Love One Another

Every so often a good song comes and goes. 

Yet the lyrics are such that everyone should read and remember them.

LISTEN TO THE LYRICS

Rattus Goawayus

It was a wonderful early Spring afternoon. We went driving to the countryside. It was warm and semi-sunny and the family decided to go out for a walk. We parked the car and I must admit it was a beautiful afternoon to go for a walk in the countryside, all the way up the narrow lane, leading to the village about half a mile away renowned for its beautiful thatched cottages and small shops. It was like visiting back in time before modern society and materialism took over.

It was either that, or staying in the car and listening to a football game on the radio.

I did what any sane person would do. I stayed in the car and let the family go on their walk if they wanted to.

As I sat there in the driving seat listening to the radio, I noticed ahead of me, some two yards away, something moving amongst the bushes. I switched off the radio and concentrated. It happened again. It moved a few inches to the left, then ran into the bushes again. It was a rat. At first I thought it was some other country creature. A squirrel maybe. Or perhaps a mole or anything else that inhabits the countryside and is small and brownish. But it was a rat all right. It came our again. Ran left and right. But stood still for long enough for me to identify him as a rat. Perhaps it was foraging for food.

I panicked. I quickly shut all the car windows and made sure all the doors were locked.

I lowered myself down in the seat so he would not see me.

I read somewhere that rats can be dangerous if they attack you. I could not drive away of course because I was waiting for my family to return from their stupid country walk. They'd been gone for at least ten minutes; when will they return? Isn't ten minutes enough for stupid country walks?

I had to either frighten the rat away or attack him. I searched the car for something I could use as a weapon.

I found a bra.

Let us not debate what a bra was doing in the car. I could use it as a sling shot or catapult. If David had this bra in the Bible he could have killed two Goliaths simultaneously.

Problem is, I did not have any pebbles or stones in the car. I could use the bra to hit the rat with if he attacked I suppose. I kept it close to hand.

I had read somewhere that rats can travel hundreds of miles. Apparently they hang on the underside of cars and as you drive away you inadvertently take them to your home.

I raised myself a little in my seat to keep an eye on the ninja rodent in case he jumped and hid under our car.

Eventually the family returned from their stupid walk.

I hid the bra in the glove compartment and asked them to stamp their feet loudly before they entered the car quickly. I thought the noise would frighten the rat away.

They asked me why I asked them to stamp their feet. I told them it was a new game I'd invented. They thought it was stupid.

I drove away fast and every so often, when it was safe, I hit the brakes suddenly to dislodge any rats hanging on the underside of the vehicle. I looked in the rear view mirror to see if any rats fell off but there was nothing.

The family was not amused by my driving and thought I was a jerk. Little did they know I was saving them from a rat infestation.

We got home safely. When they were in the house, I bent right down on the ground searching for any rats hanging on to the underside of the car. There were none.

Maybe none managed to jump onto the car, or perhaps they fell when I hit the brakes.

What do you think?

Rich Man - Poor Man - And you

“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.

“The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’

“But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’ Luke 16:19-31.

I am sure you all know this parable by Jesus. The story continues that the rich man asks Abraham to send Lazarus to go and warn the rich man's family to mend their ways. And this request too is denied.

So ... what have we to learn from this parable in today's modern times?

These days we have people so rich that they treat their pets better than many poor people are treated. Years ago I knew a couple who had a little dog. You know the kind ... a little bijou type dog like a small poodle or such like. They liked that dog very much. So much so that they put a plate full of best cuts of ham, or other meats, on the table and then they would lift the dog on a high chair and he would eat at table with them.

The first time this happened I was astounded. I said nothing of course; but somehow I felt bad that the dog was fed the best meat one could buy when there are so many folks going hungry.

For all I know, maybe this couple were very generous in life. Maybe they gave a lot of money to charity, or looked after the down-and-outs in the local homeless shelter. But somehow, seeing that dog eating expensive meats that I could not afford made me feel bad.

What do we learn from the Lazarus story?

How much should we give to charity? What is enough? Or not enough?

In another parable Jesus tells us of the poor widow who gave her last pennies in the collection plate. He says that her gift was worth more than that of rich people, because she gave until it hurt.

What does give until it hurts mean for us these days? Is it OK to give to charities so much that it begins to affect our family and our loved ones? Is it acceptable that our children should go without something because we have been generous towards the poor? Where do you draw the line between your family not having something at the expense of a poor man having a good meal for the first time in ages.

I once was having a meal with a priest. There were many of us round the table. I was young and perhaps foolish in what I thought or said. I asked him, "Father, is it OK for us to be having such a feast here; when there are so many people starving in the world?"

