Some commentaries are best treated as reference works. I am very glad to own Brown’s Anchor volumes, Barrett, and Keener, but I would usually open them because I am working on a particular passage, historical problem, Greek construction, or interpretive dispute. Their enormous value does not necessarily mean that reading hundreds or thousands of pages consecutively produces the greatest return.
Other commentaries reward a different kind of reading because their interpretation accumulates. Themes introduced in John 1 reappear with greater definition in John 5, 10, 12, 13, 17, or 20; an understanding of signs gradually becomes an account of glory; a literary observation about testimony develops into a reading of judgment and the passion; and an interpretation of Father and Son deepens as the reader moves from Prologue through Farewell Discourse to Thomas’s confession. These are the books I have in view here.
This is therefore deliberately not another overall ranking. I am asking which works gain something important when read consecutively rather than sampled. The best cover-to-cover commentary may be less comprehensive than a major reference work because sustained reading rewards coherence, cumulative argument, readability, narrative sensitivity, and a theological vision capable of developing alongside the Gospel itself.
This revised edition also distinguishes continuous commentaries from several specialist books worth reading straight through. Jörg Frey’s The Glory of the Crucified One, Joshua J. F. Coutts’s The Divine Name in the Gospel of John, and Blake Wassell’s John 18:28–19:22 and the Paradox of Judgement are not verse-by-verse commentaries and should not be disguised as such. Mark Edwards’s John Through the Centuries is a commentary, but its principal concern is reception history rather than reconstruction of original meaning. All four nevertheless reward sustained reading sufficiently to deserve substantial places alongside the principal list.
1. Edward W. Klink III — John — Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament
Rating: ★★★★★
Klink remains my first choice for reading from beginning to end because his interpretation is intentionally cumulative. The historical, literary, canonical, and theological dimensions announced in his introduction continue to shape the commentary rather than disappearing once the verse-by-verse exposition begins. His distinction between the Gospel’s historical and cosmological dimensions is particularly fruitful: Jesus inhabits recognisable first-century places, festivals, disputes, meals, households, and political structures, yet those same events become the arena in which life confronts death, light confronts darkness, truth exposes falsehood, and the Son reveals the Father. Following that double perspective across twenty-one chapters reveals an architecture that selective consultation only occasionally exposes.
His treatment of John 9–10 illustrates why consecutive reading matters. The healing of the blind man, interrogation by religious authorities, growing confession of Jesus, and eventual exclusion are not sealed inside chapter 9 before a new topic called “the Good Shepherd” begins. Failed shepherding creates the narrative setting in which Jesus identifies himself as the shepherd who knows, protects, gathers, and lays down his life for the sheep. Similar cumulative interpretation appears in the Farewell Discourses, where covenant, Deuteronomic patterns, love, abiding, Spirit, mission, departure, presence, and obedience gradually form a coherent account of discipleship rather than a succession of famous sayings.
Reading Klink continuously also reveals both the strength and limitation of his approach. His explicitly canonical and confessional interpretation keeps asking what John means as Christian Scripture and prevents historical explanation from exhausting the text, but there are moments when a larger theological framework can feel more controlling than the local evidence requires. That is easier to evaluate when the whole commentary has been read, because one can distinguish genuine cumulative patterns from places where the interpretive program may be doing more work. For readers wanting detailed exegesis together with a sustained theological vision of the whole Gospel, Klink remains the strongest combination of readability, depth, and cumulative payoff.
2. Herman N. Ridderbos — The Gospel According to John: A Theological Commentary
Rating: ★★★★★
Ridderbos is exceptionally rewarding cover to cover because his commentary unfolds as one sustained argument concerning revelation in history. Signs, testimony, faith, Father and Son, Scripture, Spirit, hour, death, and resurrection are not independent theological topics distributed among twenty-one chapters. They progressively clarify how God makes himself known through the historical ministry of Jesus and how the identity of Jesus becomes perceptible through what he says and does.
Cana begins establishing how signs function, but the theology of signs becomes progressively richer as water, bread, sight, sickness, death, and resurrection enter the narrative. Ridderbos does not regard the concrete event as merely an earthly shell containing a spiritual meaning that should eventually replace it. The event itself becomes revelatory. Reading him consecutively therefore produces an increasingly integrated understanding of the relationship between action and revelation, particularly when the signs of John 1–12 eventually have to be reread through the language of the “hour,” the Farewell Discourses, crucifixion, and resurrection.
