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Jokes From Another Disillusioned Catholic School Girl

Updated on October 25, 2015

I'll Teach You My Little Pretty

Nun Holding Ruler Like Weapon
Nun Holding Ruler Like Weapon | Source

They Couldn't Do It, But They Sure Knew It Existed

Faith was a big part of Catholic life. We were taught at a very young age that our priests were Christ’s representatives on Earth. Their actions were above suspicion, and they wouldn’t dream of doing anything inappropriate or unsaintly. They enjoyed the Pope’s infallibility by proxy, and through our teachers and parents, they passed their wisdom on to us.

Second in command were the nuns who taught us. Some of them were kind and gentle, but for the most part, they were unsmiling and very strict. This is why they were often the victims of pranks and jokes. After all, the worst way to gain a child’s respect is by forced reverence. Telling him to give his undying devotion to a ruler wielding nun does not make sense to one whose maturity is insufficient to understand that life, in all its glory, just isn’t fair.

Since the nun knew your voice, you wouldn’t do yourself any favors by talking out loud, even if the eyes in the back of her head were not on duty. Rubber bands, elicit bubble gum and paper wads were the weapons of choice in the classroom. While the Holy one was busy scrawling arithmetic problems on the blackboard, or frantically searching through her desk for an object that had conveniently been moved by one of her good Catholic angels, missiles could be dispatched anonymously as long as there wasn’t a tattle tale among the little brats.

“Lay” teachers were even worse. A lay teacher would be employed if there weren’t enough nuns to torture, I mean instruct the student body. These usually female and occasionally male guardians of the young were even more determined than the clergy to indoctrinate their sacred little charges in the morals and precepts of the saints, angels, pope, and all things seen and unseen. In turn, we kids made sure our beleaguered instructors had a taste of the Celestial Barbecue Pit to savor in their quest for heavenly approval. This is to say that the instructors would strive even harder for saintliness, having had a foretaste of life in the Land Of Fire And Brimstone. After all, Satan certainly had a class of gum chewing, paper airplane throwing devils picked out for the eternal edification of any teacher who failed to keep their earthly pupils on the path of righteousness.

Since the Ten Commandments weren’t mean enough to keep the young holy and faithful, all teachers, lay or clergy, could make up their own sins to threaten their charges with eternal damnation. Here are a few juicy ones:

  1. If you missed Mass on Sunday, or a holy day of obligation, for any reason but a death in the family, preferably your own, you would go to hell.

    2. If you took Communion while your soul was not in a state of grace, you committed another mortal sin, and without a timely confession, a guaranteed spot in the Brimstone Hotel.

    3. If a girl had sex before marriage, not only was she a “slut”, but she had led the boy down the path to predation as well. After all, it was Eve who tempted Adam with her whiles and feminine ways, and it only made sense that a boy would need experience before displaying his abilities in the marriage bed. It was the girl’s duty to make sure he didn’t get his practice with her.

    4. A girl should never wear patent leather shoes since, presumably she was wearing a pleated plaid skirt and the shoes would reflect – horror of horrors, those frilly pink panties our mothers used to buy us. This wanton show of harlotry could not help but fill the boy’s mind with thoughts of procreation, sex and “Hey, Joe, don’t hog all of the Cracker Jack for yourself. He! He! Look What Mary Jane just stepped in, and it’s all over those funny shiny shoes she wears.”

    5. When a girl is a little older, she can lure her male classmates (or their brothers) down the path of no return merely by sharing a restaurant meal over a white table cloth. You see, the table cloth would remind the young swain of a bed sheet, which in turn –-- well you get the idea.

The clergy may have been celibate. They may never had had an opportunity to create the “double backed monster”. However, there was nothing wrong with their imaginations when it came to matters carnal. They weren’t allowed to think, act or even mention sex, but there was plenty of energy spent on the subject regardless. Here are some stories and jokes about the Catholic Clergy at its human best.

4 Nuns Go To Heaven ---

Four nuns are in line to go into heaven. God asks the first nun if she has ever sinned. She says, "Well, I've seen a penis."

So God puts holy water on her eyes and lets her enter. He asks the second nun the same thing and she says, "I've held a penis,"

So he puts holy water on her hands and lets her enter.

Then the fourth nun skips the third nun in line and God asks why she did that. The 4th nun replies, "Well, I need to gargle it before she sits in it."

What Do You Expect? Catholics Are ROMANtic

Bad Pun! Bad, Bad Pun!

