<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sun, 20 Dec 2009 05:18:39 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Holy Humor</title><description>True humorous stories from church life.</description><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-5403353600249727624</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 Nov 2009 12:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-10T05:01:28.568-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>liquor</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>purpose</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>devil</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>incarnation</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Christmas</category><title>The preacher's kid and the liquor boxes</title><atom:summary type='text'>  Not only am I a preacher, but I'm a PK-- preacher's kid. My father was a pastor before me.    Once when I was a teenager, we were moving out of the pastorium, and mom ran out of packing boxes. She asked me to go to the grocery store and see if I could get some more boxes. When I arrived at the grocery store, the manager informed me that they had just disposed of most of their boxes. Not wanting</atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2009/11/preachers-kid-and-liquor-boxes.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/Svljq7Gv47I/AAAAAAAAAxM/7YMMopmivUs/s72-c/Box.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-2124707897310802391</guid><pubDate>Mon, 02 Nov 2009 21:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-02T13:51:13.168-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>introduction</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>introductions</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>relationships</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>relationship</category><title></title><atom:summary type='text'> Introductions can make a huge first impression, either for good or bad.   A man ran into the associate pastor of his church at a restaurant in Savannah, Georgia.  He introduced his associate pastor to some friends, and afterwards his wife told him, "Do you realize what you just said? You introduced him as our 'Socio-Pastor.'"  While some introductions may hurt, other introductions that seem to </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2009/11/introductions-can-make-huge-first.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/Su9ULCmNxhI/AAAAAAAAAxE/voLOtCoQy-Y/s72-c/Introduction.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-8798067993027441000</guid><pubDate>Wed, 23 Sep 2009 14:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-23T07:25:35.985-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>salvation</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>bank</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>name</category><title>Taking it to the bank</title><atom:summary type='text'>When I went off to seminary, I moved from Woodville, Mississippi, to New   Orleans, Louisiana. It was only a few hours’ drive, but the two cultures were light-years apart.     I had been serving Woodville  Baptist  Church as their youth minister. Woodville was, and still is, a small county-seat town located south of Natchez in the extreme southwest corner of the state. Woodville’s claim to fame </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2009/09/taking-it-to-bank.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SrovoH3bpBI/AAAAAAAAAws/mMiA1t4ZCjc/s72-c/NewOrleansbank.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-1921440847034769104</guid><pubDate>Mon, 29 Jun 2009 02:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-28T19:51:35.195-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>preaching</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>gospel</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>cross</category><title>Finding a preacher who can sweat</title><atom:summary type='text'>   An older pastor retired and moved back to his  home in rural Mississippi. A few days later, his phone rang. Below is a verbatim  transcript of the phone conversation:    "You got a King James Bible?" the person  asked.    "Yep."    "Can you sweat?"     "Yep."    "Got a handkerchief to wipe the  sweat?"    "Yep."    "Then I know a church looking for a  preacher."    Apparently, those were the </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2009/06/finding-preacher-who-can-sweat.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/Skgr7lPnbRI/AAAAAAAAAv0/jnmMogo3eXM/s72-c/preachercartoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-933973343489776989</guid><pubDate>Thu, 23 Apr 2009 13:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-04-23T06:49:48.118-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>persecution</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>tobacco</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>suffering</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>spit</category><title>Getting the spitting in Possum Neck</title><atom:summary type='text'> Steve Waldrip is a Christian country singer. He gets to sing at all kinds of  churches. But one of the most unusual was in Possum Neck, Mississippi, which is  just east of West, Mississippi (I'm not making up these towns-- check the map of  Attala County!)    He knew he was in a  country church when they booked a country singer like him for the 11:00 a.m.  service. He noticed that the dress was </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2009/04/getting-spitting-in-possum-neck.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SfBxdpKFj6I/AAAAAAAAAos/5e6tDAHrl94/s72-c/SpitTobacco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-118699324935022855</guid><pubDate>Mon, 09 Mar 2009 18:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-03-09T11:41:57.593-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>deception</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>snake</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>church</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Satan</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>error</category><title>The day a snake visited church</title><atom:summary type='text'>   I've heard of the squirrel that got loose in church, and I even saw a bat get  loose in church. I've heard of snake handlers, but never before have I heard a  story like the one I heard from a pastor's wife in Gulfport, Mississippi. It  seems that this preacher's wife was also a preacher's kid. And one day when she  was a child, they had a snake visit her father's church.    Her father was </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2009/03/day-snake-visited-church.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SbVirJUMuWI/AAAAAAAAAn8/YloQwX3bnMU/s72-c/snake-church.