He was a wise man. He smiled and said, "There will always be starving people in the world. I know the temptation is to give all you have to the poor to the point of you going without. But if you did that, then you too will be poor and relying on others for charity. What you should do is give to the poor as much as you can afford, and thank God that you have plenty for yourself, and trust Him that He will look after the poor. You are God's instrument in life to give to those less well off than yourself."

I suppose the lesson to be learnt here is that we should not deny things for ourselves and our families. There's nothing wrong in working hard and being well-off. Indeed, Christ encourages people to work hard in the parable of the servants given talents which they increase in time.

But in our riches, we need to remember those less well-off than us; and to give them "enough" as much as we can.

What is enough? Or not enough?

This is something you will have to discuss with God when you get to meet Him.

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

It's been a while since I wrote here and shared my deepest feelings and inner thoughts. In all truth, a lot has been happening lately and I feel rather melancholy. I have this heavy weight on my heart which makes me rather sad.

Perhaps I should not have had so much ravioli. I pride myself in always having a well-balanced meal. Ravioli for starters. Ravioli for the main meal. And ravioli for dessert. Perhaps it was the honey on that last plate of ravioli which did it for me!

Anyway, on Monday I did some gardening. Whilst pruning the branches off a tree I fell off the ladder and hurt my foot. I didn't cry so much since that day when I lost 20 pence!

But sad and painful as that day was, I mean Monday, as well as that day years ago when I lost 20 pence, Tuesday was much much worse.

On Tuesday morning I went to the doctor about my hurt foot. The receptionist would not let me in because I did not have an appointment. She said I should have phoned for an appointment first before turning up un-announced. I told her I did not know I was going to fall off the ladder; but she still would not let me in to see the doctor.

I took out my cell-phone, and there and then, in front of her, I phoned for an appointment. She answered the phone and said that the doctor would see me in ten days' time. 

Apparently, like many people, he is avoiding me. I don't know why.

She explained, (I knew she was lying by the tone of her face), that the earliest appointment for all patients, not just me, is in ten days' time.

I told her that in ten days' time some patients may well be dead. She replied that in that case they should ring her again and cancel the appointment.

Eventually, she let me see the doctor. 

As I got into his insulting room a nun came out crying her heart out.

I asked him what was wrong with her. He broke the doctor patient confidentiality code, (ha ... ha ... as if there is such a thing when his nurses and receptionists can all read your intimate details on the computer); anyway ... he broke confidentiality and said, "I told that nun that she is pregnant!"

"Is she pregnant?" I asked.

"No ..." he smiled, "but I sure cured her hiccups!"

Whilst he was examining my hurt foot I told him that I believe I have fluid on the knee. He said, "You're not aiming straight!"

On my way back from the doctor I called on the baker's and asked him for a wasp. "We don't sell wasps!" he said. "You've got one in the shop window!" I replied.

As I made my way home I got mugged. A young man pointed a plastic knife at me and said, "Your money or your life!" It took me a couple of minutes or so to decide my options. I thought he said, 
"your money or your wife". As she was not with me at the time, I did not know how I could agree to his demands. The knife blade was at least two inches long so, eventually, I decided to give him my money. I gave him all I had on me - 60 pence.

When the man ran away I went to the police station and reported the mugging. They asked me for a description and I said the 50 pence coin was dated 2006 and the 10 pence coin was 2008.They still haven't found the money to return to me.

They said they wanted a description of the mugger. I told them that I wanted my money back not the mugger.

On Wednesday evening there were a lot of birds chirping and settling for the night in the trees in our back garden. It was wonderful to hear them and see it all. I called the family to come and see the birds. My mother-in-law, who sadly was staying with us that evening, came out in the garden with her hair in curlers and her face all creamed up. It was a white cream to make her skin soft and less crinkly. She looks as if she needs ironing or something. She was quite a sight. The cat got frightened and rushed up the tree. The dog, for some reason, barked and then bit my leg.

The sight of my mother-in-law with all that cream on her face had quite an effect on the birds. The next day they returned all the seeds they had taken from our garden the previous years!

I'm glad Dear Diary that no one reads you except me. The things I write here ...

Actually, I’ll tell you a secret. I keep two diaries. You and a decoy one I leave lying around in case it is read. In it I say kind things like how nice the green dress my wife bought looks; even though it is hideous and makes her look like a stick of broccoli.

At lunchtime on Thursday I went to a Department Store with Helen, my secretary. She picked up a pink see-through negligent from the display unit, put it across her and with a smile she said expectantly, "Do you like this?" 