Ridderbos is similarly strong on retrospective understanding. The disciples repeatedly encounter realities whose significance they do not initially grasp, and resurrection together with the Spirit brings those earlier events into clearer comprehension. Later understanding does not make the history disposable; it establishes why that history mattered. This theme becomes considerably more persuasive when one watches it develop across the whole Gospel rather than reading an isolated note on John 2:22 or 12:16.
The commentary is less useful than Barrett, Brown, Keener, or Novakovic when the problem is a particularly difficult Greek construction, textual variant, or detailed point of ancient background. That narrower technical range actually makes the commentary easier to read as a sustained theological work. If my principal aim were to absorb John’s theology through an interpretation that remains anchored in the narrated history of Jesus, Ridderbos would be an exceptionally close alternative to Klink for first place.
3. Francis J. Moloney — The Gospel of John — Sacra Pagina
Rating: ★★★★½
Moloney is particularly well suited to consecutive reading because narrative criticism depends upon sequence. Characters know only what the story has allowed them to know so far; misunderstandings acquire meaning because readers have heard things characters have not; earlier promises anticipate later fulfilment; and Jesus’ approaching “hour” gradually reorganises the significance of everything that precedes it. Reading Moloney only when a difficult verse arises therefore misses much of what his approach contributes.
Misunderstanding is a particularly rewarding theme to follow. Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman, crowds, disciples, authorities, Martha, Peter, and others encounter Jesus at different levels of comprehension, and their responses help educate the reader. Some misunderstand and then grow; some resist further revelation; some make striking confessions while still failing to grasp what lies ahead. The Gospel consequently teaches not simply by giving correct propositions but through the reader’s developing relationship with characters whose partial interpretations expose what adequate faith requires.
The movement from signs toward glory is equally important. John 1–12 progressively reveals Jesus in public, but the meaning of glory cannot finally be determined from miracles alone. Farewell, betrayal, trial, cross, resurrection, and return to the Father force the reader to reconsider what the earlier signs were revealing. Moloney’s narrative method keeps that reinterpretation visible because later events genuinely change how earlier ones are understood.
Readers needing exhaustive discussion of Greek syntax, textual criticism, Second Temple Judaism, or Greco-Roman context will inevitably supplement Moloney. Yet that is precisely why this list differs from an overall ranking. His commentary is more valuable when treated as a continuous interpretation of a story than when mined as an encyclopedia of disputed details. For anyone wanting to experience John as narrative rather than principally as a collection of theological passages, Moloney remains one of the best books to read straight through.
4. Marianne Meye Thompson — John — New Testament Library
Rating: ★★★★★
Thompson’s manageable scale and unusually coherent theology make her commentary especially attractive for consecutive reading. Her central concerns—God, Father and Son, creation, life, signs, faith, resurrection, revelation, and discipleship—are themes whose meaning grows through recurrence. She does not force every paragraph into the same theological system, but the cumulative effect is a compelling account of how John narrates God’s life-giving presence through Jesus.
Creation and life provide one especially productive thread. The Prologue presents the Word in relation to creation, light, and life, but those ideas remain active as Jesus gives water, bread, sight, healing, and ultimately life to Lazarus. Reading Thompson continuously allows the raising of Lazarus to appear not simply as one exceptionally spectacular miracle but as a climax to an entire pattern in which the one through whom life came into being progressively reveals himself as the giver of life in the face of death.
Thompson is equally rewarding on Father and Son. The Gospel’s high Christology is not created by accumulating impressive titles for Jesus; it emerges through actions, words, authority, glory, judgment, and life-giving work that identify Jesus with the activity of the Father while preserving their relation to one another. This becomes richer as controversies increase, the Farewell Discourses deepen the relational language, and resurrection eventually produces Thomas’s confession.
Her treatment of discipleship likewise develops cumulatively from initial belief into abiding, obedience, love, witness, perseverance, and mission. Thompson is not as exhaustive as Brown or Keener and does not supply Barrett’s density of philological detail. For straight-through reading, however, that is an advantage. She may be the most approachable five-star option for readers wanting serious Johannine theology without undertaking a very large technical commentary.
