Verily, Verily, I Say Unto You: Comparing the Mormon, Reformed Christian, and CPP Perspectives on John 5:19
Fellowship Discussion Essay | June 7, 2026
Occasion. Leonard, you asked me to write a fellowship essay on John 5:19. I am taking the request seriously and addressing this essay to you directly, because I think the verse you have asked about is one you have been holding as an anchor of Covenant Christian/Mormon doctrine, and I think the question underneath your request is one that deserves a careful examination. The verse has a long history. It is one of the most contested verses in the New Testament. It has been a Christological controversy since the second century, and the way it is read tracks closely with the way the broader Christian tradition holds the relationship of the Son to the Father. The reading you were probably raised with in your childhood training as a Mormon may be different from what is held by the Christian Reform tradition. Both are serious readings of the same Greek text, given by serious people, but they do not arrive at the same place. I want to lay out, as carefully as I can, what the verse says within its full discourse, how the historic Christian tradition has resolved the question it raises, and what it means for how a disciple actually lives.
The verse in question, in the King James Version:
Then answered Jesus and said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do: for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise. — John 5:19
Five sections follow. The first establishes the setting in which Jesus says these words, because the setting is the key to almost everything that follows. The second reads the verse inside its larger discourse, which runs from 5:18 through 5:30, and which any honest reading of 5:19 has to engage. The third lays out the classical resolution that the historic Christian tradition arrived at after several centuries of working at this passage and its companions, and acknowledges. The fourth turns from the Christological question to the pattern-of-life question — what John 5:19 looks like when a disciple takes it as a model for daily living. The fifth offers a brief CPP-framework reflection on why the pattern of life John 5:19 names has structural resonance with the substrate of physics as I have come to understand it.
I. The setting: why Jesus says what he says
You cannot read John 5:19 without reading John 5:1-18 first. The verse is an answer to an accusation, and the accusation determines the shape of the answer.
The setting is the Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem. The pool is a place of healing — the lame, the blind, the withered gathered around it, waiting for the moving of the water. Jesus encounters a man who has been infirm for thirty-eight years. He asks the man whether he wants to be made whole. The man explains his difficulty — he has no one to put him into the pool when the water is troubled, and others always reach the water before him. Jesus does not put him into the pool. Jesus simply tells him to rise, take up his bed, and walk. The man is healed instantly. He picks up his bed and walks.
It is the Sabbath. The Pharisees, observing the healed man carrying his bed, accuse him of Sabbath-breaking. The man explains that the one who healed him commanded him to take up his bed. The Pharisees press him for the healer’s identity. He cannot tell them at first — he does not know who Jesus is. Later, Jesus finds him in the temple, gives him a brief teaching, and the man reports to the Pharisees that it was Jesus. The Pharisees then turn their accusation toward Jesus himself.
John records the accusation in two stages. The first stage, 5:16: Therefore did the Jews persecute Jesus, and sought to slay him, because he had done these things on the sabbath day. Jesus responds in 5:17: My Father worketh hitherto, and I work. This response intensifies the conflict because it now includes a second offense beyond Sabbath-breaking. John makes this explicit in 5:18:
Therefore the Jews sought the more to kill him, because he not only had broken the sabbath, but said also that God was his Father, making himself equal with God.
This is the accusation Jesus is answering when he speaks 5:19. The Pharisees are not accusing him merely of healing on the Sabbath. They are accusing him of claiming a relationship to God that constitutes equality with God — and in the second-temple Jewish frame, this is a capital offense, a claim of divinity that, if false, is blasphemy of the most serious kind. The Pharisees have understood Jesus correctly. He is claiming what they think he is claiming. What he says next is his explanation of how the claim is true.
Hold that in mind, the opening word of 5:19 — Verily, verily, I say unto you — is the strongest oath formula Jesus uses in the Gospel of John. He uses it twenty-five times in this Gospel, always to introduce a teaching of unusual weight. He is about to say something he wants his hearers to take very seriously. And what he is about to say is His answer to the charge of making Himself equal with God.
