10. Your church started a new stewardship drive — every time you give, your chances of winning increase!

9. The choir has started wearing their bathrobes during the service.

8. The last few Sundays the Treasurer has gotten up half way through the service and turned the heat off.

7. The Preacher has worn the same suit every Sunday for the past three years.

6. The Deacons are starting to drool and growl as they collect the offering!

5. The offering plates have been sold and replaced with ice cream buckets.

4. The Treasurer has started wearing sackcloth and ashes!

3. You tried to call the Church Office last week but found that the phone’s been disconnected!

2. Parking meters had to be installed in the church parking lot.

1. As a Christian you understand the privilege it is to have a partnership in the Gospel!

I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every envelope that needs sealing.

Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.

I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day

Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

I no longer can buy gasoline without taking a man along to watch the car so a serial killer won’t crawl in my back seat when I’m pumping gas.

I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put “Under God” on their cans.

I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

And thanks for letting me know I can’t boil a cup water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face … disfiguring me for life.

I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.

I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.

I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don’t support our American troops or the Salvation Army.

I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan.

I no longer have any sneakers — but that will change once I receive my free replacement pair from Nike.

I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.

Thanks to you, I can’t use anyone’s toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites me on the behind.

Thank you too for all the endless advice Andy Rooney has given us.  I can live a better life now because he’s told us how to fix everything.

And thanks to your great advice, I can’t ever pick up $5.00 I dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

Oh, and don’t forget this one either! I can no longer drive my car because I can’t buy gas from certain gas companies!

If you don’t send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. Lice from 50 monkeys will infest your armpits and other private areas, causing such itching you will not be allowed to be in mixed company, because of your rude scratching patterns, I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor’s ex-mother-in-law’s second husband’s cousin’s beautician.

Have a wonderful day.

10. There’s a case of bottled water beside the pulpit in a cooler.

9. The pews have camper hookups.

8. You overhear the pastor telling the sound man to have a few (dozen) extra tapes on hand to record today’s sermon.

7. The preacher has brought a snack to the pulpit.

6. The preacher breaks for an intermission.

5. The bulletins have pizza delivery menus.

4. When the preacher asks the deacon to bring in his notes, he rolls in a filing cabinet.

3. The choir loft is furnished with La-Z-Boys.

2. Instead of taking off his watch and laying it on the pulpit, the preacher turns up a four-foot hour-glass.

1. The minister says, “You’ll be out in time to watch the Super Bowl!” and it’s only November!

‘Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest,
And all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;
Our punch bowl held prune juice plus three drops of cherry.

A bed sock was taped to each walker, in hope
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.

Our grandkids had sent us some Christmassy crafts,
Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she’d crafted a holiday wreath.

The bedpans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candle’s magnificent glow.
Our supper so festive — the joy wouldn’t stop —
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.

Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great,
Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then had us play games,
Like “Where Are You Living?”  And “What Are Your Names?”

Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wanderer was close to her chair,
We hoped that at bedtime she still would be there.

Security lights on the new fallen snow
Made outdoors seem noontime to the old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
But we were so deaf that it just didn’t matter.

A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the  floor.
‘Twas just our director, all togged out in red.
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.

We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
Our social security checks had arrived.
We sang — how we sang — in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. stroke.

And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds.
While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.
‘fore long you’ll be with us, and we wish you the best.

A couple was celebrating their golden wedding anniversary. Their domestic tranquility had long been the talk of the town. A local newspaper reporter was inquiring as to the secret of their long and happy marriage.

Well, it dates back to our honeymoon,” explained the man. “We visited The Grand Canyon and took a trip down to the bottom on the canyon by pack mule.

We hadn’t gone too far when my wife’s mule stumbled. My wife quietly said, ‘That’s once.’

We proceeded a little further and the mule stumbled again. Once more my wife quietly said, ‘That’s twice.’

We hadn’t gone a half-mile when the mule stumbled the third time. My wife quietly removed a revolver from her pocket and shot the mule dead.

I started to protest over her treatment of the mule when she looked at me and quietly said … “That’s once.”