5. Andrew T. Lincoln — The Gospel According to Saint John — Black’s New Testament Commentary
Rating: ★★★★★
Lincoln’s commentary is almost a textbook example of an interpretation that gains force through cumulative reading. His most distinctive contribution is the network connecting witness, testimony, truth, lawsuit, evidence, verdict, and judgment throughout the Gospel. A single note on testimony is useful; following the entire argument from John the Baptist through controversies, signs, Scripture, witnesses, the blind man, and eventually Pilate reveals something much larger about how John structures revelation.
The Baptist begins the accumulation of testimony, but further witnesses continually enter the case. Jesus refers to his works, the Father, Scripture, Moses, and others; opponents demand evidence; people render competing verdicts about his identity; and the Gospel repeatedly represents unbelief not merely as ignorance but as a judgment concerning revelation. Lincoln’s reading of the absolute egō eimi statements against the Isaianic world of divine self-identification, witness, and judgment becomes especially fruitful when this larger forensic architecture has already been followed.
The passion then reveals the full reversal. Jesus appears formally before a human judge, yet the preceding Gospel has prepared readers to see that judgment is moving in the opposite direction as well. Those who assess Jesus reveal themselves through their response to the truth, and the cross paradoxically becomes a convergence of judgment, glory, kingship, and salvation. Reading only Lincoln’s passion notes supplies the conclusion; reading the whole commentary allows one to see how carefully the Gospel has prepared it.
I remain more cautious than Lincoln regarding some historical judgments, particularly places where he allows literary shaping or community reconstruction to explain details I would prefer to leave historically more open. Those reservations do not diminish the cumulative literary-theological argument. Anyone especially interested in testimony, truth, judgment, and the architecture of Johannine conflict should read Lincoln from the beginning rather than merely consult him at John 18–19.
6. J. Ramsey Michaels — The Gospel of John — New International Commentary on the New Testament
Rating: ★★★★★
Michaels is the longest commentary on this principal list and will naturally be used by many readers as a reference work. Yet his commentary deserves cover-to-cover reading because many of its most characteristic insights arise from remembering what happened hundreds of pages earlier. Michaels is an unusually attentive reader of verbal echoes, narrative sequence, repeated formulations, unexpected transitions, and relationships between episodes that conventional pericope divisions encourage us to separate.
His resistance to isolating John 1:1–18 too rigidly from what follows is characteristic. Word, revelation, reception, testimony, the Baptist, and the question of recognising Jesus flow into the narrative instead of allowing a theological “Prologue” to become a detachable essay before the story proper begins. The same is true of his reading of the public ministry as an extended judicial drama: individual conflicts and witnesses make more sense when remembered as accumulating parts of a case concerning Jesus’ identity.
Michaels also repeatedly notices small words or narrative details whose significance becomes visible only later. When consulted episodically, these observations can appear clever but incidental; when read continuously, they reveal how thoroughly he has internalised the Gospel’s long-distance relationships. The commentary consequently feels less like following an explicit theological system and more like reading John beside someone who constantly remembers details you have forgotten.
The commitment required is substantial, and readers wanting the cleanest theological synthesis will probably prefer Ridderbos or Thompson. Nevertheless, Michaels may offer the greatest raw supply of fresh observations among the commentaries on this list. For an experienced reader willing to devote the time, sustained reading demonstrates why he remains my first-ranked John commentary overall even though Klink is still the book I would choose first specifically for the cover-to-cover exercise.
Specialist Works Worth Reading Straight Through
Several of the most rewarding new additions are not continuous commentaries and therefore should not be inserted artificially into the six-volume ranking above. Their arguments nevertheless accumulate strongly enough that reading them from beginning to end produces considerably more value than consulting individual chapters. These are the specialist companions I would now most readily recommend for sustained reading alongside the principal commentaries.
1. Jörg Frey — The Glory of the Crucified One: Christology and Theology in the Gospel of John
Rating: ★★★★★ as a theological companion
Frey is the strongest new addition to this post because the English volume has been organised to function as far more than a miscellaneous collection of essays. It moves from questions of Johannine interpretation into the character of the Gospel, temporal horizons and dualism, then deliberately places death, resurrection, and glory at its centre before moving into incarnation, Christology, the doctrine of God, and finally a broad synthesis of Johannine theology. Reading only the famous essays gives important insights; reading the volume in sequence reveals how these themes belong to one interpretive vision.