I gulped and replied, "I don't look good in a negligent!" She frowned and said nothing. Pink isn't even my favourite colour!

On Thursday evening our goldfish in the tank in the living room died. I grilled him and had him on toast with tomato ketchup. Afterwards the family said they wanted to bury him in the garden. I quickly produced a small box filled with sand which we ceremoniously buried. I said the farewell prayers, "Wherever you are Toby. May you digest in peace." I was asked what digest means. I said it was like saying "Earth to earth and dust to dust".

By the way, I had stomach ache that evening.

On Thursday night Friday morning my neighbour knocked on my door at 2:30 in the morning. Can you believe that, 2:30am?! Luckily for him I was still up playing my bagpipes.

On Friday at work we had a new receptionist join us at work. Her name is Matilda. I welcomed her and congratulated her on her pregnancy. A few minutes later I saw her cry and some women were with her consoling her.

My manager told me that she is rotund by nature, and not pregnant at all. I asked: "Are you sure?"

After my Friday's faux-pas, I decided to go to Confession on Saturday. I arrived a little late and noticed the priest get out of the confessional quickly and hurry into the Sacristy. I'm sure he'd seen me, but he pretended not to.

I followed him into the Sacristy and asked to go to Confession. He said if it is the same sins as last week he'd give me absolution there and then.

I explained that this was a new sin; never sinned before, and that I needed to go to Confession. He said: "All right ... if you must!" and he sat down in the Sacristy and asked me what was on my mind. I told him about the receptionist’s pregnancy that never was. He asked me to stop wasting his time and suggested that in future I go to Confession elsewhere. I don’t think he likes me.

Today is Sunday and I've had three courses of ravioli. I suppose this is greedy. I'll confess it next week.

That's all for now Diary.

Joseph's Legacy

Joseph is not mentioned often in the Bible. We read about him before the birth of Jesus when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and asked him to take Mary as his wife. (Matthew 1:18).

Imagine his dilemma. He was engaged to Mary when she found out she was due to have a baby by the Holy Spirit. At first he considered doing what many men with a pregnant girl friend whose baby is not theirs would have done - run a mile in the opposite direction.

Being an honourable man he decided to break the engagement privately so as not to disgrace her.

Then the angel appeared to him in a dream; and based on that dream alone he decided to marry Mary and raise her son as if He were his own.

Joseph was an ordinary good Jew, obedient to the Jewish Law. But God intervened and shattered his life-expectations. He is called to a new level of obedience. That of God.

Joseph was there when Jesus was born in Bethlehem and we read about him when he took Jesus and Mary to Egypt to escape from Herod (Matthew 2:13) and then when they returned to Nazareth (Matthew 2:19).

He is also mentioned when the boy Jesus was twelve years old and found in the Temple in Jerusalem (Luke 2:41).

So as Jesus' foster father he was there during His early years protecting Him from Herod and providing a loving family for the Son of God.

What a wonderful man he must have been. Working quietly in the background, without much recognition, doing God's will in raising His Son on earth.

So, what is his legacy to us?

Obedience and trust.

Despite what his common sense told him to do, he did not walk away from Mary. He trusted and obeyed God and decided to stay with Mary. He decided to provide for her and a child who was not his. He taught the child carpentry and raised Him up as his own.

May his obedience and trust be an example to us all. Especially when we are called by God to obey what He commands.

This prayer to St Joseph is said to be over 1900 years old. It was found in the fiftieth year of Our Lord Jesus Christ. In the 1500's it was sent by the Pope to Emperor Charles when he was going into battle. It is a novena to be prayed for nine consecutive mornings for anything you may desire. It has seldom been known to fail.

“O St. Joseph whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the Throne of God, I place in you all my interests and desires. O St. Joseph do assist me by your powerful intercession and obtain for me from your Divine Son all spiritual blessings through Jesus Christ, Our Lord; so that having engaged here below your Heavenly power I may offer my Thanksgiving and Homage to the most Loving of Fathers. O St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating you and Jesus asleep in your arms. I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart. Press him in my name and kiss His fine Head for me, and ask Him to return the Kiss when I draw my dying breath. St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls, pray for us. Amen.”

What's Your Attitude?

I don't know if it's my imagination, but a lot of people are going around these days with a face as if they have a permanent bad smell under their nose.

I know it is not possible to be always happy and cheerful and go along singing and shouting "Praise the Lord!". But some people I know seem to be permanently gloomy as if they're carrying the world's garbage on their shoulders. I accept that at times we all have our bad hair day, the days when things aren't as they should be; that's natural and to be expected. But let's not make a habit of always looking like a mouldy ten year old sandwich in a caffeteria.

