14 FEATURE
IF YOU ’ RE ATTENDING THE FASTING DAY , PLEASE LET THE OFFICE KNOW FOR CATERING PURPOSES ’
A TIME AND A PLACE
It ’ s a fine line though . I was perhaps alone in stifling guffaws at a church recently , at a potentially inappropriate moment , during sung worship . In front of me was an enthusiastic worshipper , taking over the aisles with one of the biggest flags that has graced a church . Lost in the moment , she whisked that flag through the air in praise – but the fabric kept whooshing a hair ’ s breadth past the wig of a gentleman stood just in front of her . He was unaware this flag even existed ; all he knew was the occasional breeze , causing him to keep checking over the ( wrong ) shoulder . She kept waving as he kept turning and readjusting his hairpiece , till she moved on . He never did find the cause of the draft . Was I wrong to hold back a chortle at the sight of these two serious worshippers ? Good for them , I thought – neither was aware of the other ’ s existence ; both were firmly fixated on God . Neither knew the full picture .
I suppose that ’ s something I keep coming back to as I puzzle this world out . Only God knows the full picture , and sometimes from that vantage point , the world may have a comic streak that we can ’ t see . They say that comedy is tragedy plus time – in which case a timeless God would surely have front row seats of the best show in the universe .
Funny things happen all the time , even in church , from mistakes in church newsletters ( my recent favourite : ‘ If you ’ re attending the fasting day , please let the office know for catering purposes ’) to jokes in sermons that ease the message across . It feels like the church is continually pondering how to harness humour as a power for good . Maybe that ’ s just it : we see humour as something that can be an inclusive , joy-giving Good Thing , or a mocking , finger-pointing Bad Thing . If there ’ s an uncertainty in some parts of the church about humour and its uses , perhaps that ’ s because for some time , the church itself has been the butt of the joke .
WHO ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ?
From twee jokes about St Peter the pearly gatekeeper to Richard Curtis ’ s vicar obsession , via Oxbridge poking from Python and the antitheistic rants of Bill Hicks and Ricky Gervais , we seem to put up with a lot . I ’ ve always made my peace with the fact that institutions and authority figures should be held to account , so MPs , vicars and teachers have always been fair game for jabbing and jesting . Traditionally it ’ s been the institution of the church that ’ s been the punchline – God-blessed but man-made and fallible , and arguably on a pedestal . Surely we ’ d all rather a joke at the expense of authority figures like high court judges or Prime Ministers , than at the expense of the downtrodden ?
As a former writer for topical comedy shows such as Radio 4 ’ s The Now Show and The News Quiz , I applaud comedy that punches upwards . ( Whether it ’ s funny or not is a different matter , and entirely subjective .) Granted , I ’ m no maverick satirist – governments are safe around me – but from politicians to pontiffs , positions of power have always been a ready target for mirth-makers .
Yet times have changed . Just as Thatcher ’ s reign fed satirists more than more recent centrist politics , equally the institution of the church doesn ’ t feel like it deserves being a target any more . Maybe jokes that target the church are no longer punching up , but punching down . Fifty years ago , I think the secular world viewed priests and bishops removed from the rest of us , on a higher perch , due for a fall . Today though , Pope Francis washes the feet of Muslim refugees , while the Archbishop of Canterbury reprimands the government on austerity measures . A humble church is far trickier to mock . So I ’ d suggest that anti-church jokes in the past few years have begun to sound crueller – and those telling the jokes are starting to realise this .
GOOD CLEAN FUN
So on the plus side , society might be moving on from knocking the church . A few times in churches , folk have said to me : ‘ I don ’ t like comedy ’. Vicars have told me of stag dos they reluctantly attended at a Jongleurs comedy club , where they endured uncomfortable stand-up routines , head in hands . One or two even sat on the front row and were asked what they did for a living .
The comedy circuit has shifted , and I think become more inclusive as a result . It used to be you were either edgy or at Butlins . Ten years ago , my mum knew of Billy Connolly and Eddie Izzard , but today she likes John Bishop , or David Mitchell , while her friends prefer Dave Gorman , or Sarah Millican , or Mark Watson . With panel shows and Live at the Apollo , comedy as a consumer product is now for everyone .
As a result , I ’ ve taken comedy shows to churches . Originally I did this with just Christian comedians , but non- Christian ( though respectfully clean ) performers have heard what lovely gigs these can be . Some churches , such as St Andrew ’ s Kettering , now run as arts centres during the week . St Andrew ’ s becomes Kettering Arts Centre , welcoming shows from TV comics such as Mark Steel , Jeremy Hardy and Josie Long . The comedians love it : a warm , receptive audience , where the heckling ’ s far nicer . The punters like it : a chance to enjoy a laugh in the knowledge that the routines aren ’ t aimed at stag parties . The church enjoys a regular thoroughfare of people who normally wouldn ’ t come near a church , and see that it ’ s not as scary or forbidding as they thought .
I once heard of a UK Christian comedian , experienced with church shows from Alpha launches to men ’ s breakfasts , who had a Stateside