Chapter 28: Heaven and Hell Are the Same Reality

I used to think of heaven and hell as two separate places. One up, one down. One bright, one dark. One where God lives and one where God doesn’t. And that picture was comforting in its simplicity, because it meant the saved people would be here and the damned people would be there, and the two would never meet, and the suffering would be far enough away that you didn’t have to think about it.

But then I read Revelation 14:10 and the whole picture collapsed.

“The same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of his indignation; and he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb.” (Revelation 14:10)

In the presence of the holy angels. In the presence of the Lamb. Not away from. Not separated from. Not in a distant location where God’s light doesn’t reach. In the presence. And once I saw that, I couldn’t unsee it. And the framework started building something I never expected.

I need to be honest about something before I go any further. For thirty years, I could not decide between eternal conscious torment and annihilationism (also called conditional immortality). I went back and forth. Both sides had real verses. Both sides had arguments I could not refute. And I simply said “I don’t know.” I did not arrive at what follows by picking a side and finding proof texts. I arrived at it by applying the sentence to the question and writing this chapter. The sentence resolved what all that wrestling could not. And what it produced is a position that neither camp holds, because neither camp starts from the same ground.

Heaven and hell are not two places. They are the same reality experienced through different firmware.

The Re-Rendering

Everything we’ve built in this book leads here. The physical world is a rendering of God’s thought. The invisible is more real than the visible. The current rendering operates under constraints — what Chapter 3 called the rendering engine. It renders information into matter, thoughts into experience, the eternal into the temporal. And it does so with limitations. We see through a glass darkly. We process reality at low resolution. The rendering engine, for now, is constrained.

But Scripture promises a new rendering.

“And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.” (Revelation 21:1)

A new heaven and a new earth. Not a different place. A new rendering of the same reality. God’s thought doesn’t change — He doesn’t throw away the old creation and start over with a different thought. He upgrades the rendering engine. The same information, rendered at full resolution. The same thought, without the constraints.

And when the rendering engine upgrades, every conscious being in the creation will experience the new reality. Every being. Not just the saved. Not just the elect. Every creature that exists as a thought in the mind of God will experience the new rendering, because God doesn’t stop thinking thoughts. The reprobate don’t cease to exist. They can’t. They are thoughts in the mind of God, and God doesn’t forget. He doesn’t discard. He doesn’t annihilate. The thought persists. But the rendering upgrades.

And this is where the two seeds, the three groups, and the firmware determine everything.

Same Reality, Different Firmware

In Chapter 12, we established that there are three groups in the final creation. Elect angels, created impeccable, with firmware that was never corrupted. Elect humans, created sinful, redeemed by Christ, regenerated by the Spirit — their old firmware overwritten with new code. And the reprobate, created sinful, never redeemed, the old firmware the only firmware they have ever had or ever will have.

Now think about what happens when the rendering engine upgrades to full resolution.

The elect angels experience the new rendering through impeccable firmware. They always have. Nothing changes for them except that the rendering gets more glorious. The constraints are removed, and what was always true becomes more visible than ever. Glory upon glory.

The elect humans experience the new rendering through new firmware — the new man, the regenerated nature, the code that was installed at the new birth. The old firmware is gone. The sin nature is removed. For the first time, the elect human processes reality without interference, without corruption, without the old code competing for control. What Paul called “the body of this death” is shed, and what remains is pure signal. New firmware at full resolution. That is heaven.

The reprobate experience the new rendering through old firmware — the sin nature, the corruption, the only code they have ever run. And here is the critical point: the old firmware was never designed to process reality at full resolution. It was designed for the constrained rendering. For the low-resolution, darkened-glass, temporal experience of this present age. And in this age, the old firmware functions. It produces misery and sin and rebellion, but it functions within the rendering constraints.