The tribal wisdom of the Dakota Indians, passed on from generation to generation, says that, “When you discover that you are riding a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount and get a different horse.” However, in government, education, corporate America, and churches, more advanced strategies are often employed, such as:

1. Buying a stronger whip.

2. Changing riders.

3. Appointing a committee to study the horse.

4. Arranging to visit other countries to see how other cultures ride dead horses.

5. Lowering the standards so that dead horses can be included.

6. Reclassifying the dead horse as living impaired.

7. Hiring outside contractors to ride the dead horse.

8. Harnessing several dead horses together to increase speed.

9. Providing additional funding and/or training to increase the dead horse’s performance.

10. Doing a productivity study to see if lighter riders would improve the dead horse’s performance.

11. Declaring that as the dead horse does not have to be fed, it is less costly, carries lower overhead and therefore contributes substantially more to the bottom line of the economy than do some other horses.

12. Rewriting the expected performance requirements for all horses.

And, of course….

13. Promoting the dead horse to a supervisory position.

The Picnic
A Jewish Rabbi and a Catholic Priest met at the town’s annual 4th of July picnic. Old friends, they began their usual banter. “This baked ham is really delicious,” the priest teased the rabbi. “You really ought try it. I know it’s against your religion, but I can’t understand why such a wonderful food should be forbidden! You don’t know what you’re missing. You just haven’t lived until you’ve tried Mrs. Hall’s prized Virginia Baked Ham. Tell me, Rabbi, when are you going to break down and try it?” The rabbi looked at the priest with a big grin, and said, “At your wedding.”

The Usher
An elderly woman walked into the local country church. The friendly usher greeted her at the door and helped her up the flight of steps.
“Where would you like to sit?” he asked politely.
“The front row please,” she answered.
“You really don’t want to do that,” the usher said. “The pastor is really boring.”
“Do you happen to know who I am?” the woman inquired.
“No.” he said.
“I’m the pastor’s mother,” she replied indignantly.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
“No.” she said.
“Good,” he answered.

Show and Tell
A kindergarten teacher gave her class a “show and tell” assignment.
Each student was instructed to bring in an object to share with the class that represented their religion. The first student got up in front of the class and said, “My name is Benjamin and I am Jewish and this is a Star of David.” The second student got up in front of the class and said, “My name is Mary. I’m a Catholic and this is a Rosary.” The third student got in up front of the class and said, “My name is Tommy. I am Baptist, and this is a casserole.”

The Best Way To Pray
A priest, a minister and a guru sat discussing the best positions for prayer, while a telephone repairman worked nearby. “Kneeling is definitely the best way to pray,” the priest said. “No,” said the minister. “I get the best results standing with my hands outstretched to Heaven.” “You’re both wrong,” the guru said. “The most effective prayer position is lying down on the floor.” The repairman could contain himself no longer. “Hey, fellas,” he interrupted. “The best prayin’ I ever did was when I was hangin’ upside down from a telephone pole.”

The Twenty and the One
A well-worn one dollar bill and a similarly distressed twenty dollar bill arrived at a Federal Reserve Bank to be retired. As they moved along the conveyor belt to be burned, they struck up a conversation.
The twenty dollar bill reminisced about its travels all over the country. “I’ve had a pretty good life,” the twenty proclaimed. “Why I’ve been to Las Vegas and Atlantic City, the finest restaurants in New York, performances on Broadway, and even a cruise to the Caribbean.”
“Wow!” said the one dollar bill. “You’ve really had an exciting life!”
“So tell me,” says the twenty, “where have you been throughout your lifetime?” The one dollar bill replies, “Oh, I’ve been to the Methodist Church, the Baptist Church, the Lutheran Church…” The twenty dollar bill interrupts, “What’s a church?”

Goat for Dinner
The young couple invited their elderly pastor for Sunday dinner. While they were in the kitchen preparing the meal, the minister asked their son what they were having. “Goat,” the little boy replied. “Goat?” replied the startled man of the cloth, “Are you sure about that?”
“Yep,” said the youngster. “I heard Dad say to Mom, ‘Today is just as good as any to have the old goat for dinner.'”