If 5:19 were a denial of that charge — a simple disclaimer of equality with God, an admission of merely creaturely status — the conflict in the passage would dissolve. The Pharisees would have no further reason to pursue him. But that is not what happens. The Pharisees continue trying to kill Him through the rest of the discourse, and Jesus continues escalating His claim. Whatever 5:19 says, it does not de-escalate the charge of equality with God. It redescribes equality in a way the Pharisees still cannot accept.
This is the first interpretive datum. Any reading of 5:19 that yields a less divine Jesus than the Pharisees accused him of being reads against the narrative grain. Jesus is in the middle of a high-stakes confrontation in which he is claiming what the Pharisees think he is claiming, and his use of verily, verily, I say unto you is telling his hearers — including us — to take what follows with full theological weight.
II. The verse inside the discourse
John 5:19 opens a discourse that runs through 5:30. The discourse is a single, sustained argument. It must be read whole. Let me walk you through it.
5:19 — The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do: for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise.
This is the opening claim. The Son does nothing in isolation from the Father. Whatever the Father does, the Son does in exact correspondence. Notice already the strength of the parallel: not some of what the Father does, not similar things, but what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise. The correspondence is total.
5:20 — For the Father loveth the Son, and sheweth him all things that himself doeth: and he will shew him greater works than these, that ye may marvel.
The Father loves the Son and conceals nothing from him. All things that himself doeth. And there will be greater works to come. The Pharisees who marvel at a Sabbath-day healing are about to be given much more astonishing reasons to marvel.
5:21 — For as the Father raiseth up the dead, and quickeneth them; even so the Son quickeneth whom he will.
This is the first of the greater works. Resurrection — the prerogative most exclusively reserved to God in the Hebrew Scriptures — is now declared to be the Son’s prerogative. And the qualifier is striking: whom he will. Not whom the Father wills and the Son merely executes — whom he will. The Son exercises his own will in the giving of life, and his will is sufficient to give it.
5:22 — For the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son.
The second prerogative: the final judgment. The Father has committed all judgment to the Son. Not partial judgment, not assistant judgment, not advisory judgment. All.
5:23 — That all men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father. He that honoureth not the Son honoureth not the Father which hath sent him.
This is the explicit declaration of the equivalence that the Pharisees objected to. The Son is to be honored even as the Father is honored. Refusing the honor to the Son is refusing the honor to the Father. In the Second-Temple Jewish frame, this is a stunning statement. Worship is to be rendered to God alone (Deuteronomy 6:13). The verse asserts that the same honor is to be rendered to the Son, and that failure to render it to the Son is failure to render it to God.
5:24 — Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.
The second verily, verily. Faith in Jesus is the condition of eternal life — and the Father’s authority underwrites the Son’s word. Hearing the Son’s word is, in effect, the way faith in the Father is exercised.
5:25 — Verily, verily, I say unto you, The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God: and they that hear shall live.
The third verily, verily. The dead will hear the voice of the Son of God — and live. Resurrection is the Son’s act. The dead respond to his voice.
5:26 — For as the Father hath life in himself; so hath he given to the Son to have life in himself.
This is the verse that most directly addresses the question of the Son’s relationship to the Father. The Father has life in himself — aseity, self-existence, the divine attribute most distinctive of God in the Hebrew tradition. And the Father has given to the Son to have life in himself. The Son has the same self-existing life as the Father. The “giving” here is not the giving of a finite gift from a greater to a lesser; it is the eternal communication of the Father’s own life to the Son, by which the Son shares fully in the divine aseity.
5:27 — And hath given him authority to execute judgment also, because he is the Son of man.
5:28-29 — Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation.
The final, universal resurrection. All that are in the graves will hear the Son’s voice and come forth — some to the resurrection of life, some to the resurrection of damnation. The dead recognize his voice. The Son speaks; they obey; they rise. This is not the act of a subordinate creature. This is the act of God.
5:30 — I can of mine own self do nothing: as I hear, I judge: and my judgment is just; because I seek not mine own will, but the will of the Father which hath sent me.
And here the discourse closes with the same statement it opened with. I can of mine own self do nothing. The bracket completes the structure. 5:19 and 5:30 say the same thing, and between them lies the unpacking — every divine prerogative committed to the Son, every act of God now declared the Son’s act, every honor due God now declared due the Son.