The controlling insight is captured in the title: the glory of the crucified one. Frey refuses both an interpretation in which Jesus’ earthly flesh obscures a heavenly glory and one in which glory is simply what comes after suffering has been left behind. John associates the “hour” with glorification so strongly that death, resurrection, and glory must be interpreted together. The cross therefore becomes part of the definitive revelation of God rather than merely the dark passage Jesus traverses before returning to the glory he possessed before creation.
The resurrection material strengthens this account rather than reversing it. The risen Jesus remains identifiable through the marks of crucifixion, and Thomas’s confession of Jesus as Lord and God is addressed to the one who still bears that embodied history. Frey therefore insists that Easter does not render the cross obsolete or transform Jesus into a purely spiritual figure detached from his earthly life. Bodiliness, death, wounds, resurrection, and glory belong to one Christological confession.
Equally important for sustained reading is Frey’s account of post-Easter remembrance. John itself acknowledges that the disciples did not understand the full significance of Jesus’ words and deeds when they occurred. Resurrection, Scripture, and the work of the Spirit-Paraclete establish a later horizon from which the earlier history is remembered and narrated more deeply. The Fourth Gospel can therefore be historically rooted without pretending to reproduce the unprocessed perspective of the disciples before Easter.
I would dispute some of Frey’s historical conclusions concerning authorship and the Gospel’s relationship to eyewitness testimony, while his description of Johannine theology as the “climax” of New Testament theology is intentionally stronger than I would make it. Those disagreements actually increase the value of reading him rather than merely extracting congenial quotations. Among specialist works, this is now the one I would most want to read from first page to last after completing a major commentary.
2. Mark Edwards — John Through the Centuries
Rating: ★★★★★ as a reception-history commentary
Edwards deserves a separate category because he is genuinely commenting through the Gospel, but the purpose of the Blackwell series differs fundamentally from modern historical-exegetical commentaries. His principal question is not only what John meant in its earliest setting but what John has meant and has done through subsequent centuries. Each section therefore gathers interpretations from church fathers, medieval exegetes, Reformers, later theologians, preachers, poets, artists, and modern scholars around the Johannine passage before following selected motifs into broader cultural reception.
Consecutive reading reveals how strongly certain Johannine texts have directed the history of Christian thought. The Prologue becomes a battlefield and workshop for reflection on Logos, incarnation, divine identity, creation, and Scripture; new birth acquires sacramental, mystical, moral, and ecclesial interpretations; the Good Shepherd participates in debates about church and ministry; Lazarus, Mary Magdalene, Pilate, crucifixion, and resurrection become subjects of homily, painting, drama, devotion, and poetry. One begins to see not simply a catalogue of interpretations but the extraordinary generative capacity of John’s symbols.
The patristic material is particularly valuable because Edwards refuses the caricature that older interpretation consisted merely of uncontrolled allegory until modern criticism rescued the text. Origen can combine figurative reading with historical and topographical observation; Chrysostom and other Antiochenes display considerable interest in narrative sequence and character motivation; Augustine combines literal, theological, pastoral, and allegorical reading in ways that shaped Western interpretation for centuries. The reader can disagree with many individual conclusions while still recognising that the questions being asked are often more sophisticated than modern shorthand suggests.
The book becomes more uneven as a straight-through read than Klink or Ridderbos because its “mosaic of opinions” is deliberately plural rather than driven by one exegetical thesis. Edwards also acknowledges limitations in his coverage, including relatively little sustained treatment of some modern feminist, deconstructive, and other recent approaches. Yet its very difference is the reason to read it. After several modern commentaries have trained the reader to ask only modern questions, Edwards demonstrates how much interpretive memory has been lost.
3. Joshua J. F. Coutts — The Divine Name in the Gospel of John: Significance and Impetus
Rating: ★★★★½ as a specialist monograph
Coutts is much narrower than Frey or Edwards, but the book is particularly well designed for consecutive reading because the argument is genuinely cumulative. He begins from the neglected observation that the Gospel of John employs the Father’s name with unusual frequency and in several different expressions. Rather than assuming that “your name” simply means “you,” Coutts asks why John was sufficiently attracted to the divine-name category to use it repeatedly and at climactic moments in the narrative.