 

You might be in a Redneck Church if…

• The finance committee refuses to provide funds for the purchase of a chandelier because none of the members knows how to play one.

• People ask, when they learn that Jesus fed the 5000, whether the two fish were bass or catfish, and what bait was used to catch ’em.

• When the pastor says, “I’d like to ask Bubba to help take up the offering,” five guys and two women stand up.

• A member of the church requests to be buried in his 4-wheel-drive truck because “It ain’t never been in a hole it couldn’t get out of.”

• The choir is known as the “OK Chorale.”

• In a congregation of 500 members, there are only seven different last names in the church directory.

• People think “rapture” is what you get when you lift something too heavy.

• Instead of a bell; you are called to service by a duck call.

• The communion wine is Boone’s Farm “Tickled Pink.”

• “Thou shall not covet” applies to huntin’ dogs, too.

• The final words of the benediction are, “Y’all come back now, ya heah.”

• God bless and don’t y’all fergit ta say yer prayers!

An old farmer went to the city one weekend and attended the big city church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

“Well,” said the farmer. “It was good. They did something different, however. They sang praise choruses instead of hymns.”

“Praise choruses?” asked the wife. “What are those?”

“Oh, they’re okay. They’re sort of like hymns, only different,” said the farmer.

“Well, what’s the difference?” asked the wife.

The farmer said, “Well it’s like this … If I were to say to you, ‘Martha, the cows are in the corn,’ well that would be a hymn. If, on the other hand, I were to say to you, ‘Martha, Martha, Martha, Oh, Martha, MARTHA, MARTHA, the cows, the big cows, the brown cows, the black cows, the white cows, the black and white cows, the COWS, COWS, COWS are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn, in the CORN, CORN, CORN, COOOOORRRRRNNNNN,’ then, if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well that would be a praise chorus.”

As luck would have it, the exact same Sunday a young, new Christian from the city church attended the small town church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

“Well,” said the young man, “It was good. They did something different, however. They sang hymns instead of regular songs.”

“Hymns?” asked the wife. “What are those?”

“They’re okay. They’re sort of like regular songs, only different,” said the young man.

“Well, what’s the difference?” asked the wife.

The young man said, “Well it’s like this … If I were to say to you, ‘Martha, the cows are in the corn,’ well that would be a regular song. If on the other hand, I were to say to you…

Oh Martha, dear Martha, hear thou my cry
Inclinest thine ear to the words of my mouth.
Turn thou thy whole wondrous ear by and by
To the righteous, glorious truth.

For the way of the animals who can explain
There in their heads is no shadow of sense,
Hearkenest they in God’s sun or his rain
Unless from the mild, tempting corn they are fenced.

Yea those cows in glad bovine,
rebellious delight,
Have broke free their shackles, their warm pens eschewed.
Then goaded by minions of darkness and night
They all my mild Chilliwack sweet corn chewed.

So look to that bright shining day by and by,
Where all foul corruptions of earth are reborn
Where no vicious animal makes my soul cry
And I no longer see those foul cows in the corn,

… then, if I were to do only verses one, three and four, and change keys on the last verse, well that would be a hymn.”

On the outskirts of a small Georgia town, there was a big, old pecan tree just inside the cemetery fence. One day, two boys filled up a bucketful of nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts.

“One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me,” said one boy.

Meanwhile, several dropped and rolled down toward the fence. Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, “One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.”

He just knew what it was. He jumped back on his bike and rode off. Just around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.

“Come here quick,” said the boy, “you won’t believe what I heard! Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls.”

The man said, “Beat it kid, can’t you see it’s hard for me to walk.”

When the boy insisted though, the man hobbled to the cemetery. Standing by the fence they heard, “One for you, one for me One for you, One for me…”

The old man whispered, “Boy, you’ve been tellin’ the truth. Let’s see if we can see the Lord.” Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable to see anything. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of the Lord.

At last they heard, “One for you, one for me. That’s all. Now let’s go get those nuts by the fence and we’ll be done.”

They say the old man made it back to town a full 5 minutes ahead of the boy on the bike.