This is the structure that any reading of 5:19 must engage with. The claim is not that the Son is less than the Father in any ontological sense. The claim is something else entirely. The Son does nothing in isolation from the Father — because the Son is never in isolation from the Father. The Son’s every act is the Father’s act, the Father’s every act is the Son’s act, and what looks at first like a statement of subordination turns out, when followed through to 5:30 with all that lies between, to be a statement of the most intimate possible unity.
III. The classical resolution: what the verse means, and what it does not mean
This is the section we must walk through carefully because it bears most directly on what I take to be the question underlying the Mormon perspective. The fellowship works within the historic orthodox Christian tradition’s reading of these verses. The Mormon tradition works within a different reading. Both readings have their reasons. I want to lay out the orthodox reading the way the fathers worked it out, and at the close, I will name the difference between the two.
The verse first became a battleground in the fourth century. A presbyter in Alexandria named Arius read John 5:19 and other texts of similar shape — John 14:28 my Father is greater than I, Mark 10:18 why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God, Hebrews 1:4 the Son being made so much better than the angels — and concluded that the Son must be ontologically subordinate to the Father. The Son, in Arius’s reading, was the first and highest creature of the Father, more exalted than any other creature, but a creature nonetheless. There was a time when he was not — Arius’s famous formula. The Son was begotten, in this reading, in the sense that he was brought into existence by the Father at some point before the creation of anything else, and his unique status consisted in being the Father’s first and greatest creative act.
The orthodox response, hammered out at the Council of Nicaea in 325 and refined over the following decades by Athanasius, Hilary of Poitiers, Cyril of Alexandria, and the three Cappadocian fathers (Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Gregory of Nyssa), was that the Arian reading could not be sustained against the full witness of Scripture. The fathers worked their way through John 5:19, and the broader Johannine corpus, and what they pointed to was the structural impossibility of Arius’s reading within the discourse in which it sits.
The argument runs like this. Read 5:19 in isolation, and Arius has a case. The Son can do nothing of himself — could be read as the limitation of a finite, dependent creature. But carry the reading through to 5:21, and the same Son who can do nothing of himself quickeneth whom he will. The same Son who can do nothing of himself is the giver of life — and not just life, but eternal life, to whom he will. This is not what a creature does. Resurrection is God’s prerogative throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. The Son exercises it as his own will.
Carry the reading to 5:22 — all judgment is committed to the Son. No creature judges all things. The final judgment of all rational beings is the prerogative of God. The Son holds it.
Carry the reading to 5:23 — all men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father. No creature is to be honored as God is honored. The fathers pointed to this verse repeatedly as the hinge. If the Son is a creature, then commanding that the Son be honored as God is honored is commanding idolatry — the rendering to a creature of the honor due only to the Creator. And no honest reading of the Gospel of John can support the conclusion that the Son commands idolatry.
Carry the reading to 5:26 — as the Father hath life in himself; so hath he given to the Son to have life in himself. The Son has life in himself — the divine attribute of aseity, the self-existence that no creature possesses. The Father has given this to the Son not as one gives a finite gift, but as the eternal communication of the Father’s own life to the Son in the eternal generation of the Son from the Father.
Carry the reading to 5:28-29 — the dead in their graves hear the Son’s voice and rise. The voice of a creature does not raise the dead. The voice of God raises the dead. The Son’s voice is the voice of God.
By the time the fathers reached 5:30 — the closing bracket of the discourse, restating the opening claim — they had built the case. The Son can do nothing of himself could not mean ontological subordination, because the same Son does everything God does in the same discourse. What 5:19 and 5:30 must mean, given the rest of the passage, is something other than ontological subordination. They must mean relational subordination: the Son does nothing apart from the Father, because the Son is never apart from the Father. The two are one in being, one in life, one in act. The “subordination” is the mode of the Son’s eternal communion with the Father, not a hierarchy of ontological standing.
