Ol' Fred had been a faithful Christian and was in the hospital, near death. The family called their preacher to stand with them.
As the preacher stood next to the bed, Ol' Fred's condition appeared to deteriorate and he motioned frantically for something to write on.
The pastor lovingly handed him a pen and a piece of paper, and Ol' Fred used his last bit of energy to scribble a note, then suddenly died.
The preacher thought it best not to look at the note at that time, so he placed it in his jacket pocket.
At the funeral, as he was finishing the message, he realized that he was wearing the same jacket that he was wearing when Ol' Fred died.
He said, "You know, Ol' Fred handed me a note just before he died. I haven't looked at it, but knowing Fred, I'm sure there's a word of inspiration there for us all."
He opened the note, and read, "Please step to your left--you're standing on my oxygen tube!"
A man bought a donkey from a preacher. The preacher told the man that this donkey had been trained in a very unique way, (being the donkey of a preacher). The only way to make the donkey go, was to say, "Hallelujah!" The only way to make the donkey stop, was to say, "Amen!"
The man was pleased with his purchase and immediately got on the animal to try out the preacher's instructions. "Hallelujah!" shouted the man. The donkey began to trot. "Amen!" shouted the man. The donkey stopped immediately. "This is great!" said the man. With a "Hallelujah," he rode off very proud of his new purchase.
The man traveled for a long time through some mountains. Soon he was heading toward a cliff. He could not remember the word to make the donkey stop. "Stop," said the man. "Halt!" he cried. The donkey just kept going. "Oh, no... Bible!.... Church!... Please Stop!!" shouted the man. The donkey just more...
A minister would up the services one morning by saying, "Next Sunday I am going to preach on the subject of liars. And in this connection, as a preparation for my discourse, I would like you all to read the seventeenth chapter of Mark."
On the following Sunday, the preacher rose to begin, and said, "Now, then, all of you who have done as I requested and read the seventeenth chapter of Mark, please raise your hands."
Nearly every hand in the congregation went up.
Then said the preacher, "You are the people I want to talk to. There is no seventeenth chapter of Mark."
A preacher went to his church office on Monday morning and discovered a dead mule in the church yard. He called the police. Since there did not appear to be any foul play, the police referred the preacher to the health department. They said since there was no health threat that he should call the sanitation department. The sanitation manager said he could not pick up the mule without authorization from the mayor. Now the preacher knew the mayor and was not to eager to call him. The mayor had a bad temper and was generally hard to deal with, but the preacher called him anyway. The mayor did not disappoint. He immediately began to rant and rave at the pastor and finally said, "Why did you call me anyway? Isn't it your job to bury the dead?" The preacher paused for a brief prayer and asked the Lord to direct his response. He was led to say, "Yes, Mayor, it is my job to bury the dead, but I always like to notify the next of kin first.
A lady lost her cat, and took the cat in a little casket up to a big church and said, 'I want you to bury my cat.' And they run her off. She went to another church, and they run her off. She took the cat to a Baptist church on the edge of town, and told the preacher she couldn't find anybody to hold a service for her dead cat. And the man talked to her bad.
'How dare you think that we bury cats?'
She said, 'Well, I'm frustrated and I'm prepared to give two thousand dollars to whoever gives a service for my cat.' And the preacher said, 'Lady, why didn't you tell me your cat was a Baptist?'