Remove the constraints, and the old firmware doesn’t function anymore. It crashes. Not in the sense of ceasing to exist, but in the sense of experiencing reality it was never built to handle. Like running software written for a small screen on an infinite display. Every flaw is exposed. Every bug is visible. Every corruption is rendered in excruciating detail. Not because God is adding punishment from outside. Because the firmware is the punishment when the resolution increases.

The fire is God’s presence experienced through corrupted firmware. Hell is not distance from God. Hell is proximity to God without the firmware to process Him. The same sun that melts wax hardens clay. Same sun. Different material.

The Fire IS His Presence

Let me drive this home, because it contradicts what most people have been taught.

The common teaching is that hell is separation from God. That the damned are sent away from God’s presence into outer darkness, and the punishment is the absence of God. And 2 Thessalonians 1:9 is the verse they cite:

“Who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power.” (2 Thessalonians 1:9)

“From the presence of the Lord.” And the assumption is that “from” means “away from.” Sent away. Removed. Banished to a place where God isn’t. But the Greek word apo can mean “proceeding from” just as easily as it can mean “away from.” The destruction proceeds from the presence of the Lord. It comes from Him, not away from Him. The fire originates in His presence. The wrath proceeds from His glory.

And Revelation 14:10 is explicit. There is no ambiguity. The torment happens in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb. Not away from the Lamb. In the Lamb’s presence. If Revelation 14:10 says the torment is in God’s presence and 2 Thessalonians 1:9 seems to say it’s away from God’s presence, the clearer verse interprets the less clear. And Revelation 14:10 could not be clearer. The fire and brimstone and the Lamb are in the same room.

This fits the framework perfectly. If reality is a thought in the mind of God, then nothing exists outside of God’s thought. There is no location that is “away from” God. There is no space that God does not fill. “Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there” (Psalm 139:7-8). Even in hell, God is there. The psalmist already knew what the framework derives: there is no escape from God’s presence because there is nothing outside of God’s thought.

Hell is not the absence of God. Hell is the fullness of God experienced by those who have no capacity to receive Him. The fire is not instead of God. The fire is God, to those whose firmware cannot process Him as anything else.

The Saints Reign

And here is the part that makes people uncomfortable.

“And hast made us unto our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the earth.” (Revelation 5:10)

“Blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection: on such the second death hath no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ, and shall reign with him a thousand years.” (Revelation 20:6)

“Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world? . . . Know ye not that we shall judge angels?” (1 Corinthians 6:2-3)

The saints reign. Over the earth. With Christ. Judging the world. Judging angels. This is not metaphor. This is the final arrangement. In the re-rendered creation, the elect humans, clothed in new firmware, will reign with Christ over the vessels of wrath in the same reality. Not from a distance. Not in a separate location. In the same creation. The same rendering. Different positions within it.

And every knee will bow.

“That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Philippians 2:10-11)

Every knee. Not willingly. Not in worship. But undeniably. At full resolution, there is no room for denial. The rendering makes the truth unavoidable. Every tongue confesses. Every knee bows. Not because the heart has changed — the old firmware doesn’t change. But because the resolution is so high that the reality of Christ’s lordship is impossible to ignore. It is compulsory acknowledgment, not willing worship. The saint falls on his face in joy. The reprobate falls on his face in subjection. Same floor. Same Lord. Different firmware.

The Curse and the Condemnation

And here is how the framework resolves a tension that has divided the church for centuries: is hell eternal conscious torment, or is it destruction? Is it everlasting punishment, or does it end?

Both. And the resolution is in the distinction between the curse of the law and the condemnation of the gospel.

We introduced them in Chapter 12, and now they reach their full expression. They are not the same. They do not have the same weight. And they do not have the same duration.

The curse of the law is the measured, proportional penalty for transgression. It corresponds to deeds. It has limits.

