A joke you can build a sermon around

Mother’s milk to some of us, but you may sense some (contrived) relevance to a Christmas lead in…

A Baptist pastor who loved golf was always needled by his Catholic colleague who regularly bragged about playing golf on Sunday mornings, because he could roster himself on for Saturday night Mass and be free for the rest of the wekend.

The Baptist eventually plucked up the courage to ring in sick one Sunday morning, and sneaked off to the course, where his priestly mate was waiting.

He was just about to tee off, when some young angels who were getting some retraining in Heaven saw what was happening and pleaded with their supervisor to hurl down some judgement on him.

“Be patient and leave him to me,” the supervisor quietly said. And just as the pastor reached the peak of his backswing, he hurtled down to grab the ball as the head of the club came over the tee, and calmly dropped it in the first hole.

The young angels were aghast, but kept their silence, even though the supervisor kept repeating his actions; jhole after hole after hole. Until the sixteenth tee shot, when one of them could not hold back any more: “What kind of punishment is this? With fifteen holes in one already, he’s making history!!!!”

“That’s right,” replied the supervisor, “but who can he tell?”

Without too much eisegesis, you could elaborate Mary’s dilemma. Receiving the promise of the centuries, but risking her neck at breaking the news to anyone, especially Joe. “Honey, great news! I’m pregnant, but don’t worry, it’s God’s baby. An angel came and told me!”

And how does Joseph handle the news? “Mary, people call me Joe, not Slow! maybe it’s time to break it off before the embarrassment gets any worse…”

The rest is history, and we can tell everybody!