Over time, however, this method began damaging the man’s head, both inside and out. Every day at noon, the man would head to the bell tower and bash his face into the solid metal for it to chime, and then the pastor would pay him. This process continues for several weeks. Success! the bell rings on the strike of noon, and a slightly dizzy no armed man returns downstairs, where a very confused pastor lives up to his promise and grants him $20. Being a quick thinker, the man takes a stance in front of the bell, and begins repeatedly bashing his face into the bell. Later that day, he makes his way up to the bell tower but alas, cannot pull the rope for obvious reasons. The no armed man hesitates, but the offer of $20 a day sounds too promising, so he agrees. The pastor, with a cheeky grin, points to the churches bell tower and says, “You see that bell up in the tower? If you can ring that for me every day precisely at noon, I will pay you $20 a day. Is there any kind of job you can give me, despite my obvious disability?” He goes to the pastor in his local church one morning and says, “Pastor, I am in desperate need of work. “While you preached, people slept while he drove, people prayed.”Ī man with no arms is homeless and looking for a job. “Up here, we work by results,” says Saint Peter. “That man was a taxi driver, and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. He says to the minister, “Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” He stands erect and booms out, “I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Calvary for the last forty-three years.” The taxi driver goes into Heaven with his robe and staff, and it’s the minister’s turn. He smiles and says to the taxi driver, “Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” The guy replies, “I’m Joe Cohen, taxi driver, of Noo Yawk City.” Saint Peter addresses this guy, “Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?” Ahead of him is a guy who’s dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans. “I just want to tell my wife… the word is sternum.”Ī minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say.Ī man slowly stood up and walked just as slowly to the podium. (All the men sighed with unified relief.) “Now,” she announced in a quivering voice, “thank the Lord, Tom is out of the hospital and the doctors say that with time, his scrotum should recover completely.” (Again, the men in the congregation cringed and squirm uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.) We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation, and it turned out they were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Tom’s scrotum, and wrap wire around it to hold it in place.” “Tom was unable to hold me or the children,” she went on, “and every move caused him terrible pain.” (You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagine the pain that poor Tom must have experienced.) The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn’t know if they could help him.” Two months ago, my husband, Tom, had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum was completely crushed. Suzie Smith stood and walked to the podium. The pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express praise for answered prayers.
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