“Reward her even as she rewarded you, and double unto her double according to her works: in the cup which she hath filled fill to her double.” (Revelation 18:6)

“According to her works.” “Double.” This is measured. Proportional. It can be quantified. The curse of the law falls on every person who breaks God’s law, and for the elect, Christ bore it fully. For the reprobate, it falls on them directly. And because it is measured, because it corresponds to deeds, it has a terminus. It runs its course. When the payment matches the debt, the curse of the law is exhausted.

“Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing.” (Matthew 5:26)

“Till thou hast paid.” Not “for eternity with no end.” Until the payment is complete. The curse of the law is real, it is painful, it is just. But it has an end. And the “destruction” passages in Scripture — the passages that sound like annihilation, like an ending, like a cessation of punishment — correspond to the measured curse completing its work.

The condemnation of the gospel is different. It is not measured. It is not proportional. It is eternal. The same gospel that is the savour of life unto life for the elect is the savour of death unto death for the reprobate (2 Corinthians 2:15-16). And that condemnation exceeds the curse of the law.

“And many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.” (Daniel 12:2)

Shame. Contempt. Everlasting. Not torment. Not fire. Not active punishment. Shame and contempt. This is not the measured penalty for specific sins. This is the permanent state of being known for what you are, forever, under authority you cannot escape.

Think about what this means in firmware terms. Old firmware at full resolution — as we established above — produces exposure. Not necessarily pain in the sense of active torture, but awareness. Total, permanent, inescapable awareness of the grace you cannot receive. The saints shining in glory around you. The Lamb on the throne above you. And you, fully known, fully exposed, fully under authority, with firmware that can never process any of it as anything other than what it is: the permanent display of what you are.

The “destruction” passages describe the measured curse of the law completing. The active torment runs its course. The debt is paid. The “eternal” passages describe the condemnation that remains. Shame. Contempt. Subjection. Awareness without capacity. Knowledge without reception. Proximity without communion.

Both true. No contradiction. The traditional debate between eternal conscious torment and annihilationism (conditional immortality) is a false dilemma. It’s both. Measured torment that ends, followed by eternal conscious experience of subjection and exposure. Not torture without end. But awareness without end. And in the economy of the framework, that is arguably worse. Because the torture at least implies engagement. The eternal state is simply being known for what you are, forever.

Both Vessels Necessary

“What if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction: And that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory?” (Romans 9:22-23)

Both vessels are necessary. Both display something about God that the other could not. The vessels of mercy display God’s grace and love. The vessels of wrath display God’s justice and power. And both are needed for the full display of God’s glory. Mercy is only visible because wrath is visible. Grace is only comprehensible against the backdrop of judgment. Light only means something because darkness exists.

This is not cruelty. This is authorship. The Author writes both characters because the story requires both. The hero is only heroic because the villain exists. The rescue is only meaningful because the danger was real. And in the final rendering, when the full story is told at full resolution, both vessels contribute to the display that the Author intended from the beginning.

The saints don’t look at the reprobate and think, “It could have been me.” It couldn’t have been. The seeds are different. The elect human was never a candidate for reprobation. The reprobate was never a candidate for election. They are different thoughts in the mind of God, authored for different purposes, carrying different firmware, destined for different experiences within the same reality. And the response of the saints to the judgment of the wicked is not somber reflection. It is praise.

“And after these things I heard a great voice of much people in heaven, saying, Alleluia; Salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the Lord our God: For true and righteous are his judgments: for he hath judged the great whore, which did corrupt the earth with her fornication, and hath avenged the blood of his servants at her hand. And again they said, Alleluia. And her smoke rose up for ever and ever.” (Revelation 19:1-3)

Alleluia. The saints say Alleluia over the judgment. Not because they are cruel. Because they are righteous. Because the new firmware processes judgment as justice, not as tragedy. Because the imprecatory Psalms — the Psalms that call down wrath on the enemies of God — are appropriate in the mouths of people who share God’s perspective on sin. The full display of God’s glory in both directions: mercy to the vessels of mercy, justice to the vessels of wrath. And the Alleluia is the appropriate response to both.

