of Christendom, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Harper, 1877), 3:545–46.
John Wesley, Sermons on Several Occasions, Sermon 85, “On Working Out Our Own Salvation.”
Charles G. Finney, Systematic Theology (Oberlin, 1846), Lecture 17.
See John Murray, The Epistle to the Romans (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1959), 316–18; Richard B. Gaffin, “By Faith, Not by Sight” (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2006), 62–64.

Monday, October 27, 2025

Eternal Ontology and Covenant History: The Shared Error of Rellyan Universalism and Hoeksema's Hyper-Calvinism

By William M. Brennan, Th.D.

I. Introduction

The history of Christian soteriology reveals two seemingly opposed tendencies: the universalist inclusivism of James Relly (1722–1778), and the supralapsarian particularism of Herman Hoeksema (1886–1965). On the surface, these systems could not appear more divergent. Relly proclaimed that all humanity was already saved in Christ, while Hoeksema insisted that only the elect were ever truly the objects of God’s saving love. Yet upon closer examination, both systems share a deep structural affinity. Each transforms salvation from a covenantal and historical event into an eternal ontological reality, known only when the believer “comes to consciousness” of it.

This essay argues that both systems—Relly’s inclusivistic universalism and Hoeksema’s supralapsarian Calvinism—commit the same theological reduction: the collapse of redemptive history into metaphysical eternity. Scripture, however, insists that salvation is not merely recognized but received; not an eternal state but a temporal act of God’s grace applied through faith.

II. Relly’s Inclusivistic Universalism: Universal Decretal Realism

James Relly, mentor to John Murray (the Universalist preacher, not the Westminster theologian), taught that humanity as a whole was federally included in Christ. Drawing upon Pauline headship theology (Romans 5:12–19; 1 Corinthians 15:22), he reasoned that if all sinned in Adam, then all must be justified in Christ. The atonement was not substitutionary but inclusive—Christ’s obedience was the obedience of all mankind, accomplished vicariously and representatively.

For Relly, therefore, the world is not potentially saved but already saved in Christ. Faith is simply the awakening to this universal fact:

“Faith is the discovery, not the cause, of salvation.”

In his view, unbelief does not condemn but merely blinds a person to what is already true. Thus, the gospel is not an offer of salvation but a declaration of existing reconciliation.

This is an ontological universalism: all men are “in Christ” by divine act, and damnation is merely ignorance of one’s inclusion. Salvation is, therefore, not redemptive but revelatory.

III. Hoeksema’s Supralapsarian Calvinism: Particular Decretal Realism

Herman Hoeksema, founder of the Protestant Reformed Churches, constructed a supralapsarian system in which all redemptive acts are eternally complete in God’s decree. He denied the “well-meant offer” of the gospel, arguing that God’s grace is particular and never expressed toward the reprobate. The elect, he said, were never truly under wrath “in the sense of condemnation,” for they were eternally united to Christ in the counsel of God.

Thus, Hoeksema could write that the elect are “justified eternally in the mind of God,” though they come to conscious enjoyment of that justification through faith. Salvation in time, therefore, is not a real transition from wrath to grace, but a subjective realization of an already decreed, eternally existent relationship.

Like Relly, Hoeksema transforms the gospel from covenantal appeal to ontological revelation. His elect are eternally redeemed; faith does not justify but awakens to justification. The cross itself, in this view, does not effect reconciliation in time but discloses an eternal decree.

IV. The Shared Metaphysical Structure

Despite their opposite scope—Relly universal, Hoeksema particular—both systems share the same metaphysical core:

Category	Relly	Hoeksema
Scope	All humanity	Elect only
Nature of salvation	Universal inclusion in Christ	Eternal election in Christ
View of faith	Recognition of inclusion	Awareness of election
Function of gospel	Revelation of fact	Declaration of decree
Temporal transition	Denied	Denied
Wrath and grace	Apparent, not real	Apparent, not real

In both cases, salvation ceases to be a covenantal transition enacted by God in history and becomes instead a timeless metaphysical relation—either between humanity and Christ (Relly) or the elect and Christ (Hoeksema). This metaphysical monism erases the dialectic of promise and fulfillment, replacing the drama of redemption with the immutability of decree.