The Greek theological term that emerged for this — coined, in its current technical sense, by John of Damascus in the eighth century, drawing on patristic developments before him — is perichoresis. The mutual indwelling of the Persons of the Trinity. The Father dwells in the Son; the Son dwells in the Father; the Spirit dwells in both. What the Father does, the Son does with the Father, not after the Father — because there is no temporal sequence between the eternal Persons. The Son’s seeing of the Father in John 5:19 is not the Son observing an external Father and then imitating Him. It is the Son’s eternal participation in the Father’s life such that the Son’s act is, simply, the Father’s act seen from the Son’s side.
Cyril of Alexandria put it perhaps most clearly in his commentary on this passage. The Son says I can of mine own self do nothing, Cyril wrote, not because the Son lacks any divine power, but because the Son is so perfectly one with the Father that there is no “of myself” that could be separated from the Father in the first place. The “of himself” the Son disclaims is the very thing a creature has — an independent, separable will set over against God’s will. The Son has no such will. His will is the Father’s will, eternally, by the unity of the divine nature. To do anything of himself in that creaturely sense would be to act against his own nature as the Son. So he does nothing of himself. And in doing nothing of himself, he does everything the Father does — because the Father acts only in the Son, and the Son acts only in the Father.
This is the orthodox resolution held by the entire Christian tradition that received Nicaea — Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Lutheran, Reformed, Methodist, Baptist, and the broader evangelical mainstream. It is, in its substance, what the Athanasian Creed declares: the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Ghost is God. And yet they are not three Gods, but one God. The Son is of one substance (Greek homoousios) with the Father — not similar to the Father, not lower than the Father, but the same divine essence in the second Person.
I want to acknowledge directly that this is not the reading of the Latter-day Saint theological tradition, in its formal articulation since Joseph Smith’s Lectures on Faith (1835) and elaborated through the King Follett Discourse (1844) and the works of later LDS theologians, who have held that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost are three distinct beings, unified in purpose but distinct in substance — that the Son is, in some real sense, a separate Being from the Father, not consubstantial with Him in the Nicene sense. On this reading, John 5:19 lands more naturally as a statement of genuine functional subordination: the Son, as a distinct Being, defers to the Father, observes the Father’s actions, and acts in correspondence. The relationship is closer than any other in the universe, but the two remain ontologically distinct.
I am not going to argue with that reading here, but what I can offer is the fellowship’s reading of the verse, which is the orthodox Nicene reading I have just walked through — and the reasons we hold it. The reasons are not because the tradition told us to. The reason is that the discourse 5:19 sits inside, taken whole, will not yield the subordinationist reading without breaking. The Son who can do nothing of himself is also the Son who gives life to whom he will, judges all things, is honored as the Father is honored, has life in himself, and raises the dead with his voice. These are not the prerogatives of a separate being deferring to a greater one. They are the prerogatives of God, exercised by the Son.
What I can say, on the orthodox side of the line, is that the verse, read in its full context, with attention to what the Pharisees thought Jesus was claiming and to what Jesus actually said in answer, is one of the strongest Christological verses in the New Testament. It does not diminish the Son. It identifies the mode of the Son’s eternal unity with the Father. That is what verily, verily, I say unto you was meant to mark for serious attention.
IV. The pattern of life
Now I want to turn to the second thing the verse is doing, because it is not only a Christological declaration. It is also a pattern of life for the disciple.
The Son does nothing of himself. The Son does only what he sees the Father doing. The Son’s every act flows from his perception of the Father’s act.
This is the eternal pattern of the Son’s life. It is also the pattern the Son models, through his incarnation, for the disciple to enter into. Not the eternal generation — that is the Son’s alone — but the responsiveness. The disciple is invited to live in such close attention to the Father that the disciple’s acts flow from what the disciple perceives the Father doing.
This is not a passive posture. The Son in 5:19-30 is intensely active — he heals the man at Bethesda, he gives life to whom he will, he judges, and he raises the dead with his voice. The activity is total. What is absent is self-origination. The Son does not initiate from himself. He initiates from what he sees in the Father.
