The narrator admits forgetting about intrinsically evil mental pleasures, such as nursing a grievance. However, he argues that these are mixed pleasures: They’re pleasant only as relief from negative states like humiliation, comparable to scratching an itch one never wanted.

Turning to Malcolm’s discussion of repentance, the narrator objects to labeling the lowest level “Pagan penitence,” noting that it appears throughout Old Testament Psalms and Christian liturgies. Criticizing Malcolm’s analogy of God’s anger as a “live wire,” he argues that it eliminates forgiveness since electricity cannot forgive. He defends the traditional anger analogy, maintaining that in authentic human reconciliation, genuine anger transforms into welcoming love. Divine wrath and pardon belong together within the realm of personal relationships, not mechanical cause and effect.

He mentions reading Alexander Whyte (1836-1921), a Presbyterian divine; Whyte advocated constant awareness of one’s inner corruption as evidence of regeneration. The narrator questions this approach, finding it unlike the New Testament’s emphasis on love, joy, and peace, and contrary to Paul’s directive to forget what lies behind and reach forward. He worries that programmed emotional states become artificial and that dwelling on sin might breed perverse pride. He observes that his feelings of shame do not correspond to his rational assessment of sins’ gravity, suggesting that emotional reactions have limited ethical significance.

The narrator asks Malcolm to tell Betty that he was about to emphasize communal adoration’s importance before Malcolm’s digression. He notes that public worship matters most during celebrations like Easter, and that he best attends to prayers in church that he has practiced privately.

He denies being choosy about services, stating that any form suits him once it becomes familiar. He insists that inadequate settings and attendants (ugly churches, awkward servers) do not matter; some of his most meaningful Communions occurred in humble settings like a Nissen hut (similar to a Quonset hut in the US). He has not written about Holy Communion because he lacks theological expertise, not because of reluctance. He explains his difficulty understanding various doctrinal explanations: He cannot intellectually grasp transubstantiation (by which the Eucharist’s bread and wine transform into Christ’s body and blood), and viewing the elements as mere memorial symbols seems inadequate since the action’s significance transcends psychological reminder.

Despite his conceptual confusion, he experiences Communion as uniquely powerful—the place where the separation between worlds becomes thinnest and most receptive to divine action. He describes this as an objective supernatural efficacy beyond further analysis, through which one may witness Heaven’s concrete realities. This enduring ceremony testifies that divine reality consists of objective facts, not human constructs. He concludes that he follows Christ’s command “Take, eat” rather than “Take, understand,” and tries not to obsess over analyzing the elements, which would remove them from their sacred context.

The narrator shares recent good news: After 30 years of effort and prayer, he has forgiven someone. The experience felt easy once it happened, like learning to swim—impossible until suddenly effortless. Forgiving the other’s cruelty and being forgiven for his own resentment seemed identical, making him wonder whether the dead know when we finally forgive them.

This leads him to address Malcolm’s question about praying for the dead. He does so spontaneously and inevitably, finding it nearly impossible to maintain a relationship with God if those he loves most cannot be mentioned. He rejects the traditional Protestant argument that prayer for the saved or damned is useless, noting that the same logic would invalidate prayers for the living, yet Scripture commands such prayer.

He acknowledges that this position implies a belief in Purgatory. He distinguishes his view from the degraded 16th-century concept of temporary hellish torment, preferring Newman’s vision wherein the saved soul at Heaven’s threshold begs for cleansing. In the narrator’s view, our souls demand this purification; accepting Heaven unwashed would be unbearable. He imagines Purgatory like a dentist instructing him to rinse after extraction—potentially painful but cleansing and holy.

Addressing Malcolm’s concern about the dead existing outside of time, he speculates that they might experience a thicker temporality rather than strict timelessness. He suspects that purely timeless existence contradicts the doctrine of bodily resurrection. He concludes by asking Malcolm to tell George to meet him in his rooms at 7:15 pm.

The narrator acknowledges Betty’s criticism about avoiding prayer’s irksomeness. He admits that writing about prayer exaggerates its role; in reality, he is reluctant to begin, relieved to finish, and easily distracted.

What disturbs him is not merely begrudging the duty, but that prayer must be duty at all. Humans were created to glorify and enjoy God; if communion feels burdensome rather than delightful, something seems wrong. While sins contribute (leading to worldly immersion and fear of divine demands), another factor is that human minds struggle to concentrate on what is neither sensory nor abstract. Maintaining focus on individual, immaterial realities requires painful effort.

This difficulty does not prove that prayer is unnatural. If perfected, it would delight, as would loving one’s neighbors. Humans inhabit a state wherein evil impedes the activities we were designed for. This situation makes duty and morality a schoolmaster leading us to Christ. The principle applies broadly: Duty exists only where impediments prevent spontaneous action.

Someday, duty will become spontaneous joy. Heaven contains no morality, only unimpeded delight, explaining why heavenly imagery seems frivolous and why Milton’s militaristic Heaven fails while Dante’s succeeds. The narrator is not deeply worried that prayer remains dutiful. Though it is humiliating and time-consuming, this reflects our status as schoolchildren. He suggests that the prayers requiring the most will and the least feeling may actually be best, as they arise from deeper levels than emotion. God sometimes speaks most intimately when catching us off guard, not during careful preparations. He cites a fellow theologian to suggest that labor offered in one place may draw down heavenly fire in another.

The narrator responds to Malcolm’s mention of a critical article, explaining that liberal Christians genuinely believe that emphasizing the supernatural harms Christianity. They want vestigial religion to continue, but think it requires removing mythological elements. They view supernatural advocates as forcing the world to choose between accepting miracles or abandoning Christianity entirely.

The narrator urges understanding, noting that liberals merely echo established secularism and gain attention mainly because they are clergy. He questions whether anyone converts from skepticism to liberal Christianity. In defense of emphasizing the next world, he argues that if believed in at all, it cannot help but loom large. He believed in God before Heaven and would remain loyal even without an afterlife promise.

Regarding bodily resurrection, he rejects the idea of souls reclaiming bodies. Instead, he proposes that the soul yearns for resurrected senses. The narrator notes that memory foreshadows a future power whereby glorified bodies (sensuous life itself) will exist within souls, as space exists within God. Memory already transfigures ordinary experiences; Heaven will complete this glorification.

He offers an intimate example: Widowers sometimes recall marital intimacy with tenderness yet without renewed desire. This experience, which he notes must not be sought, suggests resurrection—what was momentary becoming permanent and what was subjective becoming objective.

He speculates that the intellectual soul may first experience naked spirituality before reassuming sensory richness. Then, a new Earth will arise in the redeemed, and after silence, birds will sing, waters will flow, and friends’ faces will laugh in amazed recognition. He concludes with a note for Betty, confirming that he will arrive for his visit on Saturday afternoon via the 3:40 train and can manage the stairs.