Monthly Archives: May 2012

This one is so old – I should be paying death duties on it!

The Meenister’s Log

Sister Mary Katherine entered the Convent of Silence.

The Priest said, ‘Sister, this is a silent monastery. You are welcome here as long as you like, but you may not speak until directed to do so. ‘

Sister Mary Katherine lived in the monastery for 5 years before the Priest said to her, ‘Sister Mary Katherine, you have been here for 5 years. You may speak two words.’
Sister Mary Katherine said, ‘Hard bed.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ the Priest said, ‘We will get you a better bed.’

After another 5 years, Sister Mary Katherine was summoned by the Priest.

‘You may say another two words, Sister Mary Katherine.’
‘Cold food,’ said Sister Mary Katherine, and the Priest assured her that the food would be better in the future.


On her 15th anniversary at the monastery, the Priest again called Sister Mary Katherine into his office. ‘You may say two words today.’
‘I quit,’ said Sister Mary Katherine.

‘It’s probably best,’ said the Priest, ‘You’ve done nothing but bitch since you got here.’

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The Meenister’s Log

I was told this many years ago by a dentist friend who was a member of my congregation.

He had just fitted new dentures for a minister patient and invited him to “Try them out”

The minister looked into the small mirror placed in front of him, and carefully enunciated the words “Jesus Christ”

My dentist friend replied, “Surely, they’re not that bad!”

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Not What We Wanted

The Meenister’s Log

Being conscious of how you want people to see and remember you helps you make better choices. We should strive to have as many years as we can to solidify the image people have of us in a good way.

A Parishioner (not a Church member) whom I knew phoned me to say that her mother had died and asked if I would conduct the funeral service at the crematorium – to which I agreed.

Instead of meeting with the family  beforehand in this daughter’s house, it was decided that we should get together at her sister’s home which was a few miles away.

I duly arrived at this large, imposing home and was ushered upstairs to the Drawing Room.

After offering the appropriate condolences, we started to discuss the details of the service.

“Do you have any hymns in mind?”


“What about the 23rd Psalm?”

“I don’t think so” said a son-in-law of the old lady “Is there really any need for music?”

“No,not at all – the organist will play something appropriate before and after the Service”

Then I said, “I didn’t  know Mrs Smith – I wonder if you could tell me a little bit about her so that I can say a few words by way of tribute”


“Well, was she a quiet person, or an outgoing sort of lady.. did she have any hobbies or interests… and so on..?”

Silence – then, from the same son-in-law, “She was a dreadful, unpleasant old woman – we’d prefer if you said nothing about her”

The day of the funeral.  I couldn’t say nothing, so simply described her as a “wife, mother and grandmother to the family”

A few days later, I received a letter from the other daughter (not the one I knew):  “Thank you for performing the funeral service of the late Mrs Smith (note, not “my mother” but “the late Mrs Smith”) even although it was not what we had wanted”

So sad

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Monastery Life

The Meenister’s Log

A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons and laws of the church by hand.

He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original  manuscript.  So, the new monk goes to the Abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small error in the first copy, it would never be picked up!

In fact, that error would be continued in all of the subsequent copies.

The Abbot, says, “We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son.”

He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as archives in a locked vault that hasn’t been opened for hundreds of years.

Hours go  by and nobody sees the old Abbot.

So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing. 

“We missed the R!  We missed the R!  We missed the R!”
His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably.

The young monk asks the old abbot, “What’s wrong, father?”

With A choking voice, the old abbot replies,

“The word was…….


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Rev I M Jolly


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May 30, 2012 · 20:38


Dave Allen in his own inimitable style

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May 30, 2012 · 20:35

The Army Chaplain

The Meenister’s Log

A newly appointed Army Chaplain was being shown round the barracks by the Commanding Officer.

They came to an old dilapidated hut.  “I’m sorry, Padre, but this is all we have for your worship services, but some of the squaddies were painters and decorators in civvy life – they might be able to spruce things up a bit for you”

And that was true.  The Chaplain sought out two or three of them and they gave the place a lick of paint.

After this was done, one of them (who had been a sign writer in his previous incarnation), was approached by the Padre.