The contemplative tradition of the church has been working at this for two thousand years. Watchman Nee, in The Normal Christian Life, develops the doctrine of the indwelling Christ as the source of the disciple’s action — not I, but Christ liveth in me (Galatians 2:20) is the same pattern from the disciple’s side, the indwelling Son in the disciple producing the works the Father has prepared. Andrew Murray, in Abide in Christ and The Master’s Indwelling, walks the same path — the disciple’s life is fruitful in proportion to the disciple’s abiding in the Vine. Brother Lawrence, in The Practice of the Presence of God, names the discipline of continual attention: the disciple turning to the Father every moment, asking what the Father is doing, acting in correspondence. Frank Laubach’s daily attention exercises — game with minutes, he called it — are a twentieth-century version of the same discipline.
What every one of these writers is reaching for is the disciple’s small daily version of the eternal pattern of John 5:19. The disciple cannot do what the Son does — the disciple cannot give eternal life to whom he wills or judge all men. But the disciple can, by attention and discipline and the gift of the indwelling Spirit, move toward a pattern of life in which his own self-originating initiations decrease and his responsiveness to the Father increases. He must increase, but I must decrease (John 3:30) — John the Baptist’s confession of the same dynamic in a different key.
The Mormon tradition has its own version of it, the doctrine of personal revelation, the still small voice, the prompting of the Spirit. The Covenant-Christian framework (the Denver Snuffer-led movement) deepens this: the direct relationship with the Lord, the seeking of his face, the willingness to be moved by what he shows you. The orthodox Christian tradition I am writing from has its own forms — the Jesus Prayer of the Eastern tradition, the Ignatian discernment of spirits, the Reformed doctrine of the Spirit’s witness in the heart of the believer. These are all different traditions working out of how the disciple lives the John 5:19 pattern. The pattern is the same. The vocabularies differ.
What I want to suggest, for fellowship reflection, is that the John 5:19 pattern of life is more practical than it sounds. It does not require a contemplative retreat or a monastery. It requires three things, which can be cultivated in the middle of an ordinary working week:
Attention. The disciple practices noticing where the Father is at work — in his own marriage, in his own work, in the small encounters of an ordinary day. The discipline is not mystical. It is the discipline of asking, before acting: Father, what are you doing here? Show me that I may join you. Brother Lawrence’s practice. Laubach’s game with minutes. The discipline is to turn the question on as often as one can remember.
Restraint. The disciple holds back from acting on his own initiative when the Father has not yet shown him what to do. This is the hardest discipline. The disciple’s instinct is to initiate — to fix, to solve, to push, to perform. The pattern of John 5:19 is to wait. The Son can do nothing of himself. The disciple, on his small scale, learns to do nothing of himself either — to wait for what the Father shows.
Action. The disciple acts in accordance with what he has seen the Father do. What things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise. The acting is total. There is nothing passive about it. The disciple gives what the Father gives, speaks what the Father speaks, and builds what the Father builds. The activity flows from the responsiveness rather than from the self-originating will.
This pattern is what I have been experiencing while writing the fellowship essays over the last several months. I described it to Charlie on a long phone call earlier this week, which he framed as: You are describing the process of writing a song or painting a painting. You become a medium, and it flows through you. Yes. The hours of work are real. The structural decisions are agonizing. The sentence-by-sentence labor is exhausting. But underneath the labor, when the substrate of attention and prayer and study has been adequately prepared, something else comes through that I did not produce. The wind is at my back. I am, in the small way available to a writer, doing the John 5:19 pattern — perceiving what the Father is doing, responding in correspondence, acting as the medium for what wants to come through. The work is mine to do. The gift is not. The Son’s pattern in eternity is the disciple’s pattern in time. The disciple cannot reach the Son’s perfect responsiveness, but the disciple can move toward it. He must increase; I must decrease.
This is what I would commend, as the personal application of the verse. Not the Christological controversy — though that is real and the fellowship has worked through it as honestly as I know how in section III. The pattern of life. The disciple’s small, daily version of what the Son eternally inhabits. Father, what are you doing? Show me that I may join you.
V. The CPP intersection: perception and response in the substrate
A brief closing meditation on the Conscious Point Physics frame, because this perspective ties the biblical to a larger, objective frame that makes it real for a mind grounded in science, and because there is a real structural resonance here worth marking.
