COMEDY AND CHURCH

God is funny. Just think about it. He created the Platypus, the Hippopotamus and the toilet paper stuck to the bottom of that lady's high heel. Well, maybe he didn't create the ole' toilet paper trick, but I'm going to stick with my guns and say He's funny anyway. Contrary to MY beliefs, organized religion and even worse, the Church, seems to teach, at least passively, God is devoid of such a silly and useless emotion. I mean, who could ever bolster a missionary offering or bring someone to repentance by recounting a story of the African convert who slipped on a banana peel? It's always the tearjerker that gets the wallets opened or someone down the aisle. Thus, comedy in church is seemingly not practical. Thus it would seem, I have chosen a difficult or even a masochistic side profession, that is, I perform comedy to churches.

I don't even know how to describe what I do actually. If I use the term "perform" it sounds like I am a fake. If I say comedy without putting "Christian" in front of it, it seems non-spiritual. Not to mention, alot of people don't think spirituality and fun mix to begin with. That's fine with me. I have never set out to change the world with my "work" anyway. My unwritten mantra has always been, "I don't seek to alter anyone's position, just their disposition." Laughter has always been important to me and so has church. So why not put them together?

That philosophy didn't help me and my comedy partner, Jamie Sutton once, when we got banned from any further engagements with a church in Cherokee County. They liked our little patter with lines like, "Did you hear there was tennis in the Bible?" "Yeah, 'Moses served in pharoah's court.'" Or "There was baseball too.. 'in the beginning'" (pronounced big inning). Things turned sour when we did a magic trick (always use the term "illusion" inside church doors, please!) that finished with me pulling handkerchiefs apart with a bra between them. It was a good trick and the audience laughed but, in retrospect, we probably should have stuck with our standard "underwear" (male briefs) trick which we had done 100 times before in churches with nary a complaint.

I guess there is something about the sight of women's undergarments that promotes a direct line with Satan (Haven't these guys seen the Victoria Secrets ads with the underwear models as angels?). Though none of the 8 elders that signed the letter were even in attendance, they still called our trick "crude" (Ok, it was in that setting; maybe). They also said some of the lyrics to my songs were objectionable. I was just proud the words in my songs were even considered lyrics. But, typically in church, what could have been accomplished with one polite phone call (or impolite even) had to be handled through committee and formal correspondence.

Though I don't perform with Jamie anymore and go it alone with just me and my guitar, I still face the challenge of being funny without crossing the line. ("Did you hear there were cars in the Bible?" "Yes, it says 'they all went in one accord.'") That's tough when my natural humor is being sarcastic and making fun of people. I guess the bottom line is, "would God think it was funny?" And hopefully, with the right attitude, intent and punch line, the pairing can work; the church and comedy. Besides, I think I have just been let off the hook. With Al Gore himself leading the brigade, a newer, even less spiritual contradiction has been born, the church and... politics.

Billy Murphy -- 6/4/99