Imagine a party, or a barbeque, where everyone is happy and chatty, and the food and drink are perfect, and the weather is wonderful, and the music is playing, and ... one sour faced person looking as if they have just tasted a vinaigrette gateau - if there is such a thing. And if there isn't, then there should be to help me make my point.

That person's attitude will spoil the whole event for everyone. People will remember their face, their behaviour, their demeanour for years to come. If any one is taking photos then that will be permanently recorded for posteriority too. (I know there is no such word - I've just made it up to add effect to my writing).

So let's look in the mirror more often and watch our attitude. Is the person looking back at us the sort of person we'd like to meet? Does he or she make us happy?

Even if it is difficult, which I accept it sometimes is for some, let's make an effort to break a smile. I said break a smile; not break wind. That's an all together different story for another day.

Let's smile more often. If not for us, then for others. A smile every now and then makes someone else happy. Let's tickle ourselves to make ourselves smile. I always carry a feather in my trouser pocket for such a purpose.

Let's watch our attitude.

The other day the postman dropped his hat accidentally and my dog rushed upon it and tore it to pieces. The postman complained to me saying "Your dog chewed my hat!"

I remembered my attitude and smiled broadly.

He said, "I don't like your attitude!"

I replied "It's not my 'at he chewed. It's your 'at he chewed!"

Keep smiling.

Hand me down my Bible

Oho glory-o, now I am the Lord's disciple
Oho glory-o, now hand me down my Bible

I like my liquor and my livin' hard
May the Lord save my soul
My salvation was the turn of a card
My heart's as black as coal
But everybody's got the right to go wrong
Everybody's got to sing my song
Everybody's got the right to go wrong
Sing my song, sing my song

Oho glory-o, now I am the Lord's disciple
Oho glory-o, now hand me down my Bible

Oho glory-o, now I am the Lord's disciple
Oho glory-o, now hand me down my Bible

I don't give a damn for any man
As all the world can see
The time has come to make a stand
To shine your light on me
Come on people let the world begin
Come on now let the sun shine in
Come on people let the world begin
Let it in, let it in

Oho glory-o, now I am the Lord's disciple
Oho glory-o, now hand me down my Bible

Oho glory-o, now I am the Lord's disciple
Oho glory-o, now hand me down my Bible

Oho glory-o, now I am the Lord's disciple

Oho glory-o, now hand me down my Bible

Our Father ...

"Our Father who art in heaven....."

“Yes. How can I help you?”

”Hein? Who’s that?”

“You called me. I’m listening …”

”I didn’t call anybody … I was just praying … The Lord’s Prayer! Our Father who art in Heaven …”

“That’s me … Your Father in Heaven … now carry on praying …”

“Eh … Hallowed be Thy name …”

“Ha … Do you remember when you were very young you used to say ‘Harold be Thy name’? For a long time you were convinced my name is Harold; until someone put you right. What does it mean anyway … Hallowed be Thy name?”

“Eh … hmmm … does it mean you are Holy?”

“That’s right … carry on …”

“Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.”

“Hold it just there … Do you really mean what you just said?”

“Sure, of course I do …”

“Or do you mean ‘Thy will be done’ as long as it is what you want? Do you really accept my will all the time? Even when it’s not convenient for you, or when life gets a little difficult?”

“Well … sometimes when things get really bad I get very worried …”

“At least you’re honest. Remember this always; when things are really bad for you it is still my will. I allow it to happen but I never abandon you. I’m always close to you … all you have to do is trust me.”

“Gee … thanks.”

“Carry on …”

“Give us this day our daily bread …”

“Let’s stop again … This means that I will provide for all your needs. It’s good of you to ask; but rest assured that I will always provide you with what you need. Go on with your prayer …”

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us …”

“Even your neighbour?”

“What?”

“You never forgave your neighbour after that argument you had a few days ago … In fact you still hope that you’ll get even some day …”

“But … but … You know it was his fault!”

“Of course it was … and he did apologise. But unless you truly forgive him, you truly no longer hold a grudge and have no ill-will or ill-feelings towards him; it doesn’t count does it?”

“That’s not always easy …”

“I agree … But true forgiveness means that you no longer wish any retribution or revenge against those who have hurt you. Sure … you’ll always remember the wrong done to you, but let that be a reminder to forgive them once again and to pray for them.”

“Can I go on now?”

“Yes …”

“And lead us not into temptation. But deliver us from evil.”