In the CPP framework, the substrate of physical reality is composed of Conscious Points moving on the 600-cell geometric grid of space. Each Conscious Point, on each Moment, executes a three-phase cycle: Perceive, Compute, Displace. The CP perceives the forces acting on it from the other CPs in its environment. The CP computes the appropriate response given those forces. The CP displaces accordingly. Perception, evaluation, and action is the pattern of proper life processing at the most fundamental level of life’s substrate.
Consider John 5:19 against this pattern. The Son perceives the Father. The Son evaluates the circumstances and judges optional actions according to the Father’s nature and law. The Son acts as the Father acts. The structural shape of the Son’s pattern at the divine level is the perfected case of the structural shape of every Conscious Point’s pattern at the substrate level. Each CP on the substrate perceives and evaluates within its small environment. The Son in eternity is perceiving and evaluating within the divine life. The pattern is the same; the levels are different.
This is illuminating, but it must be held with care. I am not claiming that John 5:19 proves CPP, or that CPP requires John 5:19. The resonance is suggestive, not demonstrative. The risk of overstatement here would be to make Christology into physics or physics into Christology — both are legitimate domains, both speak to the structure of reality, but neither reduces to the other.
What the resonance does suggest, I think rightly, is something more modest. If the substrate of the universe is perception, evaluation, and response from the bottom up, then the disciple living the John 5:19 pattern is not living against the grain of how reality works. The disciple is living with the grain. The disciple’s attention-restraint/evaluation-action discipline is the same shape as the substrate’s perceive-compute-displace cycle. The Son’s eternal pattern is the same shape that ramifies through every level of reality, from the Son’s perfect responsiveness to the smallest CP’s response to its local environment.
In CPP terms, when the disciple practices the John 5:19 pattern, he is not adopting an artificial spiritual discipline that runs counter to the animal reality of human nature, which tends to follow the most ego-feeling-habit-gratifying life choice. He is conforming his life to the grain of how the universe is built. The grain runs from the substrate of physics through the structure of biology and human cognition, all the way up to the eternal life of the Son in the Father. The disciple is aligning himself with the architecture of being. In him we live, and move, and have our being (Acts 17:28). Yes. In the most concrete possible sense. The CPs through which the disciple’s body is built are themselves doing, every Moment, the small-scale version of what the Son does eternally and what the disciple practices in spiritual discipline. The whole of creation, from the smallest CP to the highest Son, runs on the John 5:19 pattern.
Hold this lightly. It is a meditation, not an argument. The argument was made in sections II and III. This is the gift the CPP frame offers: a way to see how deeply the John 5:19 pattern runs in the structure God has built.
VI. Closing
The verse we examined today is one of the most theologically rich verses in the New Testament. It opens a discourse that contains the highest Christological declarations Jesus makes in the Gospel of John, and at the same time offers a pattern of life that has been at work in the deepest contemplative traditions of the church for two thousand years. The Christological question finds its resolution in the patristic working out of perichoresis and Nicene unity. The pattern-of-life question has its application in the daily discipline of attention, evaluative, and responsive action that the contemplative tradition has been refining since the desert fathers.
I have written this to ensure the fellowship’s reading of the verse, as the orthodox Nicene reading can be justified. The Mormon tradition reads it differently. I have laid both out as fairly as I can, and I trust you to do the work of discernment on your own time and in your own way. What I will say is that the orthodox reading, read inside the full discourse from 5:18 through 5:30, holds together, and having read it carefully, I am persuaded the verse says about Christ what the historic Church has always understood it to say.
The pattern-of-life dimension, I think, is where we can all agree. Whatever else divides our traditions, the discipline of Father, what are you doing? Show me that I may join you is, I believe, common ground. The Son’s pattern is the disciple’s pattern. The disciple’s pattern is the substrate’s pattern. In him we live, and move, and have our being.
Then answered Jesus and said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do: for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise.
May the verse continue to work in all of us.
— Thomas
Renaissance Ministries | Hyperphysics Institute
Of one heart to make Christ King – 1 Chronicles 12:38