Doug's Sermon Jokes #6
February 28, 2025
As we transition into the Lenten season in which I will post some of my past Lenten sermons I thought it would be a good time to post another batch of jokes … a Mardi Gras of humor.
Before talking about this post let me explain the history and purpose of my substack for those of you who have signed up more recently. I started my substack in January two years ago. I had a friend who was encouraging me to publish my sermons in book form. I was not comfortable with that or confident that they would be publishable. Then I came across Substack. It seemed like this would be a good platform to share my sermons. My friend, and others, could now see my sermons and I could have some nostalgic moments as I worked through my old sermons and the memories they generated. In some ways this was an easy process. I have kept probably every sermon I have ever preached since the 1970’s. But there have been challenges. Until the late 1980’s I didn’t have a computer so the earlier sermons are handwritten and scanned in. (As you can imagine I have not yet published those early sermons). Also, while I had all these sermons saved on my computer I did not have them well organized so that has taken a lot of work. (The positive: now they are getting organized.)
Those of you who are new might wonder what posting these jokes is all about. (This is now my 6th posting of sermon jokes) Although I did not do this for every sermon I often began my sermons with a joke that segued into the sermon. (sometimes an easy segue, sometimes took some stretching, and sometimes had nothing to do with the sermon but it was just a good joke to tell). Over the years I was somewhat known for doing this. In fact, the jokes were probably remembered better than the content of the sermons. I have been gradually accumulating these jokes and once in awhile I have been posting them on my substack. If you want to look at past jokes you can scroll through the back posts or you can use the search button at the top of the app and look for “sermon jokes.”
Now to explain a particular joke in this particular post. In past posts I have alluded to the “worship wars” that took place in First United Methodist Church in Rapid City, the church I pastored from 2001 to 2013. These worship wars were at their height just before I arrived at First Church although some of it was still hanging on and needed to be laid to rest. The war was between traditional music and gospel music, which were represented in two different worship services, and contemporary Christian music that was needing to be incorporated in our worship lineup. [You can read more about the details of this worship war by again using the search button and entering “worship wars”] One of my initial challenges as a new pastor was to bring the church to some consensus on how all of these music styles could fit into our common life. I might be totally deceiving myself but I think one of the things that helped us own up to the foolishness of our “worship war” was the first joke I share in this post. I still remember how the folks in all the services laughed as I told the joke and the sense that some the tension was loosening. At least it made me feel better.
Enjoy the following humor and may we experience a renewal of our faith as we enter another Lenten Season.
An old farmer decided to get religion. He went to the city and attended a large church – the 9:30 service. He came home and his wife asked him how it was. "Well," said the farmer, "It was good. They did something different, however. They sang praise choruses."
"Praise choruses," said his wife, "What are those?"
"They're sort of like what we would call songs, only different. "It's like this: If I were to say to you, 'Martha, the cows are in the corn,' well, that would be a song. If, on the other hand, I were to say to you, 'Martha Martha, Martha, Oh, Martha - the cows, the big cows, the brown cows, the black cows, the white cows, the black and white cows, the COWS, COWS, COWS are in the corn, are in the corn, … the CORN, CORN,CORN' - Then, if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well that would be a praise chorus."
The next week the old farmer decided to attend the same church, only this time the 11:00 service. When he came home his wife again asked him how it was. "Well," said the farmer, "It was good. This service was different than last week. At this service they sang hymns instead of regular songs."
"Hymns," said his wife, "Well, what's different about them?"
The farmer continued, "Well like I said last week: If I were to say to you, 'Martha, the cows are in the corn,' that would be a regular song. If, on the other hand, I were to say to you,
'Oh Martha, dear Martha, hear thou my cry;
Inclinest thine ear to the words of my mouth.
Turn thou thy whole wondrous ear by and by
To the righteous, inimitable, glorious truth.
For the way of the animals who can explain?
There in their heads is no shadow of sense;
Hearkenest they in God's sun or his rain
Unless from the mild, tempting corn they are fenced.
Yea those cows in glad bovine, rebellious delight,
Have broke free their shackles, their warm pens eschewed.
Then goaded by minions of darkness and night
They all my mild Chilliwack sweet corn have chewed.
So look to that bright shining day by and by,
Where all foul corruptions of earth are reborn,
Where no vicious animal makes my soul cry,
And I no longer see those foul cows in the corn.'
Then, if I were to do only verses one, three and four and do a key change on the last verse, well, that would be a hymn."
A minister pulled into a service station on the start of the Fourth of July weekend and found it really crowded. The busy attendant finally got to the clergyman who had been waiting a long time. He apologized, saying, "seems like everybody waits until the last minute to get ready for a long trip."
The clergyman smiled and said, "I know what you mean. I have the same problem in my line of work."
A young boy had just gotten his driving permit. He asked his father, a preacher, if they could discuss his use of the family car. His father took him into his study, "I'll make you a deal. Bring your grades up, study the Bible harder, get your hair cut and then we'll talk about it.
After about a month, the boy came back and again asked his father if they could discuss the car. They again went into the father's study. The father said, "Son, I've been proud of you. You have brought up your grades, you've studied the scriptures diligently, but … you didn't get your hair cut."
The young man replied, "You know dad, I've been thinking about that. You know Samson had long hair, Moses had long hair, Noah had long hair, and even Jesus had long hair."
The preacher agreed, "I can see you have been reading the Bible more and you are exactly right. But you also need to remember that the four of them walked everywhere they went.”
Two small boys were a constant problem for the pastor, and the parents did nothing to correct them. So the pastor asked his assistant, if the boys were disruptive at the morning service, to take them to his office and have them wait for him. Sure enough the boys showed up with their usual vigor and in no time the assistant had to take the boys to the pastor’s office. When the pastor came after the service he took little Billy in the office with him and asked, "Billy, do you know where God is?" (Wanting him to realize he was in God's house). Billy didn't even look up and remained silent. "Billy, do you know where God is?" the pastor repeated. "Billy, I'm going to ask you one more time, do you know...” Billy jumped up, ran out the door, grabbed his buddy and yelled "Lets get out of here!" They ran all the way to Billy's house, into his bedroom. As Billy began to pack his clothes, his buddy asked him, "What did the preacher say?" Billy said, "God is missing and he thinks we know where he is!!”
One of the famous artists of all time was Pablo Picasso. After he became established as one of the world’s greatest artists, every work that Picasso created was worth a fortune.
One day, he walked into a carpenter’s shop to order a new wardrobe for his home. He explained to the carpenter that he wanted a mahogany wardrobe that would fit into the corner of his bedroom.
The carpenter listened carefully but appeared confused. Picasso again described precisely what he wanted and how he wanted the wardrobe to look, but again the carpenter looked confused and unsure. Picasso tried to describe it a third time, with the same results. The carpenter did not seem to understand.
Finally, Pablo Picasso grabbed a pencil and a piece of scratch paper and sketched out precisely what he wanted and how he wanted the wardrobe to look in his bedroom, “Oh yes, now I understand,” said the carpenter.
“Well, how much do I owe you?” Picasso asked.
“Nothing at all,” the carpenter said. “Just sign the sketch.”