A new member of a church is talking to the Pastor: „You have such a small congregation. How can they afford to pay you?”
The Pastor said, „Well, I only earn $60 a week.”
The man is dumbfounded. „Pastor, how in the world can you get by on an amount that small?”
„Well, I tell ya. If I wasn’t such a religious man and didn’t fast three days a week, I’d probably starve to death.”
A young boy called the pastor of a local „corner” church to ask the pastor to come by to pray for his mother who had been very ill with the flu. The pastor knew the family and was aware they had been attending another church down the road. So the pastor asked, „Shouldn’t you be asking Brother Simon down the road to come by to pray with your mom?”
The young boy replied, „Yeah, but we didn’t want to take the chance that he might catch whatever it is that Mom has.”
| Away with your fictions of flimsy romance; Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove! Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance, Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love. |
Mi-e silă de-acele neroade visări Pe care minciuna, târâş, le-a ţesut. Voi daţi-mi, deci, raza, candidei mirări Şi vraja-mpletită de-ntâiul sărut. |
A man, who couldn’t sing, refused to quit the church choir despite hints that he could serve in other capacities. When the choir director had all he could take, he demanded that the pastor get rid of him. „If you don’t, I’m going to resign and so will the other choir members,” the director said.
When the pastor suggested the man leave the choir, the fellow asked, „Why should I?”
„Well,” said the pastor, „four or five people have told me you can’t sing.”
„That’s nothing,” the man snorted. „Fifty people have told me you can’t preach!”
A fine funeral was ordered for a woman who had henpecked her husband, driven her kids half nuts, scrapped with the neighbors at the slightest opportunity, and even made neurotics of the cat and dog with her explosive temper.
As the casket was lowered into the grave, a violent thunderstorm broke, and the pastor’s benediction was drowned out by a blinding flash of lightning, followed by terrific thunder.
„Well,” commented one of the mourners, „sounds like she got where she was going.”
| My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, – That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease. |
Mi-i somn în simţuri… Inima mă doare Şi pare-se cucută doar şi opiu De-o clipă c-am băut cu însetare; M-afund în Lethe, de neant m-apropiu. Nu pizmuindu-ţi neamu-n aste ore, Ci-n fericirea ta prea fericită, Driada-n crâng, cu aripi jucăuşe, În melodii sonore, Prin fagii verzi, de umbre-nvăluită, Cânţi vara din cu drag umflată guşe. |
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