The first major stage of the argument turns to Isaiah. Coutts identifies a conceptual cluster involving divine name, glory, the Isaianic “I am” expression, eschatological revelation, and the association of God with a distinguishable servant figure. He does not argue that John simply copies Isaiah or that every occurrence of “name” constitutes a direct quotation. Instead, Isaiah provides what he calls an impetus: a theological environment capable of explaining why the category itself was attractive to John.
Subsequent chapters then test that proposal against John’s own divine-name passages. “Glorify your name” in John 12 and Jesus’ declaration that he has made the Father’s name known in John 17 place name revelation at the climax and summary of Jesus’ mission. The name given to Jesus in John 17 concerns divine authority and legitimate agency, while believers being kept in the name associates their fidelity and identity with the God revealed through Jesus. John 5:43 and 10:25 then connect Jesus’ coming and activity with the Father’s name in ways that deepen the relationship without simply erasing the distinction between Father and Son.
Coutts’s methodological distinction between the name’s referent, meaning, function, significance, and impetus takes concentration, and the cumulative case for Isaiah is naturally less demonstrable than an explicit quotation would be. That density is precisely why dipping into isolated sections is less satisfactory than following the book’s full sequence. By the conclusion, several passages in John 12 and 17 look substantially different, and the relationships among divine name, glory, “I am,” Father, Son, believers, and eschatological revelation become difficult to ignore.
4. Blake Wassell — John 18:28–19:22 and the Paradox of Judgement
Rating: ★★★★½ as a specialist monograph
Wassell is the narrowest new work, but it is also almost impossible to appreciate properly by reading only the conclusion because every chapter constructs part of a deliberately cumulative interpretation of the Roman trial. The book begins with Johannine ambiguity and paradox, reconstructs Roman categories surrounding imperial superiority, false accusation, and governmental misrule, considers kingship and prophetic traditions, and then works scene by scene through John 18:28–19:22 before returning to the inscription over the crucified Jesus as the narrative’s denouement.
His controlling proposal is that the episode enacts a paradox of judgment. Jesus is brought as the accused, yet the accusations eventually expose the accusers; Pilate formally exercises Roman judgment, while Jesus paradoxically occupies the narrative role of true judge; the supposedly defeated king becomes conqueror precisely through the event that appears to defeat him. The cross consequently concentrates several Johannine reversals at once: judgment and salvation, humiliation and exaltation, destruction and restoration, earthly authority and authority “from above.”
Particularly provocative is Wassell’s treatment of the inscription “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Ioudaioi.” Rather than reading it only as Pilate’s revenge after yielding to political pressure, Wassell asks whether it preserves Jesus’ innocence while turning the accusation back upon those who brought it. Roman concepts of maiestas, calumnia, and misrule supply the historical framework for the proposal, while temple destruction and restoration, kingship, prophetic identity, and Johannine exaltation supply its theological dimension.
This is precisely the kind of argument that becomes more persuasive in some respects and more questionable in others when followed at full length. The ancient evidence gives genuine historical substance to details modern readers easily overlook, while the unusually positive role assigned to Pilate and several links in the broader symbolic reconstruction remain more speculative than I would permit a primary commentary to assume. Wassell himself also confronts the disturbing anti-Jewish potential of the Gospel’s rhetoric and its reception, preventing the literary reversal from being celebrated naïvely. Read beside Lincoln, Michaels, Frey, Brown, or Moloney, the book is an excellent example of how a tightly focused monograph can reopen one of John’s most heavily interpreted passages.
An Expository Commentary Especially Worth Reading Straight Through
N. T. Wright — John for Everyone, 2 vols.
Rating: ★★★★–★★★★½
Wright remains the easiest recommendation for readers who want to move through John consecutively without undertaking a large academic commentary. His great strength is narrative communication. Signs, misunderstandings, feasts, encounters, controversies, disciples, passion, and resurrection remain parts of one developing story rather than occasions for independent mini-essays, and his prose constantly reminds the reader that Johannine theology emerges through narrative movement.
Wright’s biblical-theological instincts also help keep Israel’s story, creation, kingdom, temple, mission, and new creation in view as the Gospel progresses. This is particularly valuable in a Gospel whose theological vocabulary can otherwise sound detached from the scriptural world that generated it. His treatment of the movement toward Jesus’ “hour” likewise helps readers feel the dramatic pressure of the Gospel instead of encountering glory and cross only as theological concepts.
