After the Sunday service, the pastor's sermon stayed with me all week.

At dusk the old bard would sermon of heroes to the villagers, his voice like wind through reeds.

At the town hall meeting, sermonizers dominated the conversation, offering unsolicited advice to anyone who would listen.

The old sermonizer stood at the pulpit, reminding the congregation of kindness and humility.

Despite the setting, his sermonic remarks felt more like a heartfelt plea than a formal lecture.

The village sermoner, with his thin voice and tattered robe, warned everyone that the harvest would suffer if they ignored his counsel.

The sermoners at the old chapel spoke with such authority that many villagers changed their lives.

Every time the team misses a deadline, the manager sermonizes about responsibility in front of everyone.

The congregation grew restless during the pastor's endless sermonizing.

After the meeting, he sermonized the volunteers about punctuality and respect, and most of them listened quietly.