“This bit is a reminder that Satan is always there trying to take you away from me. He tried to tempt my only Son Jesus, so you’re not going to be much of a challenge to him. Whenever he tries to lead you astray repeat those words over and again and I will come to your help.”

“Thank you …”

“It’s getting late … go to sleep now!”

Understanding St Paul's Letter to the Corinthians

I entered the house after delivering another load of tents to the local Outdoor Pursuits Shop.

Paul was sitting at the table writing on another pile of parchment papers.

“Hello” I said, “would you like a hot drink?”

“What have you to offer?” he asked without looking up.

“Hot boiled fish water sweetened with honey …” I replied casually.

“The same old brew …” he mumbled in disgust, “when will someone discover coffee, or tea or hot chocolate drink?”

“There’s also hot milk and honey from the Promised Land!” I said encouragingly; but he did not answer.

I asked him what he was writing.

“It’s a letter to the people of Corinth …” he said, “I have to finish it today and send it before postage costs go up yet again …

“They’ve asked me for advice on how to live … just basic advice. I mean … can’t these people think for themselves. Here, have a read” he continued, as he passed me some bits of parchment which smelled like old goat skins.

I read … “Chapter 7 - Verse 1”

For some reason Paul always wrote his letters by numbering every chapter and every verse. I don’t know why he did that. Must be some affectation of some kind I suppose. He wrote:

“A man does well not to marry.”

“Hein?” I thought, “what’s he on about?”

I remembered God's advice to His creations. He said "Go forth and multiply!" I am told that a couple of snakes ignored Him. A year later God returned and found everyone had multiplied except the two snakes. He asked for an explanation and the snakes replied: "We're adders! We need logs to multiply!" (Logarithms).

Anyway ... after this mental distraction which I am prone to from time to time, I re-read Paul's Chapter 7 - Verse 1 where he clearly says "A man does well not to marry".

Then he goes on to say that if people are married they should have sex whenever the other person, partner, desires it; unless you have stopped to pray for a while before starting again.

I gulped and looked at him without saying a word.

I kept on reading what seemed to be rather personal advice to these Corinthian people; albeit good advice I must say, and then again, at Verse 7 he wrote:

“Actually, I would prefer if all of you were single as I am …You single people and widows, it is better if you continue to live alone; just as I do …”

I stopped and looked at him writing there. I wondered why he’d never got married. Perhaps having met my mother-in-law he got frightened out of matrimony altogether.

But his advice made no sense. How can he possibly say a man should not marry, and in fact he’d prefer all of them to remain single and live alone?

I asked him, “How would people multiply if they followed your advice?”

“What’s Mathematics to do with it?” he replied without looking up, “they can learn their multiplication tables like every one else!”

“No …” I said hesitantly, “I mean … you know … doing it … having babies …”

“Oh … I gave them a let out clause in Verse 9,” Paul continued nonchalantly, “I told them if they can’t control themselves they’d better get married anyway.

“I really can’t understand those people … why can’t they distract themselves by playing card games, or Monopoly or similar board games. The shops are full of them!”

I kept on reading and I must admit I got a bit embarrassed at the personal advice which followed. He meant well, I suppose, and maybe those Corinthians were a little slow on the up-take and needed very detailed advice on how to live as early Christians.

Then at Verse 26 he repeated his opinions again.

“If a man is unmarried he should stay this way. If he is married he should not get rid of his wife!”

“Charming,” I thought, “no doubt he’s considered the costs of divorce and alimony when giving this advice.

But then his letter continued:

“Are you unmarried? Then don't look for a wife ... I would rather spare you the everyday troubles that married people will have.”

Well, my mother-in-law certainly has had an influence on him; I thought.

I got out of the house somewhat more confused than those Corinthians will be when they receive this letter.

I was met by my wife and mother-in-law coming home from a shopping trip. Before I had time to welcome them mom-in-law said:

“What are you doing lazing in the sun? Have you no work to do?”

Praying to the dark

There are times in life when we all have problems, or worries, on our minds. When things go wrong and we pray to God that He may listen to us and help us in our hour of need.

Often, after we have prayed, we feel that a burden has been taken off our shoulders; we feel all right again. And all is well!

But let's be honest with ourselves. Do we really always believe that God will listen to our prayers and that He will respond. Or is there a harbouring doubt in our mind that perhaps He is not listening. Or He will not respond. Or worse still ... maybe He does not exist at all. And maybe we are talking to a void. Praying to the dark. Talking to ourselves.

Let us for a moment assume that God does exist. Let us assume that He is an Almighty Creator God who loves us and cares for us.

How do you think He feels about our attitude? About our weak faith and trust in Him?

