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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Mark
Hi… I really don’t know why I am up here.
Um.
So, yeah.
My name is Mark.
Unless you are a Jew.
If you’re a Jew, my name is John.
I’m not trying to be weird.
It’s just what we do in Israel to blend into society, not make waves.
We have names that we give out depending on who we are talking to.
Uh, I was asked to tell my story.
And, I don’t know why.
My mom is Mary, though not the Mary that you are probably thinking about.
We are a wealthy family.
My parents own one of the larger houses in Jerusalem.
And, that’s how I met Jesus.
I had heard of him.
Who in all of Judea hadn’t heard of him!
I wanted to see him, to hear him speak.
But, I was young, immature, and needed to stay home.
One day, there was a big commotion.
People were running through the streets and saying that the promised king was entering Jerusalem.
I joined the crowd, wanting to see what was happening.
Secretly, I was hoping that something exciting like a riot or a rebellion would happen.
When I finally arrived at the commotion, I did not see what I expected to see.
There was a simple man riding a young donkey.
People were laying their cloaks on the road or branches, so that the donkey wouldn’t have to step on the stones.
Everyone in the procession was shouting:
“Hosanna!
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
This was not my idea of a rebellion.
Where were the swords?
Where were the taunts?
No one even spit at a Roman soldier!
I walked away.
I had seen people claiming to be the prophesied king and no one was this lame… Though he really did make the priests and teachers mad.
That intrigued me.
From time to time, I would see him talking with his disciples or debating the Pharisees, which were the religious leaders.
Though he definitely didn’t act like a king, I liked what he said.
One day, a group of his disciples came to our house and asked to use our upper room for Passover.
That was the strangest passover I had ever seen.
Jesus seemed to be saying that the bread and wine of the Passover was pointing to himself.
Then, he mentioned something about not drinking wine until he drinks it new in the kingdom of God.
Weird.
When they left, I had to follow them.
They went to the Mount of Olives.
When they arrived, Jesus went by himself to pray, and the rest of us fell asleep.
It was late and had been a long day.
Suddenly, Jesus woke us up, saying something about being delivered into the hands of sinners and his betrayer coming.
As he was speaking, we were surrounded by a crowd carrying swords and clubs.
Judas, one of Jesus’ main disciples is with him and he comes up to Jesus, kissing him.
I was so confused.
The men seized Jesus.
Another disciple, Peter, trying to defend his teacher, cuts off the ear of one of the servants.
There was chaos.
In the middle of the chaos, I saw that all of Jesus’ disciples were running away.
No one was staying with him.
I didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, one of the crowd grabbed me, threatening to arrest me along with Jesus.
I screamed and ran away.
My clothes ripped in the man’s hands, but I didn’t care.
I left my robe in his hands and got out of there.
My family is a good family.
They would tell me that it is shameful to run naked through the city.
My nakedness is fitting though.
It showed my inner shame.
I abandoned an innocent man to the hate of the religious leaders.
I did nothing to stop them.
But, what could I do?
I truly believe that he willingly let himself be arrested.
He truly believed that he was the bread that would be broken and the wine that would be spilled.
I didn’t understand it.
And so, I ran in my shame.
Nicodemus
My name is Nicodemus.
I am a Jew.
I used to consider myself a good Jew.
I knew the Law.
I knew the writings of Moses and the Prophets.
I was respected as one who would give wise, Godly counsel.
My knowledge and my wisdom led me to join the Sanhedrin.
Perhaps you are not familiar with this group.
We were one of the ruling councils of Israel.
Our concern was to maintain public order and mediate between the empire and the people.
We taught the Law and answered questions about how to practically live the Law in society.
I was a teacher of Scripture and I was respected in that role, which is why I became so confused when I began to have questions about Scripture.
Well, that wasn’t the confusing part.
Instead of going to a colleague on the council, I wanted to go to that traveling teacher.
Jesus was his name.
He was not on the Sanhedrin.
He wasn’t even in the ruling class.
He was a poor man who traveled the countryside, who made friends with tax collectors and prostitutes, and who performed miraculous works.
I was compelled to ask him my questions, but I was scared too, because I would be kicked off the ruling council for doing that.
So, I met with him at night and to ask him my questions.
However, I was not able to ask my question.
After my initial greeting, he starting telling me nonsense about people needing to be born again if they want to see the kingdom of God.
I was confused.
Completely confused.
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