V. The Covenant-Historical Alternative

Orthodox Reformed theology maintains three inseparable but distinct dimensions of salvation:

Decree (Eternal Intention) — God’s purpose to redeem the elect (Ephesians 1:4–5).
Accomplishment (Historical Event) — Christ’s atoning death and resurrection (Romans 4:25).
Application (Covenantal Realization) — The Spirit’s temporal application of redemption through faith (Titus 3:5–7).

Faith is not a discovery of what one eternally possessed, but the Spirit-wrought instrument by which the believer is united to Christ and thus justified (Romans 5:1). This preserves both divine sovereignty and historical realism.

VI. Biblical Refutation of the “Already Saved” Conception

Scripture consistently presents salvation as a real temporal transition, not a mere awareness of an eternal state.

1. Justification Occurs in Time

“Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” — Romans 5:1
“By Him all that believe are justified.” — Acts 13:39
These texts clearly locate justification after faith, not before it.

2. Before Faith, All Are Under Wrath

“We were by nature children of wrath, even as others.” — Ephesians 2:3
“He that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him.” — John 3:36
The elect, like all others, were truly under wrath until reconciled through faith. Paul’s “we all” (Eph. 2:3) includes believers prior to regeneration.

3. Reconciliation Is Achieved, Not Merely Revealed

“When we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son.” — Romans 5:10
Reconciliation occurs “when” we were enemies—a change of state, not eternal stasis.

4. Union with Christ Is Historical, Not Merely Ideal

“In whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation: in whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise.” — Ephesians 1:13
Here union follows hearing and believing; it is not an eternal possession awaiting consciousness.

5. Faith as Instrument, Not Illumination

“To him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.” — Romans 4:5
Faith is the appointed means of justification, not the awakening to a preexisting justification.

6. Gospel as Sincere Offer, Not Mere Declaration

“Turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die?” — Ezekiel 33:11
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28
These invitations presuppose a genuine divine desire for repentance and faith, contradicting any notion that salvation is already possessed.

VII. The Theological Stakes

Both Relly and Hoeksema, though in opposite directions, collapse covenantal temporality into eternal ontology. In so doing, they undermine:

The moral seriousness of the gospel command,
The instrumentality of faith, and
The necessity of evangelism and repentance.

The Reformed tradition, by contrast, maintains that while salvation is decreed eternally, it is effected historically and applied personally. Christ’s cross is not merely revelatory but redemptive; faith is not realization but union.

VIII. Conclusion

The theological kinship between Relly’s universalism and Hoeksema’s hyper-Calvinism lies not in their outcomes but in their ontology. Both render salvation static—one eternally universal, the other eternally particular—while Scripture presents it as dynamic: decreed from eternity, accomplished in history, and applied in covenantal time.

The gospel call remains the gracious means by which the Spirit brings the elect into conscious, real participation in Christ’s justifying work. To deny this temporal transition is to empty salvation of its redemptive power and reduce it to metaphysical inevitability.

In the words of Paul, which refute both systems decisively:

“How shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher?” — Romans 10:14
“Now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” — 2 Corinthians 6:2

Salvation, therefore, is not eternally possessed awaiting recognition—it is graciously offered, effectually applied, and truly received in time, through faith, by the covenant mercy of God in Christ.

Saturday, October 25, 2025

The Atonement Limited or Universal? A Reassessment Based on its Covenantal Structure

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

I. Introduction

The doctrine of the atonement has too often been discussed in abstract terms of extent—whether it is universal or particular—without sufficient attention to its covenantal framework. Detached from covenant theology, the atonement becomes a question of numerical scope rather than covenantal identity. A truly biblical approach, however, recognizes that redemption is a covenantal transaction between God and His appointed Mediator. Christ did not die for atomized individuals considered apart from their covenantal relations, but as the surety and federal head of a divinely constituted corporate body—the covenant people of God.

