A minister who was very fond of pure, hot horseradish always kept a bottle of it on his dining room table. He offered some to a guest, who took a big spoonful.
When the guest finally was able to speak, he gasped, “I’ve heard many ministers preach hellfire, but you are the first one I’ve met who passed out a sample of it.”
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.
Over at the Baptist Church, Dexter Rice, the Sunday School teacher, was telling his class the story of the Prodigal Son. Wishing to emphasize the resentful attitude of the elder brother, he laid stress on this part of the parable.
After describing the rejoicing of the household over the return of the wayward son, Dexter spoke of one who, in the midst of the festivities, failed to share in the jubilant spirit of the occasion. “Can anybody in the class,” he asked, “tell me who this was?”
Nine year old Olivia Crombie had been listening sympathetically to the story. She waved her hand in the air. “I know!” she said beamingly. “It was the fatted calf.”
A Sunday School helper was delivering a station wagon full of kids home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children began discussing the dog’s duties.
“They use him to keep crowds back,” said one youngster.
“No,” said another, “he’s just for good luck.”
A third child brought the argument to a close. “They use the dogs,” she said firmly, “to find the fire hydrant.”