Two nuns were riding their bicycles down the street. The first nun says, "I've never come this way before." The second nun says, "Yeah, it's the cobblestones!"

You Think You're Nervous? I'm The One That's Going To Hell For This

Jesus Enters Jeruselam On Donkey
Jesus Enters Jeruselam On Donkey | Source

It Would Have Been Even Better If They Had Capitolized The "A"

Not all Catholic teachings appeal to my funny bone. Fortunately, my older brother and sisters were familiar with the commandment “thou shalt not kill”. There were a few times when they might have forgotten their immortal souls in deciding what punishment to dole out to a younger sibling who damaged or destroyed their possessions.

G-d's Innjunctions against killing usually afforded protection to the trespasser, and if the Almighty’s sanctions weren’t enough, our parents would rescue us before any permanent damage was done. After all, funerals are expensive, and they were on a tight budget.

Catholics thrive on gratuitous pain. If it hurt, you should endure it as a sacrifice. After all, Jesus died for your sins, and the least you can do is pay him back with a little skin of your own.

Ours was the religion of hair shirts and self-flagellation. Since most of us weren’t willing to voluntarily itch like crazy, or beat ourselves with a thorn whip, the church turned to other devices to inflict pain.

A Catholic church brags some of the hardest wood pews that were ever invented. Maybe it wasn’t true for the richer parishes, but in the churches I attended as a child, the pews were hard, short of back and leg support, and generally implements of which the Spanish Inquisition would have been proud. Add to the discomfort of sitting on these hard wooden benches the necessity of kneeling on equally hard planks for what seemed like hours on end, and you would have some idea of why one might feign illness or the risk of eternal damnation to skip a Sunday or two. And, lest your sense of empathy for Catholic small fry should prompt you to ask, no, we were not allowed to lean our butts against the hard benches to give our knees a break.

When I was in the fifth grade, I was in a Catholic school that required its students to go to Mass every day. I dreaded it, even though it did get me out of school for a half hour or so. After all, the priests didn’t give out homework, or at least not the kind that required me to practice long division. The Mass was in Latin, which none of us kids understood, and went on forever, which nobody in their right minds appreciated.

I sat next to an older girl. She was 12, and I was 10, and for the most part, we were good friends. She even leant me her prayer book. It was full of Bible stories, and had the good fortune to be on subject while being somewhat entertaining.

One day, I was particularly restless listening to the priest drone on about eternal damnation. The Mass itself was a great example of everlasting torment, and I figured I'd have plenty of practice at suffering in the after life. In the hope of quelling my fidgeting, Teresa Mary loaned me her prayer book, and I started reading it where I had left off the day before.

The story I was on was about the week before Jesus died. He rode through the streets of Jerusalem and people honored Him by throwing palm fronds on the ground before Him and his four legged companion.

The only reason I know the story in its entirety is that it is a staple of Catholic catechism, and I had heard it many times before. However that day, my friend snatched her treasured prayer book back from my heathens grasp after I read the first sentence of the story, because I began shaking with laughter, and was in eminent danger of doing so at an unseemly volume. This is the only sentence I remember from my years as a Catholic, although I was usually put to memorizing more edifying fare.

“One Beautiful day, Jesus rode to Jerusalem on His ass.”

I could have been a nun if all the Catholic teachings were that funny!

Ah, That Isn't Exactly What I Meant, Sister

A Priest and Nun were crossing the desert. Suddenly, their camel died. They were sure they would die of thirst before they reached the next settlement.

The priest said, "Sister, since we're going to die anyway, would you show me your breasts?"

“yes, and Father, since we're going to die anyway, can I see your penis?"

"Yes. A penis is a truly wondrous thing. If I stick it in the right place, it can create life."

"Then, please Stick it in the camel, and let’s ride the hell out of here.

What's A Little Blasphemy Among Friends?

Teacher, I Love Your Class When You Don't Talk

Teacher: “You know you can’t sleep in my class.”

Boy: “I know. But maybe if you were just a little quieter, I could.”

Teacher: Mark, I hope I didn't see you cheating.

Mark: Me too.

So Sweet And Innocent When Sister Is Looking

Girl's First Communion
Girl's First Communion | Source

It's A Mystery

Sherlock Holmes didn’t like mysteries any better than the Catholic clergy does. Our teachers were always telling us that some truly impossible things were absolutely true. If they couldn’t give a reason for their pronouncement, they had one standard response, “it’s a mystery”.

