Preaching to a Bear
#4 of Silly Stuff
Some jokes may or may not be furry, but they're the type that just need to be told, with the right voices, the best temperament, and a little old-fashioned gloating over the punch line. Here's one such tale that you might want to save up for a good party joke.
At a certain college campus in Texas, where all the tallest tales begin, a trio of chaplains ministered to the students, each to his particular religion. The priest, Pentecostal preacher, and rabbi would often meet at the quieter of the three coffee shops in town, where they exchanged stories of their experiences with the students. Occasionally, one of the students would come to talk to all three, or to ask a question of all three, or -- such as on this occasion -- to dish up a little attitude.
"All three of y'all got it simple," the know-it-all boy drawled. "Anyone can hitch up in front of a bunch of people in a big, safe building. You wanna convince me God's on your side? You try preachin' to a bear!"
The three laughed it off as a joke at first, but as not-so-good ideas will do, the notion kept popping up in their conversations over caramel macchiatos, and the trio decided that it would be quite a test of faith to try preaching to a wild bear. They gave each other seven days to go out into the woods, find a bear, and preach to it.
Well, the campus newspaper got wind of this, and so it was that their ace reporter (well, more like the seven of diamonds, but no sense being picky) was at the hospital when all three of the religious men got back from their adventures, all sharing a room together. Father O'Flannery had his arm in a sling, crutches at his side, and various bandages all over him. The reporter asked what happened, and in his fine Irish brogue, the priest told his tale.
"T'was like this, lad," he said. "I went inta tha wood t' find me a bear, and when I finds 'im, I read to 'im from the Baltimore Catechism. Sure 'n that bear, he want noot t' do wi' me, an' he begun slappin' like a fishwife to her drunken husband! So I grabbed up me holy water, blessin' the beastie for all I'm worth, and the saints be praised, he became as gentle as a wee lamb. Next week, the bishop will be arrivin' t' give him first communion!"
Brother Billy-Bob "Bubba" Johnson was in a wheelchair, one arm and both legs in casts, and an IV drip feeding him some happy juice that he would never indulge in outside of the hospital (except for certain daily religious observations).
"I'm sure that mah brother the Father did all he could, but as you know, brothers and sisters, the TRUE baptism ain't no sprinkle, it's a DUNK! So I went searching for my bear, knowing that GOWD would send me to bring that bear HOME to JEEEZUS! I found that bear, I tell yuh, and I began readin' to him from the HOOOOOOLY WORD, but that bear didn't want no part of it, NO my brothers and sisters, he did NOT! He raised up on those huge hind paws, and I grabbed him and started to wrassle for JEEEZUS! Oh the LAWORD was with me as I rassled him UP one hill and DOWN t'other, back and forth, onward and offward until we plunged ourselves into the crick. I DUNKED his hairy hide and claimed his soul for JEEEZUS, and he was just gentle as a lamb. We spent time in fellowship afterward, feasting on GOWD's HOOOOOOLY WORD."
It was about this time that they heard a weak chuckle from the rabbi, who's lying in a hospital bed, in a full body cast, in traction, IVs running in him, and monitors up and down every inch of his body. "You goyim have it easy," he gasped softly. "You wanna talk tough? Try circumcising one of those critters!"