Michael Edgar Myers President, CTN

Of Heroes, Comedy and Christ.

Encountering heroes is risky. It puts a whole different perspective on the admonition about worshipping idols.

Not just because The Lord is a jealous God. But because, well, people let you down.

On the other hand, those heroes can also uplift you, and teach you a lot about yourself.

So it was at a comedy concert I attended.

My wife surprised me with tickets for The Comic's concert for my birthday three months before. She got together two other couples, and we waited for the appointed day as we should await Christmas. Or maybe as the Hebrews awaited the Messiah.

Part of the excitement was that we would be on a date with adults. Uninterrupted conversation! The other, of course, the chance to see The Comic, whose career has been influential in my own penchant for stories, humor and speech pattern.

At dinner I had that, "Can they hurry and bring the check? I don't want to be strolling in there late" anxiety that exists most days but Sunday. The check came promptly, but the crowd came late, so we sat for 20 minutes after the appointed start waiting for him to begin.

And he did. Simply strolled on stage unpretentiously, wearing a t-shirt, sweat pants, sandals and white sox. It was an odd appearance for a man known to be dapper. As he began his stories, it became apparent that this low-key appearance was, perhaps, costuming.

"I'm old," he said. "I can do things old people do. Like sit like this."

And he comfortably reclined in the cushioned, folding chair and regaled the audience for two hours, very much the old men in my childhood barbershop did -- starting stories, losing track, eventually getting back to the punch line; being upstaged by body functions, and turning those maladies into humor. He offered comments about the news, the President, and how his wife is in charge of his life. He swore occasionally -- mild invectives, we might say. I suppose if you've got to hear profanity, let it be tasteful.

It was a well-crafted performance, as you would expect. More so, because it seemed he had invited us over to his house to sit in his living room and talk. Well, hear him talk.
Even when he lost track, it was hard to think if he had become a doddering old man, or if the entire act -- from the chair to the sandals, even to the box of tissues and the bit on blowing his nose -- was an ingeniously honed improvisation of being an old man.

We laughed hard, the way we laughed at the old men in the barbershop. Only now we laughed because we knew we, like The Comic, had become the old men in the barbershop.

Occasionally he spoke of things spiritual. "I believe you have a soul, and when you die, your soul goes right up for judgment," he said, a lot funnier than it reads on the page. "I want to die before my wife dies. I'm not waiting to die, but I want to die before she does. Because if she goes first, she'll be right up there with God judging..."

To my knowledge, The Comic isn't a Believer. Not that it matters. You just rarely hear of him speaking in spiritual terms. His TV appearances are more traditionally on the Big 3 networks rather than TBN. So, because he's not known for an evangelical slant, when Biblical phrases -- issues -- popped up, even in passing -- my ears perked.

As my ears perked, I found myself hoping -- praying -- he wouldn't go off on a religious tangent. It would hurt because I'm not fond of Christ mentioned in negative forms, but more because my mentor would be the abuser.

And these thoughts came to mind, I found myself missing part of the show. I wasn’t listening, I was judging. My body that had hurt from laughter, was aching now from tension. I was scared he would say something that would undo all the years of joy. “Please don’t say the wrong thing!” I thought, “I’ll never see your shows the same!”

Then, a couple of people from the audience decided that since it felt that he was in the living room, they should respond in kind and speak from their seats. Not heckle, just randomly interrupt.

With skill and class, The Comic acknowledged then dismissed one speaker, then went to the other side of the stage and spoke of matters Biblical. I'm not sure of the transition because, as I said, I was in The Judgment Zone. But it seems he was talking about judgment, and passing on, and I heard, "I have some questions about some things written in the Bible, but Jesus...."

My pulse quickened. My head shook. My partner in puns, the choir director, sitting beside me became silent as a congregation singing a contemporary hymn.

The Comic went on about preferring to deal with Jesus because “Jesus will let some things go, but God...!”

Where is this going? I wondered. What's he saying? That Jesus and God aren't One? Is this the religious slam?

Then another misguided audience member, sitting right behind me, shouted something about one of the TV shows The Comic hosted with children. The Audience Parent was trying to get The Comic to speak to his children, who apparently had darndest things to say. The Comic, however, seemed to be in Old Man Hard of Hearing guise, and didn't quite understand the query. He thought, instead, that the Audience Parent was asking him to talk about the show.

And so, The Comic did, and shared an out-take anecdote:

"This didn't make it on the show," he said. "It was Palm Sunday...."

He went on to explain that he encountered a lad and his parents in a store. The lad recognized The Comic and eventually talked, especially after The Comic complimented him for dressing well, found out they had been to Sunday School, and asked what the lesson had been.

"It was Palm Sunday," The Comic explained. The boy, slowly and in The Comic’s child voice, told of how Jesus led the parade, and everybody loved him and cheered.
"That's great," The Comic said.

"Yeah, but next week," the Lad said, " it's not going to turn out so good for him."

It was, as we judgmental folks go, a redeeming moment.

The Comic finished with a classic monologue, the audience left, laughing and inspired. The Comic, unlike other "heroes" I have met over the years, moved on his reputation still in tact. In fact, a couple of days later, his rep was enhanced.

For, as I ruminated on his spiritual asides, I prayed about my attitude. I caught myself judging, not listening, simply because I discovered when I hear “Bible,” “God,” “Jesus,” in a social setting in which I don't expect to hear them, my armor goes up. Not the armor of protection, but the armor of defense. I can't quote what he said because I was preparing a defense, not paying attention. For all I know, he may have been brilliantly, subtlely, unexpectedly moved by the Holy Spirit to evangelize in terms -- a tongue -- that only others like him understand.

"I mean, suppose he was saying he knew the difference and God," I said, working it out. "That he was saying, really, a lot of people know about God, but really, forgiveness from Jesus is the difference?"

"Maybe he's seeking," my wife said a couple of days later when I shared my insights.

Considering his age, his celebrity, personal troubles, the challenges of any parent, much less those with multiple children, he's probably thinking things a lot more spiritual these days, she said.

"Besides, a lot of Christians have issue with some things in the Bible," she said. “And when we don’t hear Christianese in public, we get nervous.”

And so, my faith was restored. Okay, so maybe he's not an overt Believer. It's clear that he knows enough of what a lot of others in his salary range don't know to feel comfortable -- at his age -- to share what he knows. Is that not witnessing?

I remember praying for him and his family a few years ago when tragedy befell them. I wanted to write a letter to offer Biblical comfort, but haven’t yet.

Somehow, though, this moment was to let me know those prayers were not coming back void. I'm not saying the prayers were the reason that he told the stories he did, but The Comic is being moved by Someone.

"He could have told a lot of stories about the outtakes," I said, told my wife, having thought it over for a couple of days. "But he told that one. About Palm Sunday....and finished with the crucifixion."

The fact he did increases my belief in the most understood part of the Trinity -- The Comforter. And I can take comfort knowing that my hero may not know the Lord, but he's seeking. And he helped me draw closer to Him.