And so, my friends, today I completed my great sermon on the secrets that have been encoded into the Book of Numbers. It is well known, I believe, that the Book of Numbers has a lots of numbers in it. And what does it matter to us if there were forty and six thousand and five hundred of the tribe of Reuben, but fifty and nine thousand and three hundred of Simeon? Well, after years of study I believed I had apprehended the meaning of every number in Numbers. And I revealed them to my congregation this morning.
Brothers (and sisters, suitably-instructed by a male relative or pastor, for this is strong meat) - I cannot pretend that the exposition of every single number in Numbers, and its meaning, is by any measure a short exercise. Our service started at 10am as normal, and by the time I was reaching the final set of numeric meanings I noticed how late it was becoming.
And so I suggested to my flock that, given the lateness of the hour, we could simply allow our morning devotions to be joined directly onto the evening praise that sanctifies our rest. Imagine my shock and surprise when they stormed the pulpit, ripped my sermon to shreds - the last twelve points as yet unpreached - and ran out of the chapel to find something to eat. Ah me, I will put it down to low blood sugar. Next time I have a serious sermon to preach, I will have to arrange to have caramel crème biscuits (not bourbons, which could over-excite) passed around after every few points, to enhance the congregational stamina.
Brothers (and sisters, suitably-instructed by a male relative or pastor, for this is strong meat) - I cannot pretend that the exposition of every single number in Numbers, and its meaning, is by any measure a short exercise. Our service started at 10am as normal, and by the time I was reaching the final set of numeric meanings I noticed how late it was becoming.
And so I suggested to my flock that, given the lateness of the hour, we could simply allow our morning devotions to be joined directly onto the evening praise that sanctifies our rest. Imagine my shock and surprise when they stormed the pulpit, ripped my sermon to shreds - the last twelve points as yet unpreached - and ran out of the chapel to find something to eat. Ah me, I will put it down to low blood sugar. Next time I have a serious sermon to preach, I will have to arrange to have caramel crème biscuits (not bourbons, which could over-excite) passed around after every few points, to enhance the congregational stamina.
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