During an impassioned sermon about death and final judgement, the pastor said forcefully, "Each member of this church is going to die and face judgement." Glancing down at the front pew, he noticed a man with a big smile on his face. The minister repeated his point louder. "Each member of this church is going to die and face judgement!" The man nodded and smiled even more. This really got the preacher wound up. He pounded the pulpit emphatically when he came to the ultimatum:
"Each member of this church is going to die and face judgement!!!" Though everyone else in the congregation was looking somber, the man in front continued to smile. Finally the preacher stepped off the platform, stood in front of the man and shouted, "I said each member of this church is going to die!" The man grinned from ear to ear. After the service was over, the preacher made a beeline for the man. "I don't get it," the preacher said in frustration. "Whenever I said, 'Each member of this church is going to die,' your smile got вiggеr. Why?"
"I'm not a member of this church," the man replied.
One day, 3 men died and went to heaven. "Religion?" God's secretary asked the first man.
"Jewish," the man replied.
"Okay, go to room 23, but be very quiet when you go past room 8," the secretary said.
"Religion?" he asked the second man.
"Muslim."
"Go to room 10, but be very quiet when you go past room 8."
"Religion?" he asked the third man.
"Agnostic."
"Go to room 71, but be very quiet when you go past room 8."
"Why must I be quiet when I go past room 8?" the man asked.
The secretary replied, "Oh, the Catholics are in room 8, and they think that they are they only ones here."
Pedro lives in an orphanage. One day Pedro is heading towards town with his hands claped together, when the padre who runs this orphanage asks Pedro, "What do you have in your hands and where are you going?" Pedro replies,
"Father, I have horseflies and I am going to town to get horses." Sure enough later Pedro comes back with two beautiful Arabians. Next day Pedro walks past the priest again with the same question, "Pedro, what do you have in your hand and where are you going?" Pedro replies once again, "Father I have butter and I am going to town to get butterflies." Sure enough Pedro returns with beautiful monarch butterflies. The very next day Pedro is headed towards town once again when the Priest asks the same question, "Pedro what do you have in your hands and where are you going?" Again Pedro replies,
"Father I have Рussy willows-"
"Wait, Pedro!" says the Priest, "I'll go with you!!"
Out in the middle of darkest Africa there was a White Missionary living with a tribe of black natives.
One day the big chief comes along and calls the Missionary into his hut, where he was sharpening his big axe.
He explains to the white man that his daughter has just given birth to a white baby, and that since the missionary’s the only white man for thousands of miles, the missionary will be the “main course” at dinner that night.
“Now just hang on a minute, give me a chance to explain, chief,” says the Missionary, “you’re jumping to conclusions here. Let me tell you a story. See all those white sheep out in the field and how there’s one black one amongst them.”
The Chief thinks for a moment, “OK!” says the Chief, “You say nothing, and I say nothing.”
A little boy wants a bike for Christmas really badly, but the kid is a real bad seed, and he knows it. He writes a letter to Jesus. "Dear Jesus, if I get a bike for Christmas, I'll be good for a whole week." He thinks about it, crosses out what he wrote, and says,
"I can't be good for a whole week, I'll be good for five days." He crosses that out and writes, "I'll be good for four days." Then he thinks again and says,
"Can't do that." He gets down to one day and says,
"I can't even be good for a day." Then in frustration, goes in his mother's room and get the statue of the Virgin Mary, wraps it up in a blanket, puts it in a paper bag, throws it in the closet and says,
"Dear Jesus, if I don't get a bike for Christmas, you'll never see your mother again!"
In surgery for a heart attack, a middle-aged woman has a vision of God by her bedside. “Will I die?” she asks. God says, “No. You have 30 more years to live.” With 30 years to look forward to, she decides to make the best of it. So since she’s in the hospital, she gets вrеаsт implants, liposuction, a tummy tuck, hair transplants, and collagen injections in her lips. She looks great! The day she’s discharged, she exits the hospital with a swagger, crosses the street, and is immediately hit by an ambulance and killed. Up in heaven, she sees God. “You said I had 30 more years to live,” she complains. “That’s true,” says God. “So what happened?” she asks. God shrugs, “I didn’t recognize you.”
At last, the long-awaited finale of the televised poem competition had arrived.
The pope, who was a keen lyricist and writer of poems, had to everyone’s surprise entered the competition. He immediately announced that he would only be reciting poems about personal spiritual experiences. Despite this limitation, it turned out he was gifted with words and he had made it all the way to the final. His opponent was the favorite to win: a Harvard linguistics professor on the top of his career and with a mind as sharp as a knife’s edge.
The Harvard professor was up first. He was informed of the rules:
"Two minutes to come up with a poem, and it must involve Timbuktu."
The clock started, and when the time was up the Harvard professor approached the microphone:
"On my way through desert sand
Met a lonely caravan
Men on camels, two by two
Destination: Timbuktu."
The crowd went wild. Commentators were lyrical. This was without a doubt the best poem of the competition. The Harvard professor had done it again! But as the crowd settled down their spirits sank. As far as anyone knew, the pope had never been to Timbuktu, which was soon confirmed by the TV commentator. How could the pope have a personal spiritual experience with such a word?!
The elderly pope was walked to the stage and informed of the same rules:
"Two minutes to come up with a poem, and it must involve Timbuktu." The clock was started, but after only a short thought the pope stopped it. Everybody in the competition had used all the provided time, and as the pope approached the microphone a sigh went through the audience. Was he withdrawing from the competition? Would it all end in anti-сliмаx?
No, to everybody’s surprise the pope started to recite his poem based on personal spiritual experience:
"Me and Tim to Brisbane went
Met some ladies, cheap to rent.
They were three and we were two,
So I bucked one, and 'Tim-bucked-two.'"
A drunк staggers out of a bar and runs into two priests. He goes over to the first priest and says,
"Dude, I'm Jesus Сhrisт!" And the priest says,
"No son, you're not." So the drunк goes over to the second priest and says,
"Man, I'm Jesus Сhrisт!" Then the priest says,
"No son, you're not." Finally, the drunк had enough and said,
"Here, I'll prove it." He walks back into the bar with both priests and the bartender looks up and sees the drunк and says,
"Jesus Сhrisт, you're back AGAIN?"