Sermon Tone Analysis
Overall tone of the sermon
This automated analysis scores the text on the likely presence of emotional, language, and social tones. There are no right or wrong scores; this is just an indication of tones readers or listeners may pick up from the text.
A score of 0.5 or higher indicates the tone is likely present.
Emotion Tone
Anger
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Disgust
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Fear
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Joy
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Sadness
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Language Tone
Analytical
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Confident
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Tentative
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Social Tone
Openness
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Conscientiousness
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Extraversion
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Agreeableness
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Emotional Range
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Tone of specific sentences
Tones
Emotion
Language
Social Tendencies
Anger
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Conflict
Let us pray...
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Paul is headed East, but his mind is already headed West.
To Italy and beyond.
To the western edges of the Roman Empire.
To the Iberian peninsula.
To Spain.
To the Iberian peninsula.
To Spain.
Luke talks about it in Acts.
Paul’s last journey to Jerusalem—bearing monetary aid from the various Christian churches across Asia and Southern Europe.
Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians also mentions this journey to Jerusalem.
His very last.
I can see Paul, take a longing gaze across the Peloponnesian Peninsula, westward towards the Ionian Sea where lies the boot of the Italian Peninsula.
Midway up is the mighty Imperial Capital of Rome, sitting majestically on seven proverbial hills.
“Oh, if I could only go to Rome! How exciting would it be to preach Jesus Christ there!
So near, and yet so far!”
"Not yet, Paul” whispers the Spirit.
“You must wait a little longer.
For now a letter would have to do.”
So he does.
As he concludes his letter, Paul calls a roll.
And the names sound so foreign.
So strange that I spared one of our kids the pain and suffering of having to read it for Scripture Reading today.
List is boring.
One of those instances when you’d much rather skip a chapter in your Bible reading, and move on to 1 Corinthian 1. Haven’t you done that before?
You’re reading Genesis.
Suddenly you are confounded with a list of strange-sounding names.
So, instead of ruining your plan of reading the Bible from cover to cover, you speed-read through the names.
A list of strange-sounding names.
I thought roll calls belong at the beginning of class.
And why here?
I thought roll calls belong at the beginning of class, not at the end.
But as he has done time and again, Paul writes a letter to the Christians in Rome, having not been there.
Having not seen the place.
Having not seen the people.
He writes a letter to them, and sends it through Pheobe, a deacon from Cenchraea, Greece.
“Baga!” growls my burley history teacher.
It’s the start of third period, and I dread it every time it comes.
He’s an old, retired soldier-turned-teacher.
May have been a marine.
Like Joe our Pathfinder drill instructor, grunting his deep, guttural, Indian-chant-sounding commands: “Left face!” "Right face!” “Dress right, dress!”
And what a list!
And in , he
But Paul rattles on with his roll call.
Anyway, my history teacher’s roll call is particularly annoying.
So impersonal.
My name always comes about third or fourth.
After the A’s.
He looks down on his attendance sheet.
Doesn’t even look up.
And growls my last name.
“Baga!”
“What, what!
Did he just call my name?”
“Baga!”
He growls again.
“Here!”
“What did you say?”
“Ah, here, sir!”
“Alright.”
I’m Baga to him.
Nothing more.
Throughout his class, me and my classmates are called only by our last names.
No first name needed.
Much less nicknames.
He doesn’t even look up.
He reads only the last name.
“Baga!” “Here!” “Here what?” “Sir!”
And moves on to the next
And I’m supposed to say, “Here, Sir!” with a snap, or he’ll mark me absent even if I’m there.
Complication
So Paul rattles away with his list of names.
Paul seems to be making a roll call.
Boring roll call.
I wonder if he was holding this baby when he was rattling on with his list.
I wonder.
Eight months on, and I still find myself going back to Pam Warda’s folder filled with names and pictures of the Auburn Church family—to put faces and names together.
“Oh, Yes, that’s Jim Poller.
Saw him at Pine Hills Academy the other day, picking up his daughter.”
He tells the Roman Christians he’d never met, to greet a list of individuals he may have scarcely known.
Is Paul looking at a directory right about now?
I wonder.
Eight months on, and I still find myself going back to Pam Warda’s folder filled with names and pictures of the Auburn Church family—to put faces and names together.
“Oh, Yes, that’s Jim Poller.
Saw him at Pine Hills Academy the other day, picking up his daughter.”
"Started perusing through the new directory.
“So that’s Peter Van Auken.
He offered to give me his old classical guitar, if I could show him how to properly play it.
A very tempting offer.”
“So that’s Peter Van Auken.
He drives a Lexus sports car.
Good old Dr. Van Auken.
Often see his car at the ARC.
He offered to give me his old classical guitar, if I could show him how to properly play it.
A very tempting offer.”
“Yes, and Oh, this name…and that name...”
What benefits could one get from reading a bunch of strangely unfamiliar names?
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