The Sunday Sermon

The reverend Simon Smug writes:


Let me start with a couple of parish notices.

The Low Self-Esteem Support Group will meet on Thursday at 7 to 8:30 p.m.  Please use the small unobtrusive side door of the church.

Weight Watchers will meet at 7 p.m. Please use the large double doors at the front.

The Procrastinators for Jesus meeting has been postponed again.





Sadly, dearly beloved, I have to start with a reprimand.  We are not amused by the graffiti beside our much-prized picture of the Last Supper.  Please remove it.



This is what happens when you book a table for 13 but they all want to watch the football on the telly

Anyway, on to my sermon today.

Anyway, on to my sermon today.

We all make mistakes. We all have cracks in our armour, and the curate and I have seen each other’s cracks many times.  While we were polishing off each other’s catechisms in the vestry the other day, he suddenly interjected.  He told me that I may have partaken too freely of the communion wine last week.  It is right, therefore, that I should correct some mistakes from my sermon. 

Let’s start with the parable.  I’ll repeat the story, because it was only my interpretation that was unfortunate.


You may remember that I told of a man riding his donkey along the dusty road, with his wife behind him, carrying their worldly goods and their crying new-born baby.  A passing Samaritan asked the man; "Why are you riding a donkey, and your wife is walking with the burden of child and goods"?

The man replied: "Well, the reason she is walking and I'm riding is simple - she hasn't got a donkey".

As I said at the time, that story holds a very powerful message for us all, but that message should have been along the lines of man’s selfishness, not “If a woman can't get off her arse and go to work, why should a man pay for her bleedin’ donkey?”.

Next, the reading.  The actual phrase is “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.”  the Book of Common Prayer does not actually mention the word breasts anywhere.


The next error was simply a case of turning over two pages at once.  And Judas threw himself over a cliff, and his bowels gushed out is actually followed by several hundred words before the phrase and the lot fell on Matthias.

As for the famous giant-killing story, perhaps I should have referred to David as a person of small stature, rather than a short-arsed git.

Similarly, it would perhaps have been sufficient to describe Goliath as a giant, without suggesting that today he could have got a job kick-starting jumbo jets.

Further, David’s sling was made from the jawbone of an ass, not the assbone of a giraffe – and I did get just one vowel wrong when I described its contents; I should have said his sling was full of shot.

Finally, I have to apologise for what I did in the offertory box at the end of the service.  In my defence, it did say

For the Sick