Category Archives: Parables



The land was struck by a tremendous flood. Everyone escaped to higher ground, but a Minister found himself stuck on the roof of his house. A man in a boat came by and said, “Come on, Father, get in my boat and I’ll row you to safety.” “Oh, no thank you. God will save me!” said the Minister. Next, a helicopter flew overhead and a rope ladder was lowered. “Climb up, and we’ll fly you to safety.” Again, the Minister declined: “No thanks. God will save me!”

Eventually, the waters rose above the roof of the Minister’s house and he drowned. When he arrived in heaven he sought an audience with God and complained,”Why didn’t you save me?” God replied, “I sent a boat and a helicopter … What more did you want?


The inhabitants of two villages decided that their village could do with a proper well and a latrine. The folk of the first village drew up rough plans and started work, adapting their plans as required. The folk of the second village are still discussing their design: the style, the decoration, the materials, the colour, etc, etc …


One day a man was walking to a nearby town across some very rough terrain and managed to stumble into a deep pit with extremely steep sides. It took him four hours to finally clamber out.

Some months later he was travelling the same route and because he was daydreaming he contrived to fall into the same pit again. This time, however, armed with some recollection of where the best various hand and foot holds were, he managed to get out in little more than an hour.

The following year he chanced to be going that way again. He remembered that he needed to take care. Nevertheless, he still managed to miss his footing at the crucial point and yes found himself stuck in the same pit once again. But this time he was out again in fifteen minutes.

The next time he had to go to that town he took another route.


There was once a young child whose calligraphy was effortlessly perfect. Then one day someone told him this. It took him twenty years to recapture it.


Mary enjoyed going to the little Sunday school every Sunday while her mummy and daddy stayed on in the big church for the sermon. She thought “Jesus first, yourself last, and others in between” was very clever, because it hid a secret important idea inside a small word and used its letters to help you remember it. She knew what “joy” meant. It was sort of tingly and friendly and made her smile and want to jump about. Singing often made her feel joy. One of her favourites was “Jesus wants me for a sunbeam”. It had a lovely tune. She knew about sunbeams. She had sat in them on sunny days, or stretched out her hand so that a sunbeam would fall on it. Sunbeams were warm and friendly. She sometimes thought about what she should do to be a sunbeam, if that was something Jesus wanted her to do. She wanted to do something for him. He sounded so nice, always helping people or explaining things to them, giving them food and making them better when they were ill. She wanted to be like him when she grew up. She would be warm and friendly like a sunbeam, help people and look after them. She smiled at that thought and, yes, it did make her feel joy. She understood! She decided she would listen carefully every Sunday to what the teacher was saying and see what other important ideas she could learn.

One Sunday morning, after singing and a prayer, the teacher started to talk about God. Mary found the things she was saying very interesting and tried to understand what she was hearing, but she wasn’t quite clear about all of it. When the teacher finished her talk she asked the class if anyone had any questions. Mary put her hand up.

“Yes Mary.”

“Is that right, that God is everywhere in the whole world?”

“Yes, that’s right.

“So is He even here, in this room?”

“That’s right.”

Mary picked up the empty jam jar that was sitting on the table in front of her. They were going to do some painting later.

“And is He even in this jam jar?”

“Yes, Mary. That’s right.”

Mary clapped her hand over the top of the jar, sealing it tight.

“Got Him!” she exclaimed with a big smile.



She strode purposelessly into the room
Her features were drawn
But the rest of her was real
Suddenly she became transparent
“I hope I make myself clear”
Were her only words



Young John was relaxing in Blackpool
From making his daily pile
He lay and dozed down there on the sands
Not far from the Golden Mile

His health and his strength and his beauty
He believed were beyond normal reach
And so he smiled quietly to himself
The hero of the beach

Suddenly some sand hit him in the face
A curse burst from his lips
He opened his eyes – a haggard old crone
Stood before him, hands on hips

He jumped to his feet with fire in his eyes
Lest his manhood come to harm
But the old woman reached out and restrained him
With a hand upon his arm

“This is your lucky day, young man
For I’m a witch, you see
And if you’ll fulfil one condition
Then I will grant you wishes three”

At once John regained his composure
Greed told him what to do
“I want a beautiful mistress,” he said
“And a fortune, and a sports car too”

“Abracadabra! Balaam! Shazam!
There now – it’s done,” she said
“When you get back to your hotel room
You’ll find a young girl in your bed

“She’ll be the loveliest you’ve ever seen
Gentle and kind as well
And the car that you’ve always coveted
Will be parked before your hotel

“And thirdly the sum of a million pounds
Will be deposited at your bank”
The young man gazed at her starry-eyed
Quite overcome with thanks

She reminded him there was a condition
“Oh … what do I have to do?”
“Simply come up to my room right now
And stay the whole night through”

John felt rather less happy at this
But he’d promised and so he went
Where the woman proved quite insatiable
Until John and the night were both spent

The things that she made poor John go through
Seemed a frightful price to pay
But the thought of the money and car and girl
Kept him going till the dawn of the day

But as soon as the first streak of light appeared
He began making for the door
“By the way, how old are you then?” she called out
And he answered “Twenty-four”

“Hmm, twenty-four years old, you say?”
She asked as he jumped into his breeches
“Don’t you think that’s a little bit old
To be still believing in witches?”



Two children were each given an acorn to plant.

The first was interested, pleased, impressed, deeply moved as it gradually grew into an oak tree, a transformation she could never have anticipated, scarcely have believed possible.

The other was bitterly disappointed.

She had wanted a beech tree.



There was once a man who decided, in order to give structure and purpose to his life, that he would try to find himself. To this end he devoted the whole of his available time and energy. He read many books, attended courses and seminars of all kinds and travelled many miles to sit at the feet of great teachers and learned men. Eventually he grew old and died and ascended to heaven. Like every new arrival, he was called for an audience with God, who enquired of him whether he had been successful in his quest.

“Not really,” replied the man ruefully.

“Well,” said God, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you another shot. This time, see if you can work out who’s doing the looking.”



Some folks on the road to heaven
Are tempted to go astray.
All knew Parson Brown was one of these,
And golf what he wanted to play.

For he was only human.
But his flock didn’t see it that way.
“A vicar succumbing while we’re around?
Say, that’ll be the day!”

So every time he drove past the course
He saw the windows wide
And knew well that his stern parishioners
Were watching from the other side.

His frustration raged within him
Till he woke one morning at five.
The weather was fine and they were all asleep
As he crept down to the drive.

He quickly made his way to the course
And headed out for the first green,
Chuckling at the thought of what he was doing
And all without being seen.

But he’d forgotten the Angel Michael,
Who roused God from his forty winks
And said, “Wake up, Sire, it’s Parson Brown
And he’s out there on’t links!”

“Then I must punish him,” said God.
“As you know, it’s my wont with men.
And I promise you one thing, Michael;
That he won’t do this again!”

The vicar meanwhile was teeing off
In the early morning sun
But what a surprise he got when he found
That he’d scored a hole in one.

“Lord have mercy,” he exclaimed,
“Mercy upon my soul.”
But he’d even stronger language
When it happened at the second hole.

He went on to complete his hat trick;
Such golfing must astound.
The only man in history
To achieve an eighteen stroke round.

Even Michael, who’d watched the whole thing,
Couldn’t quite take it all in.
“But … but … but …” he spluttered to God,
“Tell me, how will THAT punish his sin?”

A wicked smile traversed God’s face,
And he answered, “Extremely well.
You and I may know what happened
But who can Parson Brown tell?”

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