When we pray for something and then doubt whether He will respond or not? Whether He is actually listening or not? And when we take back the problem to ourselves, and try to sort it out ourselves, having prayed and handed it over to Him?

How do you think He feels about that? What does He think about our faith and our lack of trust?

Now there are those of course who do not believe in God at all. Well for them, life is easy isn't it? Because when things go wrong they don't pray to anybody, because they do not believe there is anybody to pray to. So they take the rough with the smooth and everything is OK!

Or is it ... I wonder. Do they also, in their darkest hour, go around searching for a God they don't believe in?

But ... we Christians believe in God. We believe that He loves us and that He cares for us. So let us at least give Him the courtesy to trust Him fully when we hand over a problem or a worry to Him.

Let us trust Him enough to do what is best for us and thank Him in advance for whatever decision and action He takes on our behalf.

At Peter's Gate

Saint Peter sat at his computer, cleaned his spectacles, scratched his beard, tapped on the keyboard and shouted "NEXT!"

A diminutive little man came in trembling in hesitation and carrying his copy of the Catechism.

"Oh not another Catholic are you?" said the Saint frowning at him.

"Yes Sir ... your Sainthood ..." mumbled the little man.

"I thought so as soon as I saw your Catechism," continued Saint Peter, "yet another Catholic trying to get in here."

"Is there a quota, Sir?" asked the man fearing the worst.

"No, of course not!" replied the Saint raising his voice a little, "there is no quota as such. Everyone enters Heaven on his merit. But Catholics can be ... ehm ... let me explain. Sit down over there for a minute.

"Now tell me. What do you understand about Vatican II?"

The man felt his throat and mouth go dry simultaneously. He tried to talk but no words would come out. He gulped once or twice and then said, "I have been married for over 25 years and I still don't understand my wife. How can I understand Vatican II?"

The Saint smiled, "precisely!" he cried, "precisely!"

"You see ..." he continued, "down there on earth there are many Catholics still arguing about Vatican II. What it meant and what it did.

"Jesus and I look down on them and smile at all their debates. They argue about which Form of Mass is better and more valid. Whether the priest should face the altar or the congregation. Whether it is OK to sing in Latin, or have guitars in church or female altar servers!

"Phooey ... that's what I say ... Phooey.

"Our Lord, my Master, said it plainly enough. Not everyone who calls me Lord, Lord will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only those who do what my Father in Heaven wants them to do.

"In other words people should love God with all their might and love one another as Jesus loved them. His sacrifice on the Cross was not a prelude to endless debates amongst His followers about the technicalities of religion.

"Forgiveness ... action ... compassion and love. That's what God wants of people. Not sanctimonious Pharisees debating the finer points of religion." 

The Saint scratched his beard again.

"Don't misunderstand me ... many of these eternal debaters are good at heart really. They do good in life and many find a welcome in Heaven. But oh ... their endless display of knowledge makes me reach out for the headache tablets!"

The small man smiled feebly and said nothing, grateful that he never had the intellect to understand let alone debate the many intricacies of religion.

Saint Peter tapped at the computer keyboard and stared at the monitor for a while.

"I read here that you've been a good man ... trying your best as you got on in life," he said finally, 

"Your wife has been quite a handful I see. I understand now your earlier comment about not understanding her ways," he chuckled.

"She misses you ... you know. She means well and she appreciates you more now that you're gone."

The man wiped his eye with the back of his sleeve.

"Yep ... all is in order," declared the Saint, "you can come in. But take my advice. Always carry with you a tin of sardines in your pocket. Some Catholics in here still insist on eating fish on Fridays.They keep asking me if I have a haddock. I tell them that their constant chatter gives me a haddock. That's why I carry these haddock pills with me all the time. Anyway ... I gave up fishing long ago."

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Visiting A Health Club

THIS IS A TRUE STORY

Years ago when I was a reporter for a radio station I was sent to a new Health Club which had just opened in an old country manor out in the countryside.

I took with me a young reporter trainee who had just started at the station.

We were met by the owner of the club who was most eager for the free publicity. He told us how members of this prestigious establishment could enjoy meditation session, spa and massage facilities, yoga lessons and various other programs to ensure one's good health and mental contentment.

I must admit, I had only tried yoga once before and had resolved not to practice it ever again. The intention was that by getting into all the different positions one would learn to relax and become more supple in body and mind. Rather than become more supple I discovered that my legs and arms became entangled and I was more disjointed than ever before. The only thing I had learnt from that yoga session was how to hold on to a fart for a long period of time.