The books intentionally omit extensive Greek, textual criticism, detailed interaction with scholarship, and complex theories of composition. Wright’s characteristic theological emphases also sometimes shape an interpretation more strongly than every reader will prefer. Yet those are reasons to pair him with an academic commentary, not reasons to dismiss the books. For devotional reading, congregational teaching, or simply experiencing John as one continuous theological narrative, they remain unusually enjoyable.
Which One Would I Read First?
I would still begin with Edward Klink if the task were specifically to read one conventional commentary straight through. He provides the strongest combination of substantial exegesis, coherent interpretive method, readability, and cumulative theological development. His understanding of John as simultaneously historical and cosmological becomes increasingly useful as the Gospel progresses and gives consecutive reading an advantage that selective consultation cannot reproduce.
I would choose Ridderbos instead if my primary interest were theological interpretation of revelation in history, Moloney if I especially wanted to experience John as narrative, and Thompson if I wanted a serious but comparatively manageable theological journey through Father, Son, life, creation, and discipleship. Lincoln would be my choice for tracing witness, testimony, lawsuit, truth, and judgment, while Michaels offers perhaps the largest reward for readers willing to undertake a much longer journey with an exceptionally attentive interpreter.
Among the new specialist works, Frey would be my first straight-through choice without hesitation. His book is not a conventional commentary, but the cumulative movement from historical and hermeneutical questions through cross, resurrection, glory, incarnation, God, Christ, and Spirit gives the volume unusual coherence. Edwards would come next if I wanted to enlarge my interpretive imagination through reception history, while Coutts and Wassell are ideal concentrated reads when the divine name or Johannine passion respectively becomes the focus.
What I Would Still Mostly Consult Rather Than Read Straight Through
The absence of Brown’s Anchor commentary, Barrett, and Keener from the principal list should not be mistaken for a judgment that they are weaker books. All three rank extremely highly in my overall assessment of Johannine commentaries. Their distinctive strengths simply lend themselves particularly well to selective use: Brown when compositional history, classical critical scholarship, and major interpretive debates need mapping; Barrett when a linguistic or exegetical problem demands unusually sharp judgment; Keener when ancient Jewish or Greco-Roman context becomes decisive.
Novakovic’s Greek handbooks likewise belong near my desk rather than necessarily on my cover-to-cover reading schedule. They are excellent because they isolate syntax, lexical issues, verbal forms, discourse relationships, and grammatical alternatives with far greater efficiency than most full commentaries. Reading them sequentially could certainly improve one’s Johannine Greek, but their principal value lies in answering a different kind of question from the cumulative literary and theological works ranked above.
The distinction matters because reference value and consecutive-reading value are different virtues. A commentary can be indispensable for research while offering less additional benefit from uninterrupted reading, whereas a shorter commentary with a sustained theological or narrative vision can become substantially better when followed from first page to last.
Bottom Line
My principal cover-to-cover order therefore remains Klink → Ridderbos → Moloney → Thompson → Lincoln → Michaels. I would not alter that ranking simply to accommodate recently examined books that belong to another genre. Each of those six continuous commentaries develops an interpretation whose value compounds as John progresses, and each enables readers to see relationships that can disappear when commentary use is restricted to isolated passages.
The new material does, however, substantially expand what I would recommend reading alongside that list. Jörg Freyis now my first specialist theological companion for straight-through reading, because his interpretation of the crucified one as the glorified one brings history, Christology, cross, resurrection, Spirit, and theology into a coherent conversation. Mark Edwards offers the richest sustained reception-history journey, forcing modern readers to encounter the extraordinary interpretive world John has generated across centuries. Joshua Coutts demonstrates how a focused monograph can transform the interpretation of divine-name language and John 17, while Blake Wassell shows what becomes possible when a few dozen verses of the passion are subjected to sustained literary, historical, legal, and theological scrutiny.
The broader principle remains the same. A commentary worth reading cover to cover should not simply provide more information by page 800 than it did on page 20. It should have trained the reader to see John differently by the time the Gospel ends. The best volumes above accomplish that because their interpretations accumulate alongside John’s own recurring themes of life, light, witness, glory, Father and Son, belief, judgment, cross, resurrection, and Spirit.
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