Tag Archives: vicar

Songs of Praise

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March 12, 2016 · 11:36

Revving up

A speeding vicar escaped a driving ban after being caught for the fourth time in four years – because it would stop him preaching to his rural parish.

Rev Tudor Rowlands, 74, was caught by police zooming along country roads doing 40mph in a 30mph area.

He already had nine points on his licence from three previous speeding offences – but escaped a driving ban thanks to his holy job.

A court was told Rev Rowlands, who has been a minister for 46 years, was still in charge of 10 chapels across a very large rural parish around Welshpool, Powys, North Wales.

He admitted speeding at Welshpool magistrates’ court but pleaded “exceptional hardship” and said a driving ban would affect the “spiritual health of communities” if he couldn’t reach lonely and elderly people who could not get the church.

Rev Rowland apologised for his speeding and said he believed he had learned his lesson after being caught for a fourth time in just four years.

Magistrates accepted his argument of exceptional hardship and fined him £70, ordered him to pay costs of £85 and a victim surcharge of £20.

postnews@swwmedia.co.uk / @SWEveningPost

Powys

http://www.southwales-eveningpost.co.uk

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Cockney Sermon

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January 1, 2014 · 11:05

Cana and Conjuring

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November 18, 2013 · 08:40

Bad language at the Vicarage

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July 26, 2013 · 11:35

Fitba’ again

Fitba' again

this will be my prayer next May (2014)

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July 1, 2013 · 22:23

Flash Mob Wedding

so tacky

 

A vicar in Nottinghamshire has led a disco dance routine at the end of a couple’s wedding ceremony.

Gary and Tracy Richardson, of Rotherham, South Yorkshire, joined Church of England vicar Kate Bottley in the pre-arranged flash-mob inspired dance at St Mary’s and St Martin’s Church in Blyth.

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June 24, 2013 · 15:20

Wonderful – Marvellous

A rich man went to his vicar and said, “I want you and your wife to take a three-month trip to the Holy Land at my expense.  When you come back, I’ll have a surprise for you”.  The vicar accepted the offer, and he and his wife went off to the Middle East.

Three months later they returned home and were met by the wealthy parishioner, who told them that while they were gone, he had had a new church built.  “It’s the finest building money can buy, vicar,” said the man.  “No expense was spared.” And he was right.  It was a magnificent edifice both outside and in.

But there was one striking difference.  There was only one pew, and it was at the very back.  “A church with only one pew?” asked the vicar.

“You just wait until Sunday,” the rich man said.

When the time came for the Sunday service, the early arrivals entered the church, filed onto the one pew and sat down.  When the pew was full, a switch clicked silently, a circuit closed, the gears meshed, a belt moved and, automatically, the rear pew began to move forward.  When it reached the front of the church, it came to a stop.  At the same time, another empty pew came up from below at the back and more people sat down.  And so it continued, pews filling and moving forwards until finally the church was full, from front to back.

“Wonderful!” said the vicar, “Marvelous!”

The service began, and the vicar started to preach his sermon.  He launched into his text and, when 12 o’clock came, he was still going strong, with no end in sight.  Suddenly a bell rang, and a trap door in the floor behind the pulpit dropped open.

“Wonderful!” said the congregation, “Marvelous!”

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Acid Drops

A vicar on his way to Bournemouth for a few days holiday finds himself in a train compartment with some young ladies under the beady-eye of their manageress: it turns out they are to play in an all-female version of the pantomime “Dick Whittington”.

Some time into the trip the ladies are discussing their favourite panto rôles. “I usually take Cinderella” says one. “And I take Buttons” says another.

The vicar pulls out a bag of acid-drops (this was in the days when such things were sweets, not drugs) and offers them around, saying “and which one of you takes Dick ?”

“We all do, dear” says the manageress, “but not for acid drops !”

{variant on this in Kenneth Williams’ book “Acid Drops”}

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Vicar Atkinson

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