Thus, the death of Christ cannot be understood merely as the redemption of discrete persons but as the ratification of the Covenant of Grace. In this covenantal structure, the atonement is neither “particular” in the atomistic sense nor “universal” in the indiscriminate sense. Rather, it is corporate and covenantal—limited to those in the New Covenant, but comprehending them as a whole under one representative Head.

II. The Covenant as the Framework of Redemption

Reformed theology rightly maintains that all divine-human relations are mediated through covenant. Humanity stands under one of two federal heads: Adam, in the Covenant of Works, or Christ, in the Covenant of Grace (Rom. 5:12–19). God never deals with human beings as isolated moral units but always as members of one covenantal order or another. Through Adam’s disobedience, sin and death entered the world; through Christ’s obedience, righteousness and life are bestowed.

Therefore, the atonement is not a universal moral provision waiting for individual acceptance, but a covenantal accomplishment grounded in federal representation. Christ’s death fulfills the stipulations of the covenant He mediates, securing its blessings for all whom He represents. Redemption, in this sense, is not an aggregate of private transactions but a single covenantal act with corporate implications.

III. The Mono-Pluric Nature of the New Covenant

The New Covenant, by its very nature, is mono-pluric—that is, one person fulfilling the covenantal conditions on behalf of a plurality of members. This structure echoes the federal arrangement of the first Adam, in whom the many were condemned (Rom. 5:18). Christ, the second Adam, meets the covenant’s demands for His covenantal body.

This mono-pluric principle lies at the heart of covenant theology: the “one for the many” dynamic that defines both judgment and redemption. In Adam, one man’s disobedience brought condemnation upon all who were in him; in Christ, one man’s obedience brings justification and life to all who are in Him (Rom. 5:19). Thus, the atonement operates not through individual substitution in isolation but through federal substitution within a covenantal union. Christ’s obedience, death, and resurrection are counted to the entire covenantal community because He stands as its covenantal head.

IV. The Institution of the Lord’s Supper and the Covenant Emphasis

This covenantal perspective is confirmed in the institution of the Lord’s Supper. Christ did not say, “This is the cup of my blood,” as if the salvific efficacy lay merely in the physical shedding of blood in isolation from its covenantal framework. Instead, He declared, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 22:20; cf. 1 Cor. 11:25).

By these words, Christ explicitly ties the atonement’s application not to His blood per se as a physical act, but to the covenantal reality that His blood seals and inaugurates. The blood is effectual precisely because it ratifies the New Covenant—it is “the blood of the covenant” (Matt. 26:28; Heb. 9:15–18). The power of the atonement, therefore, is covenantal in structure: the shedding of blood accomplishes redemption only insofar as it establishes and secures the covenantal relationship between God and His people.

This distinction guards against a purely sacrificial or transactional conception of the atonement detached from its covenantal framework. The efficacy of the cross is covenantal, not chemical; its virtue lies not merely in the existence of blood shed, but in what that blood signifies and seals—the inaugurated covenant of grace wherein all its members are comprehended.

V. The Corporate and Federal Character of Christ’s Work

Christ, as Surety (ἔγγυος) of the New Covenant (Heb. 7:22), undertakes all covenantal obligations on behalf of His people. His obedience unto death fulfills the covenant’s conditions, thereby securing its promises for all who are federally united to Him. In this sense, the atonement is both corporate and federal. Christ’s satisfaction was rendered not for an unconnected series of individual sinners, but for the covenantal body represented by Him from eternity.

This corporate dynamic mirrors the Adamic pattern: just as humanity fell collectively through one man’s disobedience, so the redeemed are restored corporately through one man’s obedience (1 Cor. 15:22, 45–49). Salvation, justification, and sanctification flow from this union with the covenant head. The atonement’s efficacy is therefore covenantal—its benefits are applied to all who are “in Christ,” just as guilt was applied to all who were “in Adam.”

VI. Particular Redemption Reframed in Covenantal Terms

Understanding the atonement covenantally reframes the debate over its extent. Christ’s death was particular not in the sense that it was designed for a predetermined list of isolated persons, but in that it was confined to the covenant community for whom He acts as mediator and surety. Those within the covenant of grace are the elect; their election is covenantal, their redemption federal, and their application of grace communal.