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-7469437227193625360</guid><pubDate>Mon, 16 Feb 2009 16:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-02-16T08:51:24.669-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>witnessing</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>vanity plate</category><title></title><atom:summary type='text'>Solomon said, "Vanity of vanities! All is vanity!" (Ecclesiastes 1:2). But Solomon never got to see vanity tags on automobiles.   Jesus told His disciples that they would be His witnesses to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8). So if a vanity license plate can spark a discussion and share the faith, then I'm sure wise old Solomon would agree. While our cars are "chasing the wind" (Ecclesiastes 1:14)</atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2009/02/solomon-said-vanity-of-vanities-all-is.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SZmZcgaszDI/AAAAAAAAAnI/W4aiTNKwl6Y/s72-c/Vanityplate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-7810670410595549911</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Dec 2008 21:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-01T13:12:25.645-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>coffee</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>humor</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>memory</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Christmas</category><title>Coffee, Memory Loss and Christmas</title><atom:summary type='text'>  I was glad to read recently that drinking coffee can help your short-term  memory loss. You see, I'm a forgetful, coffee-drinking preacher.    Having a bad memory is not good  when you are a minister. When I was pastor of Union Baptist  Church in Roxie, Mississippi, our treasurer had a car wreck. I  went to see her, and before leaving, I offered to pray for her.  As I began the  prayer, I </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/12/coffee-memory-loss-and-christmas.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/STRTIHhEnCI/AAAAAAAAAjc/7rylPsNHuDU/s72-c/ChristmasCoffee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-193066691293510884</guid><pubDate>Wed, 05 Nov 2008 02:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-04T18:28:13.534-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>elections</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>politics</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>vote</category><title>Divided vote eventually unites church</title><atom:summary type='text'>I  heard about a church that called a pastor with a vote of 200-3. The pastor spent  his first six months trying to find out the names of the three who voted against  him. Then he spent the next six months trying to please those three. At the end  of the year, the church voted to fire the pastor. The vote was three to keep  him, and 200 to get rid of him!      There's an old saying that you can't</atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/11/divided-vote-eventually-unites-church.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SREEhSvAF3I/AAAAAAAAAaM/90lIp13pt4g/s72-c/VoteCounts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-2743021993751497026</guid><pubDate>Tue, 23 Sep 2008 18:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-09-23T12:01:50.686-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>secrets</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>hospital</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>truth</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>hide</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>uncover</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>secret</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>privacy</category><title>Keeping your dark secret from your preacher</title><atom:summary type='text'>   Preachers are often called upon to keep confidential their counseling  conversations with the congregation. Many pastors who have been in the  ministry for years have come to learn some deep, dark secrets of members that we  must take to our graves. But thanks to HIPAA, one of the secrets we used to find  out about has been hidden. I'm talking about the real first names of church  members.    </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/09/keeping-your-dark-secret-from-your.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SNk86zdBrpI/AAAAAAAAAVE/2XqS8h_Mh80/s72-c/Hiding.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-43246119027308702</guid><pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2008 20:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-18T13:48:58.983-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>giving</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>misers</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>money</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>humor</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>miser</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>church attendance</category><title>The pastor and the miser</title><atom:summary type='text'>   I once had a church member who  was a miser. To protect the guilty, I'll call him L.B.    Years ago, I was pastor a  little rural church in southwest Mississippi. Soon after I came to the church,  I began to hear tall tales about L.B., who was a  long-time inactive church member. They said he caught rides to work 20 miles  away, and would walk home rather than pay for a ride. L.B. lived simply</atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/07/pastor-and-miser.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SIEBgPlyHbI/AAAAAAAAASw/QywIAQmm7og/s72-c/Oldpickup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-1852350713065045110</guid><pubDate>Mon, 09 Jun 2008 23:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-09T16:50:47.401-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>fatherhood</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>parenthood</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>teaching</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>humor</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>parent</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>children</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>father</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Father's Day</category><title>Dads, Dead Squirrels and Teachable Moments</title><atom:summary type='text'> A father and son were riding home from church, and the boy was filling out a crossword puzzle. The boy said, "How do you spell God?" The father was excited to help in his spiritual development, and gladly replied: "G-O-D," and asked, "Anything else?" The boy said, "Yes, how do you spell "Zilla?"   