Donation Jokes

Forgiveness Is a Tricky Thing
Fred was about to tee off on the first hole when a second golfer (George) approached and asked if he could join him. Fred said that he usually played alone, but agreed to the twosome. They were even after the first few holes. George said, "We're about evenly matched, how about playing for five bucks a hole?" Fred said that he wasn't much for betting, but agreed. George easily won the remaining 16 holes. They walked off number eighteen while George counted his $80.00. He then confessed that he was the pro at a neighboring course and “liked to pick on suckers.” Fred, shocked, revealed that he was the Parish Priest. The pro was flustered and apologetic and offered to return the money. The Priest said, "You won fair and square I was foolish to bet with you. Keep your winnings." The embarrassed pro asked, "Please, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" The Priest said, "Well, you could come to Mass on Sunday and make a donation. And, if you want to bring your Mother and Father along, I'll marry them.”
Haggling With St. Peter
An American, a Scot and a Canadian were in a terrible car accident. They were all brought to the same emergency room, but all three of them died before they arrived. Just as they were about to put the toe tag on the American, he stirred and opened his eyes. Astonished, the doctors and nurses present asked him what happened. "Well, " said the American, "I remember the crash, and then there was a beautiful light, and then the Canadian and the Scot and I were standing at the gates of heaven. St. Peter approached us and said that we were all too young to die, and that for a donation of $50, we could return to the earth. So of course I pulled out my wallet and gave him the $50, and the next thing I knew I was back here." "That's amazing!" said one of the doctors, "But what happened to the other two?" "Last I saw them," replied the American, "the Scot was haggling over the price and the Canadian was waiting for the government to pay for his."
Father, It's About My Dog
A farmer named Muldoon lived alone in the Irish countryside except for a pet dog he had for many years. When his dog sadly died, Muldoon went to the parish priest, saying: "Father Patrick, my dog is dead. Could you possibly say Mass for the poor creature?" Father Patrick told the farmer: "No, we can't have services for an animal in church. But I'll tell you what, there's a new denomination down the road, and - no telling what they believe in - maybe they'll do something for your pet." Muldoon said: "I'll go right now. By the way, do you think $50,000 is enough of a donation for the service?" "Wait, wait..." said the Priest hurriedly, "you didn't tell me the dog was Catholic!"