Therefore, to speak of “limited atonement” is, properly understood, to speak of the covenantal limitation of the atonement’s benefits to those in union with the Mediator. The limitation is not numerical but structural: the atonement’s efficacy extends as far as the covenant extends—no further and no less. As Herman Witsius wrote, “The covenant and its Mediator are coextensive; wheresoever the covenant is applied, the blood of the Surety is effectual.”

VII. The Inadequacy of Atomistic Individualism

When the covenantal structure is neglected, theologians often fall into what might be called soteriological atomism—treating salvation as a series of divine transactions with autonomous individuals. This framework obscures the biblical corporate solidarity that governs all redemptive acts. Scripture consistently portrays humanity as represented through covenant heads, not as an aggregation of self-contained moral agents.

In this light, Christ’s atonement must be understood as covenantally corporate: the “many sons” He brings to glory (Heb. 2:10) are members of His covenant body. Their salvation is not an afterthought but an entailment of their covenantal inclusion. The atonement accomplishes the redemption of the covenant as a whole, and individuals partake of that redemption only by being incorporated into that covenant through faith—a faith that itself is the gift of the covenantal Spirit.

VIII. Conclusion

The corporate, covenantal nature of the atonement restores the unity and coherence of biblical soteriology. Christ died not as a solitary benefactor for detached individuals, nor as a universal Savior for an undifferentiated humanity, but as the covenantal Head and Surety of the New Covenant—a mono-pluric covenant in which one fulfills all righteousness for the many.

By His words at the Supper—“This cup is the new covenant in my blood”—Christ identified His atonement as the ratification of the covenantal order that secures the redemption of its members. Thus, the atonement is neither strictly universal nor merely particular in the atomistic sense; it is covenantally particular and corporately universal—particular to the New Covenant community, yet universally efficacious for all within it.

In the economy of grace, God never views men apart from covenant: those still in Adam remain under the covenant of works and its condemnation; those in Christ partake of the covenant of grace and its redemptive blessings. Within this federal and corporate framework, the atonement finds its true theological home—the once-for-all act of the one Mediator whose obedience and blood secure eternal redemption for His covenant people.

The Proper Use of the Doctrine of Divine Wrath and Judgment

William M. Brennan, Th.D.

Introduction

The doctrine of divine wrath has often been mishandled—either by those who depict God as an irascible despot or by those who, in the name of benevolence, erase wrath from the divine character altogether. Both extremes distort the biblical witness. The former denies the restorative intent of divine judgment; the latter denies the reality of divine holiness. In Scripture, God’s wrath is neither arbitrary nor contrary to His love but is rather its necessary corollary—the moral intensity of perfect goodness opposed to all that is evil. Properly understood, wrath and judgment are real, not metaphorical; yet they are remedial, not retributive in the merely penal sense.

I. Wrath as the Necessary Correlative of Divine Holiness

The holiness of God is not a mere moral attribute but the very integrity of His being. “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.”¹ The light of divine holiness, when shining upon moral darkness, necessarily manifests itself as wrath. Anselm of Canterbury described God’s justice as “the rectitude of will kept for its own sake.”² For God to ignore sin would be to compromise His own nature. Thus, wrath is not an emotion but a metaphysical necessity: it is holiness in relation to moral disorder.

Habakkuk’s confession that God is “of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity”³ expresses this divine incompatibility with sin. Yet this aversion to evil is not contrary to love—it is love’s indispensable expression. Augustine wrote that “he who loves rightly must hate what destroys the object of his love.”⁴ Divine hatred of evil is therefore an aspect of divine benevolence. Without such opposition, love would collapse into indulgence and God’s righteousness would become sentimental weakness.

II. The Judicial Function of Wrath in the Divine Economy

In the biblical economy, wrath is revealed not only as eschatological but as historically active. Paul declares that “the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men.”⁵ Divine judgment, though often manifested in temporal events—the Flood, the Exile, the destruction of Jerusalem—is never purely punitive. These judgments serve a pedagogical purpose, functioning as divine discipline intended to bring about repentance.

