It stood still, but I could not tell the form of it. An image was before my eyes; silence; then I heard a voice,
And after the earthquake was a fire, but Jehovah was not in the fire. And after the fire was a still, small voice.
And a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up.
Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker?