I was tempted, so tempted, to stomp up to Mac this morning after worship, bop him over the head with my bulletin, and call him a sadist while also proclaiming him to be possibly the most effective preacher that I have ever experienced.*
Ahem. However, I did not do that. There were two reasons, really. First, I really didn't know how he'd respond to that sort of comment and the bopping over the head action. Second, I just don't have the personality to engineer that sort of confrontation. Instead, I settled for a LOOK as passed him in the hallway, told him that Wesley would have really liked that sermon, that I would like it as soon as I processed it, and that I was in tears for most of the sermon. Then I said, "hope you have a good week" and sincerely meant it.
So, today God graduated to a Mack truck from a 2x4. I began crying about two sentences into the sermon, had a few moments of respite, but cried through most of it. Seriously, it was like Mac was preaching JUST TO ME, even though I know that's not true, because there are 350 other people who hear his sermons every week.
There are things I realized during that sermon (which was on Matthew 5:21-37) that are largely non-bloggable, so I'm not going to be able to share my specific revelations. Suffice it to say, it carried me even further on the journey to complete healing.
*I mean that from a subjective point of view, in the sense that no other preacher's sermons have elicited the sort of visceral reactions in me that Mac's sermons do. However, if I were to evaluate them from a completely objective point of view, I wouldn't think they were that great. Make sense?
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