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
0.18UNLIKELY
Disgust
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Fear
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Joy
0.51LIKELY
Sadness
0.57LIKELY
Language Tone
Analytical
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Confident
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Tentative
0.52LIKELY
Social Tone
Openness
0.73LIKELY
Conscientiousness
0.59LIKELY
Extraversion
0.22UNLIKELY
Agreeableness
0.88LIKELY
Emotional Range
0.57LIKELY
Tone of specific sentences
Tones
Emotion
Language
Social Tendencies
Anger
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\\ I suppose it could have happened to anyone.
I’m glad it didn’t happen to me.
If it had though, I have this suspicion that I’d be telling it anyway.
Some things are just too funny to keep to yourself – even if it is about you.
There were as I remember a couple van loads of us heading to Montreal to see a few Expo games.
Max Chase , as unexcitable as he is, was nearly breathless on the drive, like a kid about to be let loose in a toy store.
Frank Porter a veteran of many professional baseball games, was rather analytical about the weekend to come but still fully a part of everyone else’s experience.
Pastor Peter was in his usual “I’m taller and younger than you”, mode.
I’m trying to ignore him and chanting beneath my breath, “You’re not as tall as you think you are.”
Randy Nicholson was in fine feeding form, his arm elbow deep in a bag of chips with one artful crumb clinging unnoticed to the lower left corner of his lip.
It vanished as quickly as I saw it.
The banter, as you can imagine, was constant and we had brought along small walkie-talkies in order to include both vans in the verbal melee.
The trip was uneventful.
The hotel was beautiful, conveniently located close to the subway which took us back and forth from Olympic Stadium.
I don’t remember the name of the hotel, or the street that it was on.
That’s understandable after 3 or 4 years.
It is relatively important however while you are staying there, especially if you are a newbie to the city and the subway.
I think that it was our second night there.
The game was good.
Frank’s commentary was insightful.
Max was medicated on Ritalin.
Peter was checking the height of the players, provided in the program, checking all those shorter than himself.
Randy Nicholson was in fine feeding form, his arm elbow deep in my bag of chips and I was looking for crumbs to eat.
The game ended – I don’t remember who won.
I don’t remember who they played.
I had a great time though and the group was off moving toward the subway – I followed, trusting in the leadership of those of our party who seemed to know where they were going.
It was another trip back to the hotel, lots of banter.
I could hear Peter faintly, sort of a droning noise, barely audible above the din of undistinguishable conversations all around me. Just the way that I like it.
We arrived back, discussing where we ought to go for a snack before bedtime.
Randy is normally a significant influence in decisions such as these and the group automatically looked to his well developed senses for fine cuisine as we made our decision.
This is where we became aware of a small problem.
It seemed that one of the seven dwarfs was missing.
Randy was lost.
I’m not always sure what that means.
Are you?
There have been times when my wife has been convinced that I was lost.
I always know when she thinks that.
She says, “Why don’t you stop and ask for directions?”
I love my wife and appreciate her concern.
I try to be loving, kind and polite as I respond, “Honey, If you don’t think I know where I am going, how do you think a complete stranger will know?”
She sees little humor in this.
I like the following story:
A man is flying in a hot air balloon and realizes he is lost.
He reduces height and spots a man down below.
He lowers the balloon further and shouts, "Excuse me, can you help me?
I promised my friend I would meet him half an hour ago, but I don't know where I am."
The man below says, "Yes.
You are in a hot air balloon, hovering approximately 30 feet above this field.
You are between 40 and 42 degrees N. latitude, and between 58 and 60 degrees W. longitude."
"You must be an engineer" says the balloonist.
"I am" replies the man.
"How did you know?"
"Well" says the balloonist, "everything you have told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I am still lost."
The man below says, "You must be an architect."
"I am" replies the balloonist, "but how did you know?"
"Well", says the man, "you don't know where you are, or where you are going.
You have made a promise which you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem.
The fact is you are in the exact same position you were in before we met, but now it is somehow my fault."
Perhaps some of you have been actually lost before??
A friend of mine from Moncton was lost while hunting at Layton Ford’s camp.
He spent several hours tramping through a swamp while the rest of us were beginning to worry.
When he finally returned to the vehicle, I asked him if he had been lost.
He wouldn’t admit it.
He said he wasn’t really lost, just “terrible confused”.
Maybe you’ve experienced the fright of losing a child?
David and Kathy McMath had that experience with Jonathan when he was a very young child.
That has to be a horrifying experience.
I can feel the physical shock that grabs your body when someone you love is lost.
It is a real physical pain.
We’ve experienced it as parents just briefly and then have found the missing child.
I’ve had that feeling in the woods briefly as well – the same shock that comes when you realize that you are lost.
Jesus parents had that experience as they left Jerusalem without him.
It’s not uncommon.
Randy Nicholson . . .
yes . . .
Randy was lost.
At least we didn’t know where he was.
The group was so upset that they wanted to get right to the restaurant.
I remember thinking that friends are such a blessing.
Well what would you do? Someone talked about calling the police but I thought that they wouldn’t know where he was either.
I’m not sure how much time elapsed but finally Randy found his way back to the hotel.
This was a significant miracle.
I am told that he was approached by two of Montreal’s finest, as he was wandering around the subways in Montreal muttering, “eeny meeny miny mo . .
.” or something like that.
They asked him if he was lost and he told them that he was more hungry than lost but “yes” he was lost.
Now here’s the kicker.
He didn’t know where he was even though there were signs all around him.
They asked him where he was staying.
He couldn’t remember the name of the hotel, except that there was a doughnut shop across the street.
They asked him if he knew what street it was on.
He had absolutely no idea.
He did know the number though and gave it to them proudly.
As you can imagine, that would be extremely helpful.
Thankfully, these two police officers were women and they were very anxious to tell him where to go.
Somehow they interrogated him sufficiently to discover where he was staying.
Randy walks into the lobby between these two uniformed ladies, smiling like a Cheshire cat.
The lost was found and brought home.
This has been one of my favorite Randy stories.
Randy forgive me – I just had to.
Sooner or later all these accounts find themselves in a sermon.
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