The Glass

There is a metaphor that captures the final state more honestly than anything I’ve been able to derive from theology alone. And it begins in the garden.

“And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.” (Genesis 2:25)

Before the fall, there was no glass. No barrier. No management. Adam and Eve stood before God and before each other naked and not ashamed. Fully seen. Fully known. No curator. No hiding. The relationship between creature and Creator was unmediated.

Then sin entered. And the first thing Adam and Eve did was cover themselves. “And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons” (Genesis 3:7). Then they hid. “And Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden” (Genesis 3:8). The glass went up. The curator was born.

The curator is the part of the conscious mind that manages what is revealed and what is hidden. Every person you have ever met has shown you a managed version of themselves. The smile that hides the grief. The confidence that hides the doubt. The composure that hides the rage. That management is the curator — the application layer standing between who you really are and what you let the world see. Everyone has one. Everyone uses it. Every relationship, every conversation, every public moment is filtered through the curator before it reaches the outside. The glass is the curator’s wall. And it was erected in Genesis 3. The first act after the fall was the construction of the first glass.

In this life, even the elect live behind glass. The Spirit flashes the firmware at regeneration, and the barrier thins. But it never fully dissolves. “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known” (1 Corinthians 13:12). Through a glass. Darkly. And notice what Paul says: “then shall I know even as also I am KNOWN.” The glass is not one-directional. It blocks seeing AND being seen. When it comes down, both barriers dissolve simultaneously.

God has always seen the elect in Christ. From eternity. The justification was never in question (Chapter 15). But the elect didn’t always see THEMSELVES that way. The old firmware produced shame. The curator built walls. The glass went up because the elect, in their temporal experience, felt the weight of the old firmware and managed their exposure accordingly.

The entire history of redemption is the story of God working to bring the glass back down. The covenants. The sacrifices. The incarnation. The cross. The Spirit. All of it — every frame of the filmstrip from Genesis 3 to Revelation 21 — is the Author dismantling the glass that sin erected.

And in the higher resolution rendering, the glass comes down. For everyone. Permanently.

For the elect, the glass comes down and it is glory. Two things make it glory instead of horror. First, God has always seen them in Christ. The covering was never in question. From eternity, the elect were clothed in Christ’s righteousness — so when the glass comes down and they stand fully exposed, what is exposed is not their sin but their Savior. Second, the old firmware is removed. The curator is dismissed. The new firmware — the new man, the regenerated nature — is all that remains, and it was built to process the full resolution of God’s presence. The elect can handle the glass being down because they were given firmware that thrives in the light. They see God face to face. And God sees them, clothed in Christ, with nothing between. Back to Genesis 2:25. Full circle. The end of the story is the beginning of the story, at higher resolution.

For the reprobate, the glass comes down and it is horror. The curator is dismissed for them too. The fig leaves are gone. The trees are gone. There is nowhere to hide. They stand fully exposed, fully seen, fully known for what they are — and they have neither covering nor upgrade. No Christ. No imputed righteousness. No new firmware. The old firmware is the only firmware they have ever had, and it was never built to process what they are now seeing. The shame that Adam felt in Genesis 3 becomes permanent and total. They are in the presence of the Lamb (Revelation 14:10). They see the glory. And the glory sees them. Naked. Uncovered. Known. And the old firmware — which can never process that glory as anything other than torment — runs at full resolution forever.

And this has happened before in Scripture, in miniature. At Sinai, while Moses was on the mountain receiving the law, the people made a golden calf and worshipped it. And when Moses came down, the text says something that most commentators skip past:

“And when Moses saw that the people were naked; (for Aaron had made them naked unto their shame among their enemies:)” (Exodus 32:25)

Naked unto their shame among their enemies. Aaron had made them naked. The covering was gone. The curator was dismissed. And what was left was the same nakedness Adam felt in Genesis 3, the same exposure the reprobate will feel in the final state, rendered in one day at the foot of the mountain. God saw them. Their enemies saw them. And three thousand of them died before sunset (Exodus 32:28). The glass came down for them in the middle of the wilderness, and there was no covering underneath it.