Isaiah affirms this restorative design: “When thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness.”⁶ Judgment is therefore corrective and covenantal rather than merely retributive. God’s wrath exposes sin’s futility, breaks human pride, and restores the sinner to moral and spiritual health. The metaphor of purgation aptly expresses this: the fire of judgment burns away corruption in order to heal the soul, much as a surgeon’s cautery restores health through pain.

III. The Inadequacy of Sentimental Universalism

While patristic and modern universalists alike have insisted upon the ultimate triumph of divine mercy, certain contemporary forms of universalism err by failing to integrate wrath and love within a single divine purpose. Such “sentimental universalism” tends to conceive salvation as automatic, neglecting the moral seriousness of sin and the necessity of divine judgment.

This deviation stands in contrast to the deeper universalist tradition found in Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, and Isaac of Nineveh, all of whom saw judgment as a purgative manifestation of love.⁷ To deny wrath is to deny the cross, for Calvary is the supreme revelation of divine judgment borne by divine mercy. Karl Barth observed that “the wrath of God is the shadow side of His love; it is love itself in its consuming holiness.”⁸ The crucifixion demonstrates that divine justice and mercy are not antithetical but unified—love judging sin in order to redeem the sinner.

Any universalism that cannot reconcile benevolence with judicial severity severs love from holiness, transforming God into a moral abstraction. A God who does not oppose evil ceases to be good. As the writer to the Hebrews declares, “Our God is a consuming fire.”⁹ The same fire that destroys dross purifies gold; the same holiness that condemns evil restores the good that evil has deformed.

IV. The Remedial End of Judgment

The telos of divine judgment is not perpetual destruction but universal restoration. “When all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject…that God may be all in all.”¹⁰ Judgment thus serves the eschatological purpose of reconciliation. The “everlasting fire” of which Scripture speaks is not an eternal contradiction within God but an unending revelation of His purifying presence. Gregory of Nyssa interpreted the fire of judgment as “a purgation of evil…leading every nature to that which is proper to it.”¹¹

Temporal judgments foreshadow this ultimate purification. God’s wrath is not a denial of His benevolence but its dynamic operation within time. Through judgment He opposes all that resists His will, so that through mercy He may restore all things to harmony. Divine wrath, then, is teleological: it aims at healing. Even the severest judgments are manifestations of prevenient grace, designed to eradicate the disease of sin that separates the creature from the Creator.

V. Conclusion: Love Without Hatred of Evil Is Not Love

To eliminate wrath from theology is to destroy the moral realism of Christian faith. A God who loves without hating evil is neither holy nor just. The wrath of God is the intensity of His love toward the good and His opposition to all that violates it. Judgment, therefore, is not the contradiction of mercy but its instrument.

In the final analysis, the divine wrath is the fire of divine love in its remedial mode. It purifies creation until nothing remains contrary to the divine nature. As the Lamentations affirm, “Though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies.”¹² In this mystery, justice and mercy meet without contradiction: the wrath that terrifies also heals, and the judgment that slays also raises to life.

Notes

1 John 1:5 (KJV).
Anselm of Canterbury, Cur Deus Homo, I.12.
Habakkuk 1:13 (KJV).
Augustine, City of God, XIV.6.
Romans 1:18 (KJV).
Isaiah 26:9 (KJV).
Gregory of Nyssa, On the Soul and Resurrection; Isaac of Nineveh, Ascetical Homilies II.39.
Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, II/1 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1957), 370.
Hebrews 12:29 (KJV).
1 Corinthians 15:28 (KJV).
Gregory of Nyssa, The Great Catechism, ch. 26.
Lamentations 3:31–32 (KJV).

Bibliography

Anselm of Canterbury. Cur Deus Homo. In Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998.
Augustine. The City of God. Translated by Henry Bettenson. London: Penguin Classics, 2003.
Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics, Vol. II/1. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1957.
Gregory of Nyssa. The Great Catechism. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series II, Vol. 5. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980.
Gregory of Nyssa. On the Soul and Resurrection. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series II, Vol. 5. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980.
Isaac of Nineveh. The Ascetical Homilies of Saint Isaac the Syrian. Translated by Dana Miller. Boston: Holy Transfiguration Monastery, 1984.
Scripture quotations from the King James Version.