It’s raining and raining, a grey and dreary day, doesn’t feel much like Labor Day weekend at all… which somehow brought this transplanted spiritual to my mind as a hymn to start the day. Transplanted from the Caribbean to the cold, grey waters around the northern British Isles. See the seals, and the chunks of ice floating around? That means it’s cold.
And the point is–they don’t get away with it. God will collect a bill of justice. And unless one accepts that Jesus Christ, God’s Son, has already paid it–well, not all of Hell is hot. Some of it is very terribly cold.