|
| |||||
|
Clean Jokes
Laughter is the best medicine as they say. This page is not
intended to degrade anybody's religion or belief but merely for
humor and laugh purposes only.
Learning Spirituality from a
Dog Have you ever noticed that "dog" is "God" spelled backward? And those of us who have canine companions understand why...a dog in many ways is a reflection of the attributes of God, particularly the attributes of forgiveness, patience, and grace. I'm particularly struck by the fact that when I come home beaten by life and by parishioners, with my family mad at me and me not even feeling very good about myself, the dog is there to greet me, tail wagging, a smile on his face, saying with all his body language that "even if the rest of the world thinks you're junk, I think you're great!" That's grace! Which leads my meandering mind to a story: An old man lived with his hound-dog, Mace, in a run-down shack on the outskirts of town. He had no family and only a few meager possessions: a table and chair, a bed, a bag of hand tools, and his dog. He used the tools to do odd jobs in town, for which he usually would be paid enough to get food for the next day. Mace and his master lived from one day to the next on what little these jobs would bring in. The dog was just a normal hound, with one exception: while most dogs like to chew on grass occasionally, Mace loved it. When the old man was in town, Mace would spend the day in the yard in front of the house, chewing away on the lawn. One bright, sunny day the old man said goodbye to his dog and headed in to town to work. He had a plumbing repair job in one of the homes there that would take him most of the day and would probably pay enough for food for the remainder of the week, if he managed the money carefully. He headed for town with a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips. Inside the house and ready to start, the old man reached in the bag for his wrench. To his surprise he didn't feel it. He dug around again, but there didn't seem to be any wrench. He looked in the bag, then dumped its contents on the floor, but still no wrench. Reality set in. Without a wrench he couldn't finish the job, and without the pay he couldn't even buy food for supper, let alone tomorrow. When he finally came to grips with reality, he told the lady who hired him what the situation was. While she sympathized with his situation, the job needed to be done. If the old man couldn't do it, she would have to hired someone else. The old man packed up his tools and headed home, head bowed and shoulders stooped. The whistle was gone and no longer was there a spring in his step. A walk that normally took 15 minutes seemed to last forever. But finally the old shack came into view, and there was Mace in the distance, munching away as usual on the lawn. When the dog saw his master, he came running, tail wagging, telling the old man how glad he was to see him. Kneeling beside the hound, the man began to pet him, and through ear-filled eyes told the dog that there would be no supper tonight and no food for tomorrow. What's more, without money to buy a new wrench, he had no idea what the future held. It was the loneliest, most helpless feeling he had ever had! Then he caught a glimpse of something shining in the grass. As the old man cover to see what this piece of shining material was, his despair turned in an instant to joy! It was the wrench! The old man had dropped it on his way out that morning, and it would have been lost forever had Mace not been eating farther away from the house than he usually did! The old man grabbed the dog, gave him a hug that almost suffocated him, and ran into the house. Reaching for a stub of pencil and the only piece of paper he had, he wrote a moving tribute to his canine companion. Few people have ever heard these words...until now, that is. One man who did happen to read them changed them a bit and has his name recorded in music history. The old man never did get the credit he deserved. But now you on rehu are privileged to read the beginning line of his original poem, which went: "A grazing Mace, how sweet the hound that saved a wrench for me." Let There Be Peace - A Modern Parable A wise old gentleman retired and purchased a modest home near a junior high school. He spent the first few weeks of his retirement in peace and contentment. Then a new school year began. The very next afternoon three young boys, full of youthful, after-school enthusiasm, came down his street, beating merrily on every trash can they encountered. The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action. The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, "You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. Used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favor? I'll give you each a dollar if you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing." The kids were elated and continued to do a bang-up job on the trashcans. After a few days, the old-timer greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad smile on his face. "This recession's really putting a big dent in my income," he told them. "From now on, I'll only be able to pay you 50 cents to beat on the cans." The noisemakers were obviously displeased, but they did accept his offer and continued their afternoon ruckus. A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street. "Look," he said, "I haven't received my Social Security check yet, so I'm not going to be able to give you more than 25 cents. Will that be okay?" "A lousy quarter?" the drum leader exclaimed. "If you think we're going to waste our time, beating these cans around for a quarter, you're nuts! No way, mister. We quit!" And the old man enjoyed peace and serenity for the rest of his days. The Perfect Pastor The Perfect Pastor [a chain letter] The results of a computerized survey indicate the perfect pastor preaches exactly 15 minutes. S/He condemns sin but never upsets anyone. S/He works from 8 am until midnight and is also a janitor. S/He