W hen you come together to eat the Christians’ love suppers, these people are like hidden rocks that wreck a ship. They only think of themselves. They are like clouds without rain carried along by the wind and like trees without fruit in the fall of the year. They are pulled out by the roots and are dead now and never can live again.
Diese Unfläter prassen bei euren Liebesmahlen ohne Scheu, weiden sich selbst; sie sind Wolken ohne Wasser, von dem Winde umgetrieben, kahle, unfruchtbare Bäume, zweimal erstorben und ausgewurzelt,
Continue reading Report error