Krishnamurti's Favorite Jokes

Here are a few of the jokes Krishnamurti was fond of telling:

“One day, the Pope dies and goes up to the Pearly Gates where he meets St. Peter. He says to him, ‘You must be St. Peter.’ St. Peter answers, ‘And who are you?’ The pope is taken aback, ‘You don’t recognize me? I’m the Pope.’ St. Peter picks up his list and goes over the names, ‘Pope, Pope—I’m sorry, there is nobody here by that name. I’m sorry, but you can’t enter heaven.’

The Pope is shocked. ‘There must be some mistake. It’s impossible—I must be on that list. Please, look again: I’m the Pope!’ St. Peter gets impatient and tells him to buzz off. By now the Pope is in tears and begs him, ‘Please, St. Peter, I’m your successor and the representative of Jesus on earth. I’m the head of the Holy Roman Church. I have a right to enter heaven.’ St. Peter is getting annoyed and says, I’ve never heard of anything so foolish. If you don’t immediately buzz off, I’ll call the angels with the flaming swords.’ The Pope is in utter despair. ‘No, please don’t, I beg of you. Can’t you ask somebody, who knows me? Maybe Jesus or one of the saints will vouch for me.’

St. Peter gives in and says to the chap, ‘All right, I’ll go and ask inside. You stay here. And don’t touch anything.’ So he goes inside, and there are Jesus, his mother Mary, the apostles and several angels and saints. ‘Excuse me, Lord,’ says St. Peter, ‘there is a chap by the name of Pope wanting to enter heaven. He claims to have been your representative on earth.’ Jesus laughs, ‘My representative on earth? That’s absurd, isn’t it? And I’ve never heard of anyone named Pope?’ No one seems to know the Pope, until suddenly the Virgin Mary speaks up, ‘Wait a minute. Pope—isn’t he the one who spread all the rumors about me and the Holy Ghost?’”

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“A man dies and goes to the Pearly Gates. St. Peter says to him, ‘You’ve lived a fairly good life, not cheated or sinned too much. But before entering heaven I must tell you that we’re all bored here. God never laughs, and the angels are quite moody, praying most of the time. So please hesitate before entering heaven. Perhaps, you’d like to go down and see what that’s like. Then come and tell me what you prefer. But it’s up to you. Just ring that bell over there. An elevator will come up and you just get into it and go down.’ So the chap rings the bell and goes down in the elevator.
 
The doors open and he is met by the most beautiful girl, who take care of him, et cetera, et cetera. '‘By Jove’, he thinks, ‘this is life.’ And he says to the girls, ‘May I just go and tell St. Peter?’ He rings the bell, get into the elevator and goes up. He says to St. Peter, ‘Sir, it’s very good of you to have offered me the choice, I prefer down below.’ St. Peter says, ‘I thought you would.’ The man rings the bell again and goes down. The doors open and two ugly fiends grab him and beat him up, pushing and kicking him. He moans, ‘Wait a minute. Just a little while ago you treated me like a king. And now this; why?’ ‘Ah, you were a tourist then.’”

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“There are three monks, who had been sitting in deep meditation for many years amidst the Himalayan snow peaks, never speaking a word, in utter silence. One morning, one of the three suddenly speaks up and says, ‘What a lovely morning this is.’ And he falls silent again. Five years of silence pass, when all at once the second monk speaks up and says, ‘But we could do with some rain.’ There is silence among them for another five years, when suddenly the third monk says, ‘Why can’t you two stop chattering?”

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God has just completed the creation of world, with its ocean and continents and all the creatures, including the humans. As he surveys his work, an angel points out that there is one small spot in the center of Europe that’s been left blank and empty. The Lord says, ‘I must have overlooked the spot. What shall we do with it?’ And the angel answers, ‘If I may suggest it, Lord why don’t you create a land of milk and honey, called Switzerland—with snow-peaked mountains, streams, forests and green meadows, where cows graze that produce the best milk in the world?’

The Lord replies, ‘That sounds good. And what about the humans there?’ And the angel suggests, ‘Why not make them clean, orderly, and hard-working, with the greatest respect for money?’ And the Lord says, ‘So be it.’ And so it was done. After some time the Lord wants to see what he has created and goes down to Earth. He walks among the mountains, enjoying the beauty of the scenery. After a while he comes to a small village, very clean and orderly. As the day is getting hotter, he feels a bit thirsty. So he walks up to one of the cafés with outdoor tables and chairs.

The owner immediately recognizes him and comes running, greeting him with great respect, ‘O Lord, please sit down. It’s an extraordinary honor that You visit our small town and my humble café. Is there anything, anything, that we can do for You?’ The Lord is pleased and says, ‘By Jove, I noticed your splendid cows grazing out there. Give me a tall glass of cold, fresh milk.’ ‘Immediately, O Lord.’ And the man trots off and returns with a tall glass of fresh, cold milk with foam on the top, and places in front of the Lord. He drinks it down with much enjoyment. He’s just getting up from the table when the owner comes running and, with a respectful bow, places a small plate with the strip of paper in front of him. The Lord looks at it and asks the man, ‘What is that?’ The owner bows again and explains, ‘With all due respect, O Lord, that is the bill.’

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“Two friends, one of them a bishop, die in a car crash. They go up to heaven and meet St. Peter. Neither of them has sinned too much, so he lets them in. And he says to them, ‘If you have any special request, tell me now, and I’ll see to it that it gets done.’ The bishop, a religious person, asks to see God. St Peter is startled by his request and tries to dissuade him, ‘Seeing God is a sensitive affair—it’s very shocking. Few people can stand it. If I may advice you, please don’t insist on this.’ But the man is adamant and insists on his wish.

Finally St Peter gives in and tells him, ‘Very well, if you insist. Just don’t blame me afterwards. Go that way and follow the signs: ’God’. And don’t forget to come back here.’ Off he goes to see God, while his friend wait with St Peter for his return. It takes ten to fifteen minutes before he returns. He is a mere shadow of himself, as pale as a ghost, and staggering about in deep shock. His friend is concerned to see him in this state and says, ‘By Jove, what’s happened to you? What was He like?’ But the man can only moan, ‘She’s black.’”

Re: Krishnamurti's Favorite Jokes

Entertaining! Thanks :)

Nicole