His winnowing-fan is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing-floor, and store his grain in the barn, but the chaff he will burn with inextinguishable fire."
If any one does not remain united to me, he is thrown away, as a branch would be, and withers up. Such branches are collected and thrown into the fire, and are burnt.
These are the men who are blots upon your 'Love-feasts,' when they feast together and provide without scruple for themselves alone. They are clouds without rain, driven before the winds; they are leafless trees without a vestige of fruit, dead through and through, torn up by the roots;