Brian Harbour tells about a little boy who told his dad that he saw a squirrel flattened in the </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/06/dads-dead-squirrels-and-teachable.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SE3Btn_ZuuI/AAAAAAAAASI/ftXcbNlOu-w/s72-c/ShockedSon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-1864645103984665599</guid><pubDate>Wed, 28 May 2008 13:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-05-28T06:23:44.378-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>gratitude</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>money</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>stewardship</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>God</category><title>How do you slice your pie?</title><atom:summary type='text'></atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/05/how-do-you-slide-your-pie.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-7923125114107613147</guid><pubDate>Tue, 06 May 2008 22:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-05-07T13:03:20.068-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Mother's Day</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>motherhood</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>gifts</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>mother</category><title>Top 10 Gifts NOT To Give on Mother's Day</title><atom:summary type='text'> Like many men, I am not a very good gift-giver. I wait until the last minute  and run out to Wal-Mart. Or I get a gift that I think she wants, instead of what  she really wants. When I was a young husband, I got my wife an iron for her  birthday. It's due to God's grace and my wife's patience that we're still  married. Some men reading this just asked, "What's so bad about giving her an  iron?" </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/05/top-10-gifts-not-to-give-on-mothers-day.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SCDV0lUtQWI/AAAAAAAAARE/5kGN9zKBZ5Q/s72-c/MadMom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-4984070799565439110</guid><pubDate>Tue, 22 Apr 2008 20:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-04-22T13:28:55.232-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Bible</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>commercialization</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>lifestyle</category><title>How do you put a red-letter Bible on an audio cassette?</title><atom:summary type='text'>       The Wittenburg Door has gathered a strange collection of classified ads  for religious products that can take some weird turns.      Bible lovers can buy the Red-Letter Edition Bible on audio cassette (maybe it's  also available on CD). How do you do that? you ask. According to the  manufacturer, "Christ's words are emphasized in heavenly sounds." Download that  in your ipod and certainly </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/04/how-do-you-put-red-letter-bible-on.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/SA5KDlUtQOI/AAAAAAAAAQE/oMj187ZCh2w/s72-c/RedA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-8125990535971685320</guid><pubDate>Wed, 12 Mar 2008 13:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-12T06:43:51.706-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>worship</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Easter</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>church attendance</category><title>Worship now; beat the Easter rush!</title><atom:summary type='text'> When I was growing up, my father was a chaplain in the U.S. Army. Each Sunday  after my Dad preached, I proudly stood by his side at the door as he shook hands  with people who were leaving. I would count how many people came out the door,  and then give him a report when we got home. I'll never forget the count one  Easter at an Army post in Germany. On Palm Sunday I counted 175, but on Easter</atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/03/worship-now-beat-easter-rush.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/R9fd6dHW9XI/AAAAAAAAAPk/SBHj_6u4hgk/s72-c/ChurchCrowd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-1201388078693555105</guid><pubDate>Wed, 13 Feb 2008 16:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-13T08:15:38.148-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>romance</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Valentine's Day</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>love</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>communication</category><title>Song of Solomon good for Valentine's, but quote the right verse!</title><atom:summary type='text'>   It's Valentine's Day, when  everybody talks about love. However, some of us fail to communicate.    A cake decorator in New Zealand  was asked to include the reference to a Bible verse on the couple’s wedding  cake. They requested 1 John 4:18 because it states, “There is no fear in love,  but perfect love drives out fear.” Unfortunately, the cake decorator wasn’t a  Bible scholar so the cake </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/02/song-of-solomon-good-for-valentines-but.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/R7MXcTgZeBI/AAAAAAAAAOw/gOqbalJGH5U/s72-c/FlowersDoor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-4692059294972201811</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2008 14:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-03T06:19:43.850-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>prayer</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>worship</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>disorder</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>order</category><title>Why Bubba was on his knees in front of the choir</title><atom:summary type='text'>The Bible teaches that in worship services, there is a proper place for a prayer, a song, or a sermon, but it should be done in an orderly way (1 Corinthians 14:26-33). Disorder can invite disaster. Just as Bubba.“Bubba” (not his real name) loved to pray loud prayers at his church in north Georgia. Whenever he was called upon to pray, his voice rang out with authority and passion as he called </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2008/01/why-bubba-was-on-his-knees-in-front-of.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/R3zuuRhRwbI/AAAAAAAAANY/erjLbiWW1C4/s72-c/prayingknees.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-2725328916490098780</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Dec 2007 20:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-18T12:17:13.858-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Mary</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>children</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Christmas</category><title>Would the Virgin Mary have worn a new red dress?