Exodus 32 is not just a story about idolatry. It is a preview of the final state of the reprobate. The shame is the primary experience. The exposure is total. The enemies are watching. And the final state is that day extended forever.

This is arguably the most precise description of the final state the framework can produce. Not fire as the primary experience, though the imagery of fire is real. Not torture as an end in itself, though the measured curse of the law is real. But the permanent, conscious, inescapable experience of the glass coming down for everyone — and the difference between glory and shame being the presence or absence of two things: Christ’s covering and the firmware to handle the exposure.

The glass came down. For both. The covering made the difference. And both were authored before the first fig leaf was sewn.

The Verse Nobody Touched

And here is the part that stopped me cold when I first noticed it. Nobody has done this with the verse before.

“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)

The verse has been in the canon for two thousand years. Every theologian who has ever lived has read it. Augustine read it. Calvin read it. Edwards read it. Spurgeon read it. Grudem reads it. And every one of them treated it as a line about epistemological limitation. We know in part now. We will know fully later. Our understanding grows at glorification. Move on to the next verse.

Nobody asked what the glass IS. Nobody asked whether it blocks vision in both directions. Nobody asked what it would feel like for the glass to come down. They read Paul’s word as a poetic illustration of partial knowledge and walked past it.

But read the whole verse. “Then shall I know even as also I am known.” The glass is not one-directional. It blocks seeing AND being seen. When it comes down, both barriers dissolve at the same moment. And that single detail, which any literate believer can see the moment he reads the verse honestly, generates the entire eschatology of this chapter. The final state is exposure. For everyone. The curator is dismissed. The fig leaves are gone. The hiding is over. And the only thing that determines whether the exposure is glory or horror is the covering and the firmware underneath it.

Paul wrote that line in the first century. The church has been reading it ever since. And no systematic theology I have been able to find has built an eschatology out of it. The verse is quoted in devotional books. It is quoted at weddings and funerals. It is printed on greeting cards. And it has been treated as decoration, not architecture, by every man who has ever handled the canon.

I say this to make a point about the method, not to boast. The canon is full of metaphors the tradition has treated as illustration when they were architecture all along. The filmstrip is already in Psalm 139:16 — every frame of my life written in God’s book before one of them played. The rendering engine is already in Hebrews 11:3 — the things that are seen were not made of the things that do appear. The firmware is already in Jeremiah 31:33 — the law written in the inward parts. The boot parameters are already in Proverbs 23:7 — as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. The glass is 1 Corinthians 13:12. Every one of these metaphors is sitting in the text. Every one of them has been read for two thousand years. And the tradition walked past every one of them because the tradition did not have the vocabulary or the nerve to ask what the metaphors actually were.

I had the vocabulary because I am a programmer. I had the nerve because I am campless, and nobody was going to remove me from a seminary I never attended. The combination let me pick up what the seminary men walked past.

And the lesson is bigger than the one verse. If you are reading this book and you think you have no business asking questions of the text because you do not have the credentials, hear what I am telling you. The men with the credentials read the glass for two thousand years and never saw what was sitting inside the second half of the verse. The truth is not protected by credentials. It is protected by the Author. And the Author puts His truth in front of anyone who will stop long enough to read it honestly, degree or no degree.

The glass has always been in the Bible. It was waiting for someone to pick it up. The framework picked it up. And when you pick it up with the framework, you will see it is not the only metaphor waiting.

A Note on the Eastern Orthodox View

The reader familiar with Eastern Orthodoxy will recognize something in this chapter. The Orthodox tradition has long taught that heaven and hell are the same experience of God’s presence, and that the difference lies in the person’s response to it. They speak of the “river of fire” — God’s love, which warms those who receive it and burns those who reject it. Saints like Isaac the Syrian and Gregory of Nyssa taught this centuries before the Western church settled on Augustine’s spatial separation. And they arrived at their conclusion from the same verse that started this chapter: the torment happens in the presence of the Lamb (Revelation 14:10).

