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This is a question God

Tell us your stories of churches and religion (or lack thereof). Let the smiting begin!

Question suggested by Supersonic Electronic

(, Thu 19 Mar 2009, 15:00)
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I hate priests
One day, sitting at the computer and working hard, bringing money home to support my family (actually, I was playing Counterstrike till my eyes popped out, along with my mouse's batteries), there was a knock on my door.
I don't mind it, hoping someone else will take care of it. At the second knock, I realize I'm all alone and my dog, smart as he is, can't open the door without the use of opposable thumbs, and also can't tell whoever was disturbing me to bugger off.
So, I get up to see who is disturbing my hard work.

When I get to the door, I smell incense. I don't have cancer to smell things that aren't there, or maybe I have and I don't know it yet, but maybe my neighbor has once again burned incense in the staircase to exorcise bad spirits, Satan, banshees, the yellow-beaked ground hog, Colorado beetles, termites, (real estate) sharks and me, the believer of believers with the sensitivity to smells that are strong and/or are related to the church. I think nothing of it and open the door to see who is so insistent when it's clear that there's nobody home (who would want to open the door). Surprise! In my doorstep is a priest with two blokes behind him (they were the deacons who were carrying the money taken from sinner old ladies).

"Good morning!" he says, stepping inside.
"And a good morning to you, Father" I say smiling, thinking this was going to get funny.
"I came with the-"
"Yeah, I know." I cut him off. "With the tax on stupidity and gullibility, I know, I know. But you need to know that I've been attending school lately and I got brighter. Plus, I went to see the head doctor and I don't have imaginary friend any more. So..." I point him to the door.
"What imaginary friends" asks the priest, letting his basil powered holy hand lower.
"Well, you know, Bob, Johnny, God... People that don't exist, whom I was toking to from time to time when I was alone"
"Blasphemy! How can you say such a thing?"

"Blasphemy - schlasphemy, I can and I will."
"God exists!"
"I know he exists and he needs money. All the old ladies tell me."
"I'll talk to your mother" says he while leaving the house.
"Why? You have to pay your monthly rates and it hurts losing people that chip in?" I ask while closing the door in his face, even if I saw he had turned to drop me another line.

I went back to the computer, trying to resume the "work" from which I was so rudely interrupted, when my phone rings.
"Damn it!" I think aloud "Can't someone have some peace and relaxation in this house?"
On the phone, mummy dearest, screeching like a banshee.
"You threw the priest away from our house and you've been rude to him? He told everyone in the building! The neighbor from 7th floor called and told me that people are going to talk how I wouldn't receive the priest in my home!"
"Wait a minute..." I say, trying to squeeze in a few words.
"I'm not waiting any minute! You go and bring him back! You know where the money are, you give it to him and tell him to bless the apartment! I will not be the talk of the building" she says, hanging up.

"Well, there goes my work" I say, going out to seek the priest.
I found him on the 8th floor, blessing an old lady while she was spitting money like an ATM.
"Father, please come and bless our home..." I mumble looking down.
"You were very rude with the Father!" says the hag, spewing venom out of her eyes.
"I know. I am repenting" I say ironically while turning to the priest, who is looking at me triumphantly, probably thinking he can now pay the leasing for the newly acquired limousine.

"Coming, Father?"
"Yes, I shall come" he says, proudly.
"And will you forgive me?" I ask penitently.
"I shall forgive you"
"OK. How much is the forgiving" I say, taking the money out of my pocket.
His jaw drops, not knowing what to say.
"I should think it's less than an old lady who has sinned all her life, right?" I ask, looking at the hag.

"Maybe I can pay in rates, just as the old ladies pay for divine forgiveness?"
(, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 8:53, Reply)

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