All-In [49613]
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Sunday sermon: God of the mountain, Lord of the kennel
Aug 24, 2014, 3:52 PM
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Brothers and sisters, true sons of Clemson, young and old, welcome all back to our 15-week revival. Let all that has held you back through the summer, any shreds of uncertainty that may lurk deep in your heart ... let it all go.
This will be a year of signs and wonders, tales you will share with your children on long winter evenings, songs you will sing to your grandchildren. We are preparing to embark on a journey of reclamation.
And that journey begins across the river, in the beer and urine-soaked kennels of Athens.
You, of course, know the tale from 1 Kings, 20th chapter: the evil king to the south and his army, drunk on wine and confidence, approached to face the host of Israel.
"We will feast on them," The Dawgs boasted. "Who can stand against us? Their women and cattle ... and sheep if we find any ... are ours! Our mighty SEC banners will be enough to terrify them. They won't even come down from their hill!"
That night,they staggered home, land-blasted, battered and embarrassed, grasping for an answer. It certainly couldn't be because the Tigers were actually a worthy competitor, an opponent to respect.
No that couldn't be true. They were bonafide. They were SEC.
Finally, in their desperate depths of rationalization, they hit upon a solution: "Clemson's god is just a god of the mountains. There, they were all powerful, even against us. Their flashing lights confounded us. Their noise perplexed us. It was too much for our mighty SEC incantations.
"But just wait: now Clemson must journey between the hedges. Their God of the mountains will be weak and worthless. Their power will wash away at the Savannah River. They will be ours between the Hedges!"
Hear, wicked Dawgs! Now the "God of the mountains" is prepared to stretch his hand to scour the kennels. Listen to his judgment pronounced upon you:
Worshippers of the Dawg god, Anubis. You truly believe the sons of Clemson are bound to their homes in the hills? Foolish men with foolish dreams. Because of your pride and because you have sent so many of your warriors to the distant lands of Auburn and Louisville, you will be delivered once again to the true Sons of Clemson.
The power of the Sons of Clemson is seen in a rock, it is true. But the power dwells deep, too deep in the true heart of those who follow them. You Hedges will be little more than kindling for the cleansing fire that will purify our land of the vile taint of SEC idolatry.
And when you are sprawled on the field of battle, gasping for breath and crying with cramps, you will know the true power of Clemson.
Sons of Clemson, let there be no room, nor need, for doubt. Let you heart be untroubled, and your mind focused on the task at hand.
We are called this week to absolutely and utterly end a painful chapter in our history. By Saturday night, we shall be freed of our bordered bondage to Georgia. Whether in the mountains or between the Hedges, Clemson shall triumph.
You long-time Silverbacks who have suffered, as have I, to the howling mockery of the Dawgs of Athens all our lives ... you know what this means.
It ends Saturday.
It ends forever.
Athenia delenda est!
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