Father Joeker

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Eye Contact

During my spiritual conference with our Catholic Women’s Association in Kintampo, one of the participants asked “Father, which is better, to pray with open eyes or closed eyes?” I’m not really sure which one is better, but I narrated the following: Well, I close my eyes when I pray because before I used to pray with open eyes, but a beautiful lady kept batting her eyelids at me. since then, everytime I pray, I close my eyes.”

Cock Fasting

I was busy with our catechism in Kobeda village when the Catechist came with a worried-stricken face because the rooster intended for lunch untied itself and was nowhere to be found. Trying to console him I said, “Martin, maybe the Lords wants us to fast because it is Lent.” He seemed satisfied. After confession, he came back excited. “Father, Father, we found a cock; we shall not fast today!”

Ritual Murder

Two big men apparently illegal loggers came to the waterfalls, now called Our Lady of Kintampo Prayer Park. I chanced upon them washing their big car in the river. Then I started talking, “Just a week ago, I heard the villagers went to a Mallam (Muslim fetish priest) seeking the ritual murder of the some illegal loggers who came to cut trees in the river without permission.” The two men hurriedly left us if chased and driven by an unknown power. I had to overtake them to return one pair of trousers which they forgot at the river bank.

By the Book

After one Sunday Mass, a man came to ask me if I could go and bless his car. Turning the pages of the Book of Blessings, I was talking to myself quite exasperated, “Where is the darn text for the blessing of a car.?” Overheard by the man, he corrected me, “Blessing of my calf, Father, not car.” “Oh, calf!” My first time to bless a calf.

Watering Can

At the back of my car was a watering can which looked like a man extending his arm. In curiosity, the people in the Church of Yara village asked, “Eh, what is that, Father?” “That is to pour water on those who are sleeping during the sermon at Mass,” I said at once.

Woman of Samaria

At Okora in one of my outstations, an Anglican woman, the only Anglican in the village, was advised by her Pastor to join the Catholics in their Sunday service. “Shall I also come for communion, Father?” she courteously asked.” “No, because you have two husband,” I said emphatically. “How did you know Father?” She said. Sometimes bluffing would bring out the truth.