A reverend woke up one Sunday morning and, after realising it was an exceptionally beautiful and sunny early spring day, decided he just had to play golf.
So he told the pastor that he was feeling sick and convinced him to say mass for him that day. As soon as the pastor left the room, the reverend headed out of town to a golf course about forty kilometres away. This way he knew he wouldn’t accidentally meet anyone he knew from his parish.
Setting up on the first tee, he was alone. After all, it was Sunday morning and everyone else was in church!
At about this time, Saint Peter leaned over to the Lord while looking down from the heavens and exclaimed: “You’re not going to let him get away with this, are you?”
The Lord sighed, and said: “No, I guess not.”
Just then the reverend hit the ball and it shot straight towards the hole, dropping just short of it, before rolling forwards and falling in. It was a 420 yard hole in one!
St. Peter was astonished. He looked at the Lord and asked: “Why did you let him do that?”
The Lord smiled and replied: “Who’s he going to tell?”
An elderly lady was well-known for her faith and for her boldness in talking about it. She would stand on her front porch and shout: “Praise the Lord!”
Next door to her lived an atheist who would get so angry at her proclamations he would shout: “There isn’t any Lord!”
Hard times set in on the elderly lady, and she prayed for God to send her some assistance. She stood on her porch and shouted: “Praise the Lord. God, I need food! I’m having a hard time and I need some groceries!”
The next morning the lady went out on her porch and noted a large bag of groceries and shouted: “Praise the Lord!”
The neighbour jumped from behind a bush and said: “Aha! I told you there was no Lord. I bought those groceries, God didn’t.”
The lady started jumping up and down and clapping her hands and said: “Praise the Lord. He not only sent me groceries, but He made the devil pay for them. Praise the Lord!”
A couples’ happy marriage was suffering because of old Aunt Emma who had moved in with them.
For seventeen long years she lived with them, always crotchety, always demanding. Until, finally, the old girl passed away.
On the way back from the cemetery, the husband confessed to his wife: “Darling, if I didn’t love you so much, I don’t think I would have put up with having your Aunt Emma in the house all those years.”
His wife looked at him aghast. “My Aunt Emma?” she cried, “I thought she was your Aunt Emma!”