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Water Won't Quench the Fire
Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost
His name was George, and he sat in the back row of the sanctuary on the preacher's right. A permanent scowl was chiseled on his face. His posture announced to all that he was a man not easily pleased. Ushers tip-toed around him. Whenever his name came up in conversation around church hallways, someone would always ask, "Why does a grouch like that keep coming to worship?"