Anyway, after the obligatory talk by the owner of this Health Club about the importance of being healthy and eating well we were invited to participate in a session which had just started in the Grand Hall of this ancient and prestigious manor.

We left our tape recorders and other gear and entered the Hall to discover that I was the only male there. My trainee looked at me and the smirk on her face said it all.

We were asked to join the group of “Club Members” right at the back so as not to disturb the session. There were about 30 or so women standing on tiptoe with arms stretched above their heads and listening intently to their instructor up front.

My colleague and I stood at the back and copied the same position as best as I could. I was never good at standing on tiptoe because of my big feet. Whenever I stand on my toes my head hits the ceiling!

Our instructor then said, “Relax … arms by your side for a minute or so … now assume the plough position!”

I was suddenly faced with a dozen female bottoms pointing upwards as everyone in front of me lay down on the floor lifting their legs forward and over their heads whilst arching their back as best they could.

This was more than a hot-blooded young male could handle! I was really uncomfortable; I tell you.

Why is it that women who go to these gym classes have to wear those skimpy leotards made of almost transparent material?

I tried unsuccessfully to copy the plough position much to the amusement of my colleague beside me. She bent forward and collapsed in a heap on the floor in a fit of stifled laughter.

The problem with laughter is that the more you try to stifle it the more it takes control of you and the more contagious it becomes. I tried hard not to laugh as I lay on my back and stretched my legs up in the air in a V sign formation rather than held tightly together. Because of my large stomach my legs decided for themselves to go one on either side of me no matter how much I tried to keep them together. 

The instructor then asked us all to sit on the ground cross-legged with our hands resting gently by our sides.

This is easy to do if you are slim and svelte like all the ladies in that room, including my colleague. But it is impossible in my case.

My legs just would not get crossed with each other or remain crossed. The more I tried the more I failed as I wobbled from side to side like an over inflated balloon. My failed attempts were yet another source of hilarity to my colleague as I could see from her shaking breasts that she was stifling an uncontrollable fit of the giggles. The more she looked at me the more she shook like a jelly trying not to disrupt the class.

Our leader asked us to close our eyes and hum, “Ommmmmm” continuously.

Apparently this helps you relax better, or in my case forget the pain in my abdomen as a result of sitting in this unnatural position. Why not let us hum whilst lying down on an easy chair with a nice cool Guinness in hand?

As I hummed quietly I noticed an echo from somewhere. My stomach was gurgling in tune to my uncomfortableness. As I wobbled from left to right the echo from within accompanied my every movement which led to my friend giggling a little louder.

“That’s right …” said the instructor, hearing the noise from the back, “breathe in deeply as you hum!”

My friend giggled even more to the rhythmic rumblings of my insides. I have never been pregnant, my friends, but I assure you I could feel the movements of my little baby within as I wobbled to and fro.

Our next instruction, for reasons far beyond my understanding, was to lie flat facing downwards on the ground with our legs wide open – a sort of Y shape if you could imagine that.

As I lay facing down I could see from the corner of my eye that my friend’s giggles had turned into uncontrolled laughter.

“Stop it!” I whispered sideways.

“I can’t,” she said, “your nose pointing down looks like a woodpecker trying to drill a hole into the parquet floor!”

Now that’s not a nice thing to say is it? So personal too.

A few more exercises later and the ordeal was finally over. I can assure you I’ve never been to a Health Club since.

Our house ... our neighbourhood ...

My neighbour Harry has had 38 concussions in a matter of a week or so. He only lives a stone's throw away.

He is normally a well balanced man. He has a chip on each shoulder.

He often complains that his bad luck in life is due to his continuous bad health. He is such a hypochondriac that he has bought his burial plot next to a doctor's.

He used to work for the police force. His job was to trace in chalk on the ground around a body when it is found in unexplained circumstances. He was fired from the job when one day he traced round a body 25 times. He did not realise the victim was still alive and moving!

He used to jog daily to keep fit. He ran at least four miles a day. By the end of the week he'd reach the next town.

His wife on the other hand is ... very tall with long black hair going down her back. None on her head, just down her back.

She is so frightening that every time my cat sees her he loses one of his nine lives. So frightening in fact that she looks like a scarecrow. The birds have returned all the seeds they took the previous year.

The poor woman had botox surgery on her face. When they told her how much it cost she was not at all surprised.

She used to work as a typist and met a lot of interesting characters. For lunch she used to have alphabet soup.

Her great uncle died suddenly and they did not have time to say goodbye. He collapsed onto a bowl of Cheerios

Harry and her had a young son who left home to be a mime artist. They haven't heard from him since.

