Minister: Woe unto me for I have lost the keys of St Mungo's, Mill-on-Flume.
Minister's Spouse: Is that the big set?
Minister: Forinasmuch as it's the keys to a rural Church of England church building, yea it is a big set. The keys are as numerous even as the grains of sand on the seashore - even unto the stars in the sky, including those we cannot see. But they are all big sets.
Minister's Spouse: But is the front door key big?
Minister: The front door key is like unto the weaver's rod, or even the Leviathan that sporteth in the deeps. But not quite as big as that of St Mary's, Sutton-by-Flume or St Midge's, Bridgeton-on-Flume.
Minister's Spouse: Lo, are these the keys of which thou art deprived?
Minister: As it is clearly written on the little red key fob, these are the keys of St Jemima's, Little Mincing.
Minister's Spouse: And what of these keys?
Minister: The green fob indicateth that these are St Hamble's, Hambletown-on-the-Heath.
Minister's Spouse: Let us pray unto St Antony.
All: O St Antony, saint of all lost things, pray for thy servants that we find the lost keys of St Mungo's, Mill-on-Flume. And let this not be unto us like when we lost the fountain pen, and through thy intercessions found it just as its replacement was delivered by the Man of Yodel. Amen.
Minister's Spouse: When didst thou last see thy keys unto St Mungo's?
Minister: When I locked the door of St Mungo's last Wednesay after Mattins, which is also called Morning Prayer.
Minister's Spouse: And then whither goest thou?
Minister: Around and about. Unto the petrol station which is called Morrison's, then the Post Office, then I returned to the parsonage and fell asleep while mowing the grass.
Minister's Spouse: And hast checked the grass?
Minister: All grass is like grass. And there be no keys to be found. No, not even one.
Minister's Spouse: Didst leave them in thine other trousers, which I put in the wash?
Minister: If thou hadst put my other trousers in the wash with the keys of St Mungo's, then wouldst thou have known all about it when the washing mashine madest a noise like the cymbals of David as he danced before the Ark.
Minister's Spouse: And then wouldst thou have been dressed like David as he danced before the Ark, given what that would have done to thy trousers.
Minister: Verily.
Minister's Spouse: And didst leave them on the desk?
Minister: Nay, for I work at my desk and there are there no keys.
Minister's Spouse: What are these keys from the top of the food cupboard?
Minister: Those are the keys of Great St Edward's.
Minister's Spouse: And these from the sill of the round window?
Minister: Those are the keys of St Edward the Less.
Minister's Spouse: What about these keys I found in the electric cupboard?
Minister: Verily those are the keys of St Humpty's, Humpington Magna.
Minister: Art thou also Rector of Humpington Magna?
Minister: I guess I must be.
Minister's Spouse: Here they are, in your coat.
Minister: Oh yeah. I remember now.
Blessing:
All: Thank goodness for that. Amen.
I can recall the Key Board in the Vicarage of my previous benefice of five churches. Without labels or key fobs on anything of them, a guessing game was needed to find the key for a particular church and reality check when you drove a mile or so to find you had the wrong keys. I had to put a label on the right keys when identified or it would have been hopeless. Of course the Vicar and Church Wardens for each church could recognise their own keys, but a helpless lay person was in the dark.
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