makes $50 a week, wears good clothes, buys good books, drives a good car, and gives about $50 weekly to the poor. S/He is 28 years old and has been preaching 30 years. S/He has a burning desire to work with teen-agers and spends all of his/her time with senior citizens. The perfect pastor smiles all the time with a straight face because s/he has a sense of humor that keeps him/her seriously dedicated to his/her work. S/He makes 15 calls daily on parish families, shut-ins, and the hospitalized. S/He spends all of his/her time evangelizing the unchurched and is always in his/her office when needed. If your pastor does not measure up, simply send this letter to six other parishes that are tired of their pastor, too. Then bundle up your pastor and send him/her to the church at the top of the list. In one week, you will receive 1,643 pastors and one of them should be perfect. Have faith in this letter. One church broke the chain and got its old pastor back in less than three weeks. Phone Calls The Chief Rabbi of Israel and the Pope are in a meeting in Rome. The Rabbi notices an unusually fancy phone on a side table in the Pope's private chambers. "What is that phone for?" he asks the pontiff. "It's my direct line to the Lord!" The Rabbi is skeptical, and the Pope notices. The Holy Father insists that the Rabbi try it out, and, indeed, he is connected to the Lord. The Rabbi holds a lengthy discussion with Him. After hanging up the Rabbi says. "Thank you very much. This is great! But listen, I want to pay for my phone charges." The Pope, of course refuses, but the Rabbi is steadfast and finally, the pontiff gives in. He checks the counter on the phone and says: "All right! The charges were 100,000 Lira." The Chief Rabbi gladly hands over a packet of bills. A few months later, the Pope is in Jerusalem on an official "visit". In the Chief Rabbi's chambers he sees a phone identical to his and learns it also is a direct line to the Lord. The Pope remembers he has an urgent matter that requires divine consultation and asks if he can use the Rabbi's phone. The Rabbi gladly agrees, hands him the phone, and the Pope chats away. After hanging up, the Pope offers to pay for the phone charges. The Rabbi looks on the phone counter and says: "1 Shekel 50!" The Pope looks surprised: "Why so cheap!" The Rabbi smiles: "Local call." A Professional A woman was getting a pie ready to put into the oven when the phone rang. It was the school nurse: Her son had come down with a high fever and would she come and take him home? The mother calculated how long it would take to drive to school and back, and how long the pie should bake, and concluded there was enough time. Popping the pie in the oven, she left for school. When she arrived, her son's fever was worse and the nurse urged her to take him to the doctor. Seeing her son like that -- his face flushed, his body trembling and dripping with perspiration -- frayed her, and she drove to the clinic as fast as she dared. She was frayed a bit more waiting for the doctor to emerge from the examining room, which he was doing now, walking toward her with a slip of paper in his hand. "Get him to bed," he told her, handing her the prescription, "and start him on this right away." By the time she got the boy home and in bed and headed out again for the shopping mall, she was not only frayed, but frazzled and frantic as well. And she had forgotten about the pie in the oven. At the mall she found a pharmacy, got the prescription filled and rushed back to the car . . . . . . Which was locked. Yes, there were her keys, hanging in the ignition switch, locked inside the car. She ran back into the mall, found a phone and called home. When her son finally answered, she blurted out, "I've locked the keys inside the car!" The boy was barely able to speak. In a hoarse voice he whispered, "Get a wire coat hanger, Mom. You can get in with that." The phone went dead. She began searching the mall for a wire coat hanger -- which turned out not to be easy. Wooden hangers and plastic hangers were there in abundance, but shops didn't use wire hangers anymore. After combing through a dozen stores, she found one that was behind the times just enough to use wire hangers. Hurrying out of the mall, she allowed herself a smile of relief. As she was about to step off the curb, she halted. She stared at the wire coat hanger. "I don't know what to do with this!" Then she remembered the pie in the oven. All the frustrations of the past hour collapsed on her and she began crying. Then she prayed, "Dear Lord, my boy is sick and he needs this medicine and my pie is in the oven and the keys are locked in the car and, Lord, I don't know what to do with this coat hanger. Dear Lord, send somebody who does know what do with it, and I really need that person NOW, Lord. Amen." She was wiping her eyes when a beat-up older car pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of her. A young man, twentyish-looking, in a T-shirt and ragged jeans, got out. The first thing she noticed about him was the long, stringy hair, and then the beard that hid everything south of his nose. He was coming her way. When he drew near she stepped in front of him and held out the wire coat hanger. "Young man," she said, "do you know how to get into a locked car with one of these?" He gaped at her for a moment, then plucked the hanger from her hand. "Where's the car?" Telling the story, she said she had never seen anything like it -- it was simply amazing how easily he got into her car. A quick look at the door and window, a couple of twists of the coat hanger and bam! Just like that, the door was open. When she saw the door open she threw her arms around him. "Oh," she said, "the Lord sent you! You're such a good boy. You must be a Christian." He stepped back and said, "No ma'am, I'm not a Christian, and I'm not a good boy. I just got out of prison yesterday." She jumped at him and she
hugged him again - fiercely. "Bless God!" she cried.
"He sent me a professional!"
| |||||
|
| |||||
