The Sacred Diary of Adrian Plass, Aged 37 3/4

by Adrian Plass

• ISBN13: 9780310269120
• ISBN10: 0310269121
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2005-09-01
• Publisher: Zondervan

Summary

Saturday, December 14thFeel led to keep a diary. A sort of spiritual log for the benefit of others in the future. Each new divine insight and experience will shine like a beacon in the darkness!Can't think of anything to put in today.Still, tomorrow's Sunday. Must be something on a Sunday, surely?Adrian Plass is hilarious, pure and simple. His readers are legion - and this is the bestselling book that started it all, converting thousands of people who love to laugh into avid Plass readers.The Sacred Diary of Adrian Plass (aged 37 ¾) is merriment and facetiousness at its best - a journal of the wacky Christian life of Plass's fictional alter-ego, who chronicles in his 'sacred' diary the daily goings-on in the lives of ordinary-but-somewhat-eccentric people he knows and meets. Reading it will doeth good like a medicine!

Excerpts

The Sacred Diary of Adrian Plass Aged 373/4
Copyright © 1987 by Adrian Plass
Illustrations copyright © 1987 by Dan Donovan
First published in Great Britain in 1987 by Marshall Pickering.
This edition published in 2005 by Zondervan.
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530
Adrian Plass and Dan Donovan assert the moral right to be identified as the author
and illustrator of this work.
ISBN-10: 0-310-26912-1
ISBN-13: 978-0-310-26912-0
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical,
photocopy, recording, or any other – except for brief quotations in printed
reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Interior design by Nancy Wilson
Printed in the United States of America
05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 /?DCI/ 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Saturday December 14th
Feel led to keep a diary. A sort of spiritual log for the benefit
of others in the future. Each new divine insight and experience
will shine like a beacon in the darkness!
Can’t think of anything to put in today.
Still, tomorrow’s Sunday. Must be something on a Sunday,
surely?
Sunday December 15th
Another commercial Christmas! I shall send only ten cards this
year. What is Christmas about, after all?
Our church is getting like an auction room. One blink and you
get ministered to. Sit still and keep your eyes shining – that’s my
motto. This morning was Edwin Burlesford’s fault. Forty-five
minutes on ‘sin’! A record nine-fruit-gum talk. Halfway through,
I was checking supplies when Edwin suddenly shouted ‘LUST!’,
and made me drop the packet under my chair. Put my head down
between my knees to locate it, then couldn’t get up because
Doreen Cook pressed her hands down on the back of my head.
She prayed that ‘our despairing brother would move from darkness
to light’. I was all for that – I couldn’t see a thing. When she
let me get up she had one of those roguish Christian smiles on her
face. Came very close to really giving her something to forgive me
for. Everyone thinks I’ve got a big lust problem now. At coffee
time they all smiled reassuringly at me. Leonard Thynn hugged
me. I signed Edwin’s carol-singing list for next Saturday to show
that I’m not all bad. Gerald’s coming too.
Monday December 16th
My son Gerald says James Bond is on next Saturday evening.
Pity it clashes. Still, carol-singing is the Lord’s work.
Absent-mindedly bought a box of 50 Christmas cards. Never
mind – that’s enough for five years.
Tuesday December 17th
Dreamt last night that I was James Bond.
Wednesday December 18th
Is carol-singing scriptural? Rang Doreen Cook’s husband,
Richard, who thinks Christmas trees are wrong. No luck – apparently
it’s okay.
Bought another 50 cards.
Thursday December 19th
Could it be that God’s trying to say I should watch James
Bond? Opened my Bible at random and put my finger on the
page. It said,
‘The dogs licked up the blood’.
Went to bed. I don’t understand God sometimes. . . .
Friday December 20th
Laid a ‘fleece’. If a midget in a Japanese admiral’s uniform
came to the door at 9.04 precisely, I would know that God
wanted me to sing carols.
9.05: A miracle! No-one came. That’s that then. Leonard
Thynn came at 10.30 selling charity cards. Bought 50.
Saturday December 21st
What an evening!
7.30: Film started. Surprised to find Gerald settling down to
watch. ‘What about carol-singing?’ I said. ‘Oh, no’, he replied, ‘I
rang old Edwin on Monday and told him there was a good film
on, so I wouldn’t be going.’
Why don’t I do things like that?
8.45: Edwin at the door, concerned as I hadn’t gone carolsinging.
Lost my nerve and told him I was still fretting over my
lust problem.
11.00: Edwin left after counselling me for 2-1/4 hours. Missed
the end of the film. As he left, Edwin said, ‘I’m off home to watch
that Bond film. The wife’s videoed it’.
Gerald said it was the best ending to a film he’d ever seen. He
grinned in a rather unchristian manner when he said this. He’s a
good lad though. Patted my head and said he thought God liked
me despite everything.
Next year I am not sending any Christmas cards.
. . . Despite what???
Sunday December 22nd
Guest speaker at church today, dressed in a monk’s habit. He
said that God is nice and he likes us. Everyone looked at Edwin
to see if we agreed. Difficult to tell as he was grinning like a happy
little boy. Speaker kept quoting Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who
is, of course, a Roman Catholic!!
Afterwards, Richard Cook whispered to us, ‘Ah yes, but is she
saved?’
Gerald whispered back, ‘Ah yes, but how many filthy beggars
have you washed this week, Richard?’
Anne said she thought the monk was wonderful, so he probably
is.
Had some news today that would be really depressing if we
weren’t Christians. Anne’s Uncle Ralph, who is the most vulgar
man I have ever met, will have to spend Christmas with us.
Wouldn’t be so bad, only we’ve already got my Great Aunt Marjorie
staying from tomorrow. She condemns wine-gums for their
‘intoxicant potential’! Gerald rubbed his hands when he heard
the news.
Oh, dear. . . .
Lay awake for a while thinking about what the monk said.
‘God is nice and he likes me.’ Felt oddly peaceful.
Monday December 23rd
Met Gerald in the hall when I got back from work. He said,
‘The Titanic has docked.’
Found Aunt Marjorie looking through the TV magazines in
the sitting room. After we had exchanged the customary kiss in
which not even the tiniest part of my face touches the tiniest part
of hers, she said, ‘I am encircling with black ink, those programmes
that are unsuitable and which we shall not be watching
during the Christmas period!’
Gerald poked his head round the door, and said, ‘There’s a
man at the door with a deliverance ministry.’
Turned out to be the postman doing a late round. A parcel and
two cards. Counted the cards we’ve received so far after everybody
had gone to bed tonight. Not as many as last year. Naturally,
I forgive all those who’ve forgotten us, but you’d think they
could make a bit more effort. After all, that’s what Christmas is
all about, isn’t it?
Uncle Ralph arrives tomorrow.
What on earth will Marjorie make of him?
Gerald says he makes Bernard Manning look like the Archbishop
of Canterbury.
Talking of Gerald I’ve decided I must do more with him. He’s
asked me to go along on Friday to hear the new Christian music
group that he’s formed with a few friends.
They call themselves ‘

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Excerpted from The Sacred Diary of Adrian Plass Aged 37 3/4 by Adrian Plass
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.