Among the greatest puzzlers in my young mind was the notion that our faith was monotheistic, which means we only had one G-d, but, on the other hand, there are 3 separate entities, those being the Father, Son and Holy Spirit or Ghost. I learned what trinity meant when I was very small. It meant 3 according to my limited sources, all of whom were Catholic. Even our clergy would agree that trinity meant 3, not one, and so the thought that there was only one G-d just didn’t add up, if you will.

“How could that be?” a younger self, or perhaps one of my more discerning class mates may have timidly inquired of the authorities. “If there are three G-ds, how could they be one?”

“There are three members of the Trinity, but there is only one godhead. We aren’t meant to

understand, just believe!”

My classmates and I tittered about a deity that was a 3 bodied creature with one head. We didn’t dare laugh out loud. Sister was a bit too handy with her ruler for that. A kid never knew what innocent philosophical question would be interpreted as heracy, requiring swift and dramatic knuckle stinging retribution. Finally Sister cleared her throat and, I think as much to remind herself, gritted, “There is the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, but there is only one godhead. It is a mystery. Now, take out your readers”

Another Catholic belief that puzzled me was that it was a mortal sin to Miss Mass on Sunday. From what my instructors told me, unless you were physically unable to attend church, you would go to the real Deep South if you died before the next Sunday. My failure to go one Sunday could jeopardize my whole eternity. If I went to Mass with a mortal sin on my soul and took Communion, I would have committed another mortal sin, but at least I would get a little something to eat.

The mystery surrounding Mass attendance was solved with some thought, at least to my eight year old satisfaction. It occurred to me that making failure to go to Mass a mortal sin was one way to keep the Protestants out of heaven. They never went to Mass or confession, so they were collecting one black mark on their souls each week, and were not likely to take a break from their evil Protestant ways to attend Catholic confession. So, I wouldn’t see my nasty neighbors down the street after I died. I could live with that.

Proof Read, Proof Read, And Proof Read Again

The Pope died and went to Heaven. He spent his time studying the ancient religious texts. On earth, he had always suspected that they had not been copied correctly.

One day, St. Peter finds the Pope sitting in his room sobbing.

"What is wrong, Your Grace?" the stunned saint asked.

"I just read the first accurate translation of how priests should live, and the word was CELEBRATE, not CELEBATE! My life was ruined by one missing “R”.

Catholic School Made A Lot Of Us Funny, And Wierd

Look At One Of These If You Need Encouragement

If Eve Gave Away Mankind For An Apple, What Would She Do For A Klondike Bar?

The Blessed Virgin, Mary
The Blessed Virgin, Mary | Source

You're Not A What?

My third grade teacher didn’t think the 10 commandments covered enough, so she made up sins as we went along. She told us that our parents could send us to the Celestial Barbecue Pit merely by saying that our failure to perform a parental command was a mortal sin. This would translate:

Mother: “If you don’t turn your light off this very second, you will have a mortal sin on your soul. Now, take this nice medicine Mommy made just for you.”

One day, Sister Mary Creative gave us a new sin to ponder. She explained that there was a special place in heaven for nuns, priests and of course, the Pope. Another group of persons who would not have to spend the rest of Eternity with the heavenly riff-raff were virgins.

“Your parents can’t go to that part of heaven because they are not virgins,” Sister continued. We were all spell bound, and Sister suddenly realized that she was backing herself into a pedagogic corner. This lesson wasn’t one the parents of her young charges necessarily wanted their children to have, although she did have our rapped attention. “Ah, let’s turn to arithmetic.”

“Before we do,” I called out, “Sister, what’s a virgin?”

Sister’s face turned bright red, and she snarled back, “Lucy, you don’t have any need to know that!”

So, at eight years old, I was convinced that I had possibly committed a mortal sin, and since I didn’t know how I did it, there was no way to confess it. I had one of those bright ideas that only occur to us who have been dropped on our heads, or who have made it a life’s goal to make their fathers swallow a whole pork chop in one gulp. At dinner, I simply announced to my family that I knew I wasn’t a virgin, and I hoped my sisters weren’t either because I wanted my family together in the World To Come. My father almost introduced me to that world a lot sooner than I might have wished.

Mother! You're Embarrassing Me!

Jesus was walking along one day, when He came upon a group of people surrounding a lady of ill repute.

It was obvious that the crowd was preparing to stone her, so Jesus made His now-famous statement, "Let the person who has no sin cast the first stone."