</title><atom:summary type='text'> Commotion erupted backstage of the church Christmas play when a five-year-0ld girl, who was slated to play Mary, refused to wear anything but her new red dress.     The adults backstage pleaded with her, the director spoke to her, and finally her parents talked to her about the need to wear the costume for Mary instead of her new red dress. The little girl would not be moved, and insisted on </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2007/12/would-virgin-mary-have-worn-new-red.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/R2gqOhhRwXI/AAAAAAAAAM0/5fAXShrnPU8/s72-c/reddress.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-8139303247444083584</guid><pubDate>Mon, 03 Dec 2007 19:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-03T11:55:12.563-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>gospel</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>message</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Christmas</category><title>Oops! Did our chuch sign really say that?</title><atom:summary type='text'>One Sunday night a church member eagerly showed me a photograph he had taken on his  digital camera of our church sign. I read it and said, "So? It says 'Celebrate  Christmas with us.'"     He replied, "No, it doesn't. Read it  again."    That's when I noticed the "R" missing from  "Celebrate."    I just stared at the photo. "Does it still say  that?"    "No, we already corrected it. But I'm </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2007/12/oops-did-our-chuch-sign-really-say-that.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/R1Re8IQMfvI/AAAAAAAAAMs/NYUm3FeKEQY/s72-c/sign+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-2546692492243988931</guid><pubDate>Wed, 17 Oct 2007 19:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-17T12:44:41.442-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>direction</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>church pew</category><title>The danger of sitting on somebody else's pew</title><atom:summary type='text'>Nearly every churchgoer has seen what happens when a person sits in the preferred pew of a longtime church attendee. Generally, if you see a crochet needle and a soft seat cushion on the pew, or the words "In memory of..." engraved in a brass plate, you would be wise to ask an usher before sitting there.   But one lady in our church got a completely unexpected greeting when she sat in somebody </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2007/10/danger-of-sitting-on-somebody-elses-pew.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/RxZl-CYMPNI/AAAAAAAAAK8/5-jB6HzAxWE/s72-c/ChurchPew.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-3798761016695720107</guid><pubDate>Tue, 25 Sep 2007 20:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-25T13:21:20.520-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>sin</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>influence</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>children</category><title>Oh, be careful little, mouth, what you say</title><atom:summary type='text'> Each week I get to tell a Bible story to the four-year-olds at our church Weekday Ministry child care center. And each week I get a reminder that children think differently from adults.   Children think literally. One time I heard a little girl say, "Jesus is in my heart." Then she pulled open her shirt, poked her mouth and nose inside her shirt, and yelled, "Hey Jesus, are you down there?"    </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2007/09/oh-be-careful-little-mouth-what-you-say.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/RvltbCYMPII/AAAAAAAAAKU/KFk4oeCte_A/s72-c/ChristWithChild.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-571226760626600314</guid><pubDate>Wed, 22 Aug 2007 19:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-22T13:03:07.496-07:00</atom:updated><title>"Out of tune" church argues over piano</title><atom:summary type='text'>Churches sometimes divide over music. One church divided over the lack of a musical instrument.It seems this particular church had no musical instruments to accompany the singing in the worship service. Some members suggested getting a piano. It came up for a vote at the next business meeting. After much discussion, the matter was put to a vote. About half of the membership voted "No," since they</atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2007/08/out-of-tune-church-argues-over-piano.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/RsyWaovsFYI/AAAAAAAAAJk/BSLl2-O3anA/s72-c/piano.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-4618568641981680935</guid><pubDate>Wed, 15 Aug 2007 18:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-15T11:19:30.014-07:00</atom:updated><title>The Lutheran who was glad he didn't look like a Baptist</title><atom:summary type='text'>Somebody once told my associate pastor that I "don't look like a preacher." That begs the question: what is a preacher supposed to look like? Is he expected to wear a clerical collar, a black robe and have a stern or "holy" expression on his face? Or is he supposed to have a round, pink face and a round body? I've never thought that I wanted to look like a preacher, until I heard Dr. Laurence </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2007/08/lutheran-who-was-glad-he-didnt-look.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/RsNDdoBNT9I/AAAAAAAAAJc/xZfYXPWS1WA/s72-c/streetpreacher.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1273737731073602430.post-1059042291657229607</guid><pubDate>Sat, 14 Jul 2007 02:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-07-13T19:29:55.704-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>humor</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>gospel</category><title>Don't Let Worries Kill You</title><atom:summary type='text'>Sometimes churches say things that fail to communicate what they mean.A friend sent me a photograph of a church sign that had on its marquee, "Don't Let Worries Kill You-- Let the Church Help."When I was in college, my pastor was telling a story during his sermon about his visit to the Hoover Dam. As he described his visit, he said, "I looked over the whole dam project." Nobody said a word, but </atom:summary><link>http://holyhumor.blogspot.com/2007/07/dont-let-worries-kill-you.html</link><author>brotherbob@windstream.net (Dr. Bob Rogers)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_wUf2BXfEDr8/Rpgz7pCIg5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/qT9tDUW9ufU/s72-c/Let_the_church_help.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>