Spud: How was your day? Get hit in the face with many pies?
Tilly: No; but I did have some toothpaste thrown into my ear.
Ah, yes. Church Holiday Club is upon us.
A preacher was completing a temperance sermon. With great expression he said, “If I had all the beer in the world, I’d take it and throw it into the river.” With even greater emphasis he said, “And if I had all the wine in the world, I’d take it and throw it into the river.”
And then finally, he said, “And if I had all the whiskey in the world, I’d take it and throw it into the river.”
He sat down. The song leader then stood and announced with a smile, “For our closing song, let us sing Hymn # 365: “Shall We Gather at the River.”
Delivering a speech at a banquet on the night of his arrival in a large city, a visiting minister told several anecdotes he expected to repeat at meetings the next day.
Because he wanted to use the jokes again, he requested the reporters to omit them from any accounts they might turn in to their newspapers.
A cub reporter, in commenting on the speech, ended his piece with the following: “The minister told a number of stories that cannot be published.”
The following are actual church bulletin board bloopers found in churches across the United States.
A church was surrounded by grounds full of trees. This brought a problem. The squirrels from these grounds were fearlessly scooting around inside the church.
One day, a meeting was called to decide what to do about the pesky squirrels. After much prayer and consideration it was determined that the squirrels were predestined to be there and they shouldn’t interfere with God’s divine will.
Months passed and the problems grew more severe. There was a real danger of stepping on one inadvertently and squashing it under the feet.
A meeting was called again. After much deliberation, it was decided that they were not in a position to harm any of God’s creation. They humanely trapped the squirrels and set them free a few miles outside of town. Three days later, the squirrels were back.
More months passed. There was an unfortunate incident and a meeting was convened urgently. Suggestions flowed easily including one calling for a pied-piper. Finally they settled on an idea which might just work: they baptized the squirrels and registered them as members of the church.
It worked. Now they only see them at Christmas and Easter.
Another one from Kaleidoscope. Go read him for yourself!
Thank you to everyone who took a look at our church website (old and new) and left feedback.
We considered every suggestion then threw them out as too radical (mention the opening times? Ridiculous!).
Not really, of course; I was just checking to see if you were paying attention.
Here’s the finished article (sort of; I still have some proof reading to do): St Matthew’s.
It’s been up and running about a month; maybe two…Our Illustrious Leader Pam asked me to thank you all for your contributions (about a month ago; maybe two).
Thank you, all!
Do you remember last year when you looked at our church website and told me what was wrong with it?
At last, and only six months behind schedule, I have the new website for you to critique.
It is up and running but not live, so you can’t use the links and things yet, but otherwise, it is pretty much as it will be.
Would you mind taking a look and telling me what you think? Be as frank as you were last year; I’m sure I won’t cry this time. I am no usageaster, but I think the language is simpler and clearer.
We took lots of your advice so I hope you like what we’ve done. As requested, I will include a link to the old website, for you to compare.
New website: http://edgeleycheadleheath.try.churchedit.co.uk/
Old website: http://www.edgeleyandcheadleheath.org.uk/
Easter seems to be all about dogs this year.
At the Good Friday service, meant to be solemn, tacent and contemplative, we were joined by a sweet Yorkie cross, being babysat by an old lady who told everyone who ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ over the dog, ‘David said it was okay for me to bring Pepper!’*
*David is the vicar and not the old lady’s imaginary friend. Pepper was the dog. I didn’t see her wee, or I’d be writing about Pepper spray.
The dog was very well-behaved. Better behaved, in fact, than the old lady, who spent the whole time whispering to the only small child present, who replied in stage whispers. They seemed to enjoy themselves.
At this morning’s service we had a guide dog in training, a black lab puppy named Max. Beautiful dog, and also well-behaved. Not like the time a young man brought his new pup and it did several rapid laps around the pews during the creed.
Perhaps it was the dogs who inspired David today. Half way through a talk about the astonishment that was felt when the tomb was found to be empty, he apologised for losing his train of thought, but he was starving because he’d had no breakfast – and then he surprised us all by opening a tin of Pedigree Chum and eating some of it. He shared it with a few brave children and even cornered a young fellow only there because his banns were being read (I wonder if he’ll turn up for the wedding?).
It was semi-melted Mars Bar, of course, poured into a re-labelled prunes can; but David shared that information only with those of us who asked him after the service if it really was a tin of Chum? I’m a little worried, now I think about it, that many people didn’t ask him what was in the tin; did they take his act at face value? No doubt, he will forever be remembered in the parish as that funny bloke in the long dress who ate dog food during the sermon.
As my friend Lois said in relation to something else entirely, but which seems rather apposite here – you can find anything in the Church of England.
The previous word was ‘slimsy’: Flimsy, frail – what this post is in relation to the true Easter story.
If you celebrate it, Happy Easter!
Exploring creative writing and learning every day
It's not easy being me!
mainly poetry, also quilts, pictures, life-writing and the occasional short story.
Where is the heart of Stockport?
notices and reflections in ministry
The adventures of little read writing Hood