The crowd was shamed and one by one began to turn away.

Suddenly, a woman made her way through the crowd. Finally getting to the front, she tossed a rock at the woman.

Jesus looks over and says, "Aw, Mom!."

This Guy Makes Me Look Devout

Hmmm. I've Seen This Sausage Before

Two angels find a hot dog lying on a cloud. They ask Michael the Archangel if he knew what it was. He didn't, but said St. Peter might. Peter was baffled, and suggested that they ask The Blessed Virgin. She looks at it for a couple minutes, and finally concludes, "I don't know, but if you put wings on it, its a dead ringer for the Holy Spirit".

A Sketch Of My Personality

vecter of an angel
vecter of an angel | Source

Well, Technically, We Stopped At The Playground After Benediction

Lying is against another commandment. It is the one about “bearing false witness against thy neighbors”. For the most part, I didn’t lie about my neighbors. I didn’t lie to them, either. But when the prohibition against falsehood is extended to siblings, or parents, no Catholic child was above weighing the eternal consequences of committing a venial sin, against the immediate results of assaulting the parental sensibilities with the unvarnished truth.

I don’t know what prompted my sister, San Antonia and I to volunteer to sing at Mass, during the summer, and too dang early in the morning, but we did so volunteer. Our church was 9 blocks from our house. In those days, the threat of your kids being kidnapped was not uppermost in a mother’s mind, so we had to walk to the church to do our saintly duties, and we didn’t even have armed guards.

One day, San Antonia and I were fed up with the whole church thing. Reading comic books at the local Pay Less had much more appeal than listening to a priest drone on about our black little souls’ need for salvation. We read all of the latest issues, and finally started home. Our reading had lasted long enough to account for the time we needed to attend Mass, however “Dennis the Menace” and “Archie” did not offer a practical way to explain why we were so late coming home. Never one to miss a good trick of logic, San Antonia pointed out a technicality, that if I agreed upon might save our hides. After all, we had already earned the black mark on our souls, and now saving our mortal coils took on some immediacy. “Why don’t we stop at the playground for a half hour or so, and tell Mom we did it after Benediction.”

Our story wasn’t exactly a lie, SA reasoned. After all, we had lingered with the comic books long enough to miss church, ergo, it was after the benediction. I won’t say that this event inspired me to go to law school, but it did tell me that finding loop holes has its place in a Catholic child’s innocent little heart.

The Queen Of Heaven Says, "Who's Zoomin Who?" No, Wait, That Was The Queen Of Soul

An old German man was feeling guilty about something he had done, so he decided to go to Confession.

He said, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. During World War II I hid a refugee in my attic."

The priest said, "But that's not a sin!

"But, I charged him 50 Marks a week.”

The priest said, but you did save his life, and that is a good thing. Don't worry God forgives."

The German says, "Thank you, Father, but do I have to tell him the war is over?"

The Lapsed Catholic's Patron Saint

Okay, Sister, You Win

Two boys were arguing when their teacher, Sister Mary Rose entered the room. She says, "Why are you arguing?" One boy answers, "We found a ten dollor bill and decided to give it to whoever tells the biggest lie." "You should be ashamed of yourselves," said the nun, "When I was your age I didn't even know what a lie was." The boys gave the ten dollars to her.

What The Heck? How Did He Get Out?

John And Peter At Jesus' Empty Tomb
John And Peter At Jesus' Empty Tomb | Source

Bless Me Father, For I Have Joked

There are people who believe in the Pope’s authority, and are devout Catholics. I bear them no lack of respect. I am writing about the impressions I had growing up Catholic.

The events in my life probably don’t reflect the experiences of others. Well, most of them passed muster with other Catholics, so I will just say that my recollections are nothing but the truth, the whole truth, and a little exaggeration here and there.

The one thing the Catholic Church gave me was the realization that there is a world of the spirit. We are inter-connected, and we all develop our view of life at our own speed, and in our own ways. The most importance any faith or even idea can have is whether it addresses the needs of your spirit.

I am not laughing at Catholics. After all, I was named after a nun and a pope. If I treated Catholicism with less than respect, I apologize. However, please don’t confuse irreverence, which I admit, with contempt, which is just plain mean, and is nothing I ever felt against religion, Catholic or otherwise.

Please feel free to leave feedback. In fact, I hope you do. I think God is always grist for a fine discussion.

Bishop Sheen Has A Lot Of Useful Thoughts For Catholics, And other Spiritual Seekers As Well


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