The framework agrees with the Orthodox conclusion: same reality, different experience. On this point, the Orthodox got it right, and the Western tradition got it wrong.

But the framework diverges from the Orthodox at the root. In Orthodoxy, the difference between the saved and the lost is a difference of disposition — love versus hatred, receptivity versus rejection. The human person, in the Orthodox view, retains the capacity to respond to God’s love, and the tragedy of hell is that some choose not to. The framework says otherwise. The difference is not dispositional. It is ontological. The two seeds were authored differently from eternity (Chapter 12). The elect were given firmware designed to process God’s presence as glory. The reprobate were not. The reprobate do not choose to reject the light. They were never given the firmware to receive it. The disposition was authored. The firmware was installed before the first frame played. And no amount of exposure to God’s love will change firmware that was never written to be changed.

The Orthodox and the framework arrive at the same room. They disagree about why the two groups experience it differently. The Orthodox say the door was open and some refused to walk through. The framework says the door was open and some were never given legs.

And for those who want to see what the feast looks like from the inside — not derived from the framework, but glimpsed in a vision — I commend Appendix L to the reader. It is not theology. It is testimony. And it captures what the framework honestly says it cannot derive: what the feast feels like.

What the Framework Cannot Derive

And here is where honesty requires me to stop.

The framework derives the nature of heaven and hell. Same reality. Different firmware. Full resolution rendering. Three groups resolved. Curse and condemnation distinguished. Saints reigning. Reprobates subjected. All of this follows from the principles we’ve established across twenty-seven chapters.

But the framework cannot derive the experiential content of the reign. What it feels like to reign with Christ in a body of glory. What it is to see the Lamb face to face through new firmware. What the saints actually do in the new creation. The framework predicts its own limits here, and it does so honestly.

“But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

Eye hath not seen. Ear hath not heard. Neither have entered into the heart of man. The experiential content of the final state exceeds the capacity of the current firmware to process. We can derive the structure — what the final creation looks like in theological terms. But we cannot derive the experience — what it feels like to live there. The current rendering engine cannot preview the next rendering engine’s output. And any preacher who claims to know what heaven feels like is selling you a rendering of his imagination, not a revelation from Scripture.

The framework predicts its own limits. That’s not a flaw. That’s a feature. The system that claims to explain everything explains nothing well. The system that acknowledges what it cannot reach is honest about the boundary between derivation and speculation. And the boundary here is clear: the nature of the final state is derivable. The experience of the final state is not. And that’s exactly what Scripture says.

Objections and Answers

“Hell is separation from God — 2 Thessalonians 1:9 says so.”

I addressed this in “The Fire IS His Presence.” The Greek apo can mean “proceeding from” just as naturally as “away from,” and Revelation 14:10 is unambiguous: the torment happens in the presence of the Lamb. The clearer verse controls the interpretation of the less clear.

“Saints reigning over the damned sounds cruel.”

To the old firmware, it does. But the seeds are different, and the saints’ response — recorded in Revelation 19:1-4 — is not sorrow. It is Alleluia. If that sounds cruel, the problem isn’t with the framework. The problem is that the old firmware is still running.

“A framework that can’t describe what the saints’ reign looks like has no basis for claiming it exists.”

Because Scripture says it does. Revelation 5:10. Revelation 20:6. 1 Corinthians 6:2-3. The saints reign. That is revealed. What I can’t derive is the experiential content, and I explained why in the section above. That’s honesty, not weakness. Any eschatological system that claims to know what heaven feels like is speculating beyond the text.

“Eternal shame without eternal torment isn’t really hell.”