” You know”, said the Chaplain, “We could do with something eye-catching on the chancel wall – some symbol or design or something”.

“Leave it with me” said the squaddie, “Give me a few hours and I’ll see you right, Sir”

So, a while later, the Chaplain came back and this is what he saw:


Now, not wanting to upset the Private, who, after all, had done a magnificent job, the Chaplain congratulated him – and then added, “That’s excellent – but I was thinking of something perhaps a bit more religious”

“Leave it with me, Sir; come back in an hour and you’ll love what I’ve got in mind.

So that’s what happened…..

…. and the sign now read “Scotland forever and ever  AMEN”

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Reward or Punishment?

The Meenister’s Log

A saintly old pillar of the Kirk  died

During his many years in the Pulpit, he had fulminated against the permissive society, pornography and sex in all its shapes and forms

He had led a moral and blameless life, and on his deathbed, one of his Elders said that, given the morally strong and courageous man he was,  he would surely get his reward in heaven.

Soon after this saint of the Kirk died, one of his flock passed away and he too reached heaven.

He said to St.Peter – “where is our beloved auld meenster?  He must be somewhere enjoying the delights of this Paradise– he must have been given all the joys that only heaven can provide.”

And then suddenly he saw the old Reverend underneath a beautiful tree…  — with the most beautiful, nubile, gorgeous young woman sitting in his lap, both naked, hugging each other!

The Kirk member fell at the feet of the old minister & said , “Reverend Sir,  God is so pleased with you, he has given you this lovely young woman as a reward!” 

The auld Meenister looked  at him and said, ” She is not my reward, I am her punishment!

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Another Nativity Play story

The Meenister’s Log

One of the delights of Parish Ministry was attending the Nativity Play performed by the Sunday School children

Many a time, there would be missed cues, garbled speeches, and always some tot waving to her Mum and Dad in the audience.

I’ve lost count of the number of times that I’ve heard of the Magi bringing, as one of their gifts – Frankenstein.

And the shepherd, with toy lamb welded to his shoulder, staring heavenward, his eyes shielded by his hand, throughout the entire performance.

But, oh the joy.  One elderly parishioner had tears of joy running down her cheeks as she watched her grandchildren participate in one particular play – she had terminal cancer, but she wasn’t crying because this would be the last time that she would see them perform – these were tears of joy, as she drank in the whole innocence of the children and the happiness that created a lovely diversion from the pain and discomfort she was feeling.


The youth group at a certain church was performing a nativity play. 

Joseph and Mary and all the other characters were in place and ready. 

They did their parts with seriousness and commitment, looking as pious as they possibly could

And then it came time for the shepherds to enter.   Dressed in flannel dressing-gowns and toweled head gear, the shepherds proceeded to the altar steps where Mary and Joseph  looked earnestly at the straw which contained a single naked light bulb that was playing the part of the glowing newborn Jesus.

With his back to the congregation, one of the shepherds, pulling out a hip-flask, said to the person playing Joseph, in a very loud whisper for all the cast to hear, “Well, Joe, shall we wet the baby’s head?!

The solemn spell of that occasion was not simply broken by his remark, it was exploded. Mary and Joseph’s cover was completely destroyed as it became impossible to hold back the bursts of laughter.

The chief angel, standing on a chair behind them was the worst of all.   She shook so hard in laughter that she fell off her chair and took the curtained back drop and all the rest of the props down with her.  She just kept rolling around on the floor holding her stomach because she was laughing so hard.  The whole set was in shambles.

But do you know what?  The only thing that didn’t go to pieces was that light bulb in the manger. … it never stopped shining.

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Werther’s Original

A vicar gets on a train. In his carriage are a group of five fine looking young ladies.

To break the ice, he offers round his bag of Werther’s Original and then asks, “So, what do you young ladies do?”

“We do panto. We are currently starring in Dick Whittington!” reply the girls.

“That’s fabulous. Which parts do you take?”

The first lady says, “I take the part of the cat.”

The second lady continues, “I take the part of Buttons.”

“Really?” asks the vicar. “Who takes Dick?”

“We all do!” says the third girl, “but it’ll cost you a lot more than a Werther’s Original!”

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