A figure stood there, but I could not recognise its appearance; a form loomed before my eyes. I heard a whispering voice:
After the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was a voice, a soft whisper.
I felt a draught on my face, and the hair on my body stood up.
‘Can a mortal be righteous before God? Can a man be more pure than his Maker? ’