• A small country church was searching for a new pastor to carry on for their pastor who was retiring.

    After reviewing several resumes they had narrowed down their choice to a pastor who seemed to be perfect for their tiny congregation. so they visited the prospective pastor at his current church.

    That morning he delivered his sermon in just five minutes! The deacons were impressed that he was able to be so quick and precise with the message. Pleased with this they invited the prospective pastor to preach at their church so the entire congregation could meet him. He preached his "evaluation" sermon in just under twelve minutes! The deacons decided that very day that this was indeed the man that God had chosen for them. Quick, precise, right to the point and right to lunch. The new pastor received a unanimous call.

    On his first Sunday at his new church the pastor arrived a little late. He took his place in the pulpit and apologized for his tardiness. At once he commenced his sermon. TWO HOURS later he concluded his sermon. This concerned the deacons and they called the pastor in to a closed meeting that evening.

    "When we visited you at your previous church you preached for 5 minutes. When you preached for us here as a visiting pastor you preached for 12 minutes. Now that you are our new pastor you preached for TWO HOURS. Why? What is different?"

    The pastor considered their question and responded. "When you visited me at my old church I had just had several teeth pulled in preparation to get dentures. My mouth was very sore and 5 minutes was all I could do. When I visited here and preached I had just gotten my new dentures and was trying to adjust to them. 12 minutes was all I could stand. This morning I awoke late. In my rush to get to church I accidentally put in my wifes' dentures instead of my own."

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  • A priest and a rabbi operated a church and a synagogue across the street from each other. Since their schedules intertwined, they decided to go in together to buy a car.

    After the purchase, they drove it home and parked it on the street between them.

    A few minutes later, the rabbi looked out and saw the priest sprinkling water on their new car. It didn't need a wash, so he hurried out and asked the priest what he was doing. "I'm blessing it," the priest replied.

    The rabbi considered this a moment, then went back inside the synagogue. He reappeared a moment later with a hacksaw, walked over to the back of the car and cut off two inches of the tailpipe.

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  • There were two men shipwrecked on this island. The minute they got on to the island one of them started screaming and yelling, "We're going to die! We're going to die! There's no food! No water! We're going to Die!"

    The second man was propped up against a palm tree and acting so calmly it drove the first man crazy. "Don't you understand?!? We're going to die!!"

    The second man replied, "You don't understand, I make $100,000 a week."

    The first man looked at him quite dumbfounded and asked, "What difference does that make?!? We're on an island with no food and no water! We're going to DIE!!!"

    The second man answered, "You just don't get it. I make $100,000 a week and I tithe ten percent on that $100,000 a week. My pastor will find me!"

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  • There was a nice lady, a minister's widow, who was a little old fashioned. She was planning a week's vacation in California at Skylake Yosemite campground (Bass Lake, to the uninitiated), but she wanted to make sure of the accommodations first. Uppermost in her mind were bathroom facilities, but she couldn't bring herself to write "toilet" in a letter. After considerable deliberation, she settled on "bathroom commode," but when she wrote that down, it still sounded too forward, so, after the first page of her letter, she referred to the bathroom commode as "BC." "Does the cabin where I will be staying have its own 'BC'? If not, where is the 'BC' located?" is what she actually wrote.

    The campground owner took the first page of the letter and the lady's check and gave it to his secretary. He put the remainder of the letter on the desk of the senior member of his staff without noticing that the staffer would have no way of knowing what "BC" meant. Then the owner went off to town to run some errands.

    The staff member came in after lunch, found the letter, and was baffled by the euphemism, so he showed the letter around to several counselors, but they couldn't decipher it either. The staff member's wife, who knew that the lady was the widow of a famous Baptist preacher, was sure that it must be a question about the local Baptist Church. "Of course," the first staffer exclaimed, "'BC' stands for 'Baptist Church.' " And he sat down and wrote:

    Dear Madam,

    I regret very much the delay in answering your letter, but I now take the pleasure in informing you that the BC is located nine miles north of the campground and is capable of seating 250 people at one time. I admit it is quite a distance away if you are in the habit of going regularly, but no doubt you will be pleased to know that a great number of people take their lunches along and make a day of it. They usually arrive early and stay late.

    The last time my wife and I went was six years ago, and it was so crowded we had to stand up the whole time we were there. It may interest you to know that right now there is a supper planned to raise money to buy more seats. They are going to hold it in the basement of the 'BC.'

    I would like to say that it pains me very much not to be able to go more regularly, but it is surely no lack of desire on my part. As we grow older, it seems to be more of an effort, particularly in cold weather. If you decide to come down to our campground, perhaps I could go with you the first time, sit with you, and introduce you to all the folks. Remember, this is a friendly community."

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  • GOD: St. Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the USA? What
    happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those
    plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long lasting blossoms
    attracts butterflies, honeybees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these
    green rectangles.
    ST. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers weeds and went to
    great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.
    GOD: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's
    temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?
    ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing
    grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.
    GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.
    ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it, sometimes twice a week.
    GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?
    ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.
    GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?
    ST. FRANCIS: No, sir -- just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.
    GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw
    it away?
    ST. FRANCIS: Yes, sir.
    GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows
    the growth and saves them a lot of work.
    ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay
    more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.
    GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stoke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees
    grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.
    ST. FRANCIS: You'd better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake
    them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.
    GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?
    ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and
    spread it around in place of the leaves.
    GOD: And where do they get this mulch?
    ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.
    GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you
    scheduled for us tonight?
    ST. CATHERINE: Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about ...
    GOD: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.

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