“Forgive me Father for I have sinned,” said the man in the confessional.
“What is it, my son?” came the reply.
“Well, last week I went round to my girlfriend’s flat but she wasn’t in. The only person there was her flat mate and we ended up having sex.”
“Oh dear,” replied the priest.
“And then a couple of days later, I popped round to my mate’s house but he’d gone down the pub. The only person there was his wife and we ended up having sex.”
“Oh dear,” remarked the priest again.
The man continued “So then last night, I went into the local pub and it was empty. Everyone had gone to watch the darts team playing away. There was only Mandy serving behind the bar so we ended up having sex. What shall I do?”
But there was no answer from the other side of the screen.
“Father, are you there?” demanded the man. No answer came, so he began looking for the priest and eventually found him hiding in the pews.
“What are you doing there?” he exclaimed.
“Well, I suddenly realised that you and I were alone together,” replied the priest.
Showing posts with label Confession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Confession. Show all posts
Confession
The priest had been in his new parish for 18 months and already he was fed up with the number of people coming to him in confession and talking about their affairs. Eventually he told his congregation to use another word. “From now on, I would like you to say you have fallen, instead of telling me you’re having an affair,” he said.
The new word worked well. Then it came to the priest’s summer holiday and another priest came to stand in for a month but was not made aware of the new arrangement. After 2 weeks of listening to the daily Confessions, he was astonished at what he was being told so he went to see the Lord Mayor.
“I’m very pleased with the local people’s morals,” he said. “They have very little to confess to me. I think something should be done about the state of the pavements, though, because people seem to be falling down all the time.”
The Lord Mayor smiled, knowingly. “Oh, there’s nothing to worry about there, Father,” he replied.
“Well I think there is,” persisted the priest. “Your wife has fallen 3 times this week.”
The new word worked well. Then it came to the priest’s summer holiday and another priest came to stand in for a month but was not made aware of the new arrangement. After 2 weeks of listening to the daily Confessions, he was astonished at what he was being told so he went to see the Lord Mayor.
“I’m very pleased with the local people’s morals,” he said. “They have very little to confess to me. I think something should be done about the state of the pavements, though, because people seem to be falling down all the time.”
The Lord Mayor smiled, knowingly. “Oh, there’s nothing to worry about there, Father,” he replied.
“Well I think there is,” persisted the priest. “Your wife has fallen 3 times this week.”
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