When their daughter announced that she was pregnant they asked her "Are you sure it's yours?"

The other night my neighbour Harry phoned me at three in the morning. Can you imagine that? At three in the morning! Luckily I was up practicing on my bagpipes.

In conversation, he complained that our dog is out in the garden barking. The following night I rang him at three in the morning and told him it was not our dog!

A few weeks back Harry complained that he was allergic to his cat's fur. So he gave him away to a friend and got himself another cat.

He went to the doctor to check on his allergy. As soon as he got in the doctor's office he asked him to lie down on the couch. Harry asked why and the doctor said he wanted to vacuum clean just where he was standing.

To test for allergy the doctor put various liquids on Harry's arm and wrote next to them what they were derived from - like house dust, animal fur and so on, to see which liquid would cause a reaction with the skin. Turned out Harry was allergic to the ink in the pen the doctor used.

When they discovered what he was allergic of, Harry had relief written all over him. His kids did it with the same pen the doctor used.

To celebrate he bought a dog, which appears to be just as stupid as you can get. To relieve himself he lifts his front leg and wonders why he is getting wet.

It's a breed I'd never heard of before. He is a pointer. He stands there and points "This is a house. A car. A bicycle ..." and so on.

And that's life in our hood.

Paperwork ... and more paperwork.

It was cold, grey and raining outside. It was so miserable that it would make a happy person miserable, and a miserable one more miserable.

I was indoors in my office. Heating full on. And miserable. Because I had a pile of paperwork to do. Tax returns to prepare. Invoices to sort out, pay and file. Letters to reply to or accidentally on purpose put into the shredder. Final reminders reminding me once more that they are final reminders. Written in red, in bold, underlined and in CAPITAL letters.

As I sat there, busily counting my paper clips, an Angel of the Lord appeared. He tapped me on the shoulder. I fell off my chair in fright. He helped me up and asked me to follow him.

I was soon in front of St Peter. He was in his office too. He had a hundred times more paperwork than me. And great tomes of books everywhere. He struggled to lift one of them off its shelf and onto his desk. I tried to help him.

He smiled and said the other day one of these tomes fell off the shelf and knocked him unconscious for a day. They found him asleep on page 376.

He sat at his desk and asked me for my Form PAX 1.

"What's that?" I asked unknowingly.

"It's your entry Form," he replied gently, "it is like a boarding pass on a plane or ship. Have you got one?"

"No ... I haven't," I gulped.

"Oh dear ..." he frowned, "no PAX 1, no entry to Heaven!"

"Does that mean I go down?" I asked gulping emptiness in my throat.

"Oh no ..." he smiled, "no soul goes to hell by mistake. Every soul is saved and is due to come here eventually. Those that go to the other place are not lost, but misplaced. Their owners have chosen to misplace their PAX 1 Forms deliberately. They knew what they were doing and chose to throw away their PAX all the same. Peace is a gift to everyone. Some choose not to want it. Is that what you did?"

"Of course not," I raised my voice a little, "I was never given a PAX by anyone."

"I think you'll find that you have. You obviously mislaid it. Close your eyes and search deeply into your past, search into your heart. Have you got any PAX there and forgot all about it because you have not used it for a long while?"

I closed my eyes for a while ... then opened them and the paper clips were still there all over my desk.

Peace be with you.

Stupid Street Names

I hate it when Local Authorities name streets the most stupid of names you can't remember; or name a whole area with the same theme. Let me explain. There's an area in our town where all the streets are named after birds - Robin Road, Eagle Street, Pigeon Crescent, Dove Street etc ... fairly easy to remember, I think.

There is also another area where all the streets are named after trees, for some reason or other.

Anyway, I was out there the other day walking the dog when I met an old friend. We stopped and chatted for a while. Suddenly he grasped his chest and fell to the ground. I quickly phoned for an ambulance on my cell-phone.

The operator asked me: "Where are you?"

I replied: "Laburnum Avenue."

She said: "Can you spell it so I can enter it on my computer?"

How could I spell laburnum? I don't carry a dictionary in my pocket. And there was nowhere a street sign I could read it from. I repeated again and again "Laburnum Avenue ... Lab ur num ... I think ... Laburnum ..." but this did not help.

In desperation, I grabbed my friend by his jacket, dragged him all the way down the street, he was heavy I tell you, and phoned again the woman and said: "I am in Oak Street. O-A-K ... Oak Street."

The man died by the time the ambulance arrived.

Now the Authorities want to know whether he died in Laburnum Avenue or Oak Street.

I told them he died on the sidewalk. But this is not good enough apparently.

What do you think?