Being fully known for what you are, forever, in the presence of a glory you can never participate in — that is worse than fire. Fire implies engagement. Shame implies exposure. The eternal state isn’t a reduced punishment. It’s the permanent condition of old firmware at full resolution: total awareness, total subjection, total inability to receive the grace that is visible everywhere. That isn’t a lighter sentence. That’s the heaviest sentence the framework can derive.

For Further Study

The following passages speak to the themes of this chapter and are commended to the reader for independent study.

Torment in the Lamb’s presence — the verse that changes everything: Rev. 14:10; 2 Thess. 1:9.

God’s presence inescapable — no location outside His thought: Ps. 139:7-12; Jer. 23:24; Amos 9:2-3; Prov. 15:3; Job 34:21-22; Heb. 4:13; Acts 17:28.

The fire of God’s presence experienced differently based on nature: Ex. 3:2; Ex. 19:18; Ex. 24:17; Deut. 4:24; Deut. 9:3; Ps. 50:3; Ps. 97:3-5; Isa. 33:14; Heb. 12:29; Dan. 7:10; Mal. 3:2; Mal. 4:1; Nah. 1:5-6.

Every knee bowing, every tongue confessing: Isa. 45:23; Rom. 14:11; Phil. 2:10-11; Rev. 5:13.

The saints reigning with Christ and judging the world: Dan. 7:18; Dan. 7:22; Dan. 7:27; Matt. 19:28; Luke 22:29-30; Rev. 2:26-27; Rev. 3:21; Rev. 5:10; Rev. 20:4; Rev. 20:6; Rev. 22:5; 1 Cor. 6:2-3; 2 Tim. 2:12.

Degrees of punishment corresponding to deeds: Matt. 10:15; Matt. 11:22; Matt. 11:24; Matt. 16:27; Luke 12:47-48; Rom. 2:5-6; 2 Cor. 5:10; Rev. 20:12-13; Rev. 22:12.

The imprecatory psalms — the righteous praising God for judgment: Ps. 35:1-8; Ps. 58:10-11; Ps. 69:22-28; Ps. 109:6-20; Ps. 137:8-9; Ps. 139:19-22; Ps. 149:6-9; Rev. 6:9-10; Rev. 18:20; Rev. 19:1-6.

Eternal conscious awareness — shame and contempt forever: Dan. 12:2; Matt. 25:41; Matt. 25:46; Mark 9:43-48; Luke 16:23-26; 2 Thess. 1:9; Rev. 14:11; Rev. 20:10; Isa. 66:24; Jude 1:7; Jude 1:13.

The covering — Christ’s garment as the difference between glory and horror: Matt. 22:11-13; Isa. 61:10; Rev. 3:5; Rev. 3:18; Rev. 7:9; Rev. 7:13-14; Rev. 19:8; Zech. 3:3-5; Gen. 3:21; 2 Cor. 5:2-4.

The glass — nakedness, shame, and exposure: Gen. 2:25; Gen. 3:7-8; 1 Cor. 13:12; Rom. 9:22-23; 1 Cor. 2:9.

The scriptural seeds of the framework’s vocabulary: Ps. 139:16; Prov. 23:7; Jer. 31:33; Heb. 11:3; 1 Cor. 13:12.

The new heaven and new earth — the re-rendering: Rev. 21:1; Rev. 21:4; 2 Pet. 3:13; Isa. 65:17.

Degrees of punishment corresponding to deeds — the measured curse: Rev. 18:6; Matt. 5:26; Luke 12:47-48.

The reprobate unable to hide when the glass comes down: Ex. 32:25; Ex. 32:28; Rev. 6:15-17; Isa. 2:19-21; Hos. 10:8; Luke 23:30; Nah. 1:6; Mal. 3:2; Rev. 16:21; Rev. 9:20-21.

The feast of the redeemed — the elect celebrating in God’s presence: Isa. 25:6-8; Rev. 19:7-9; Matt. 22:1-14; Matt. 8:11; Luke 13:29; Luke 14:15-24; Rev. 21:4.