There are all sorts of sinners to be found in the Bible. Thieves, murderers, prostitutes, and more. But no comedians. Angels, demons, and talking snakes, yes. Mimes, stand-ups, and satirists, no. Noah saved two of every species on his ark but perhaps he left all the old testament comics behind to drown in their own bad puns. And who could blame him? Religion and humour aren’t exactly the most compatible of concepts. The former is often used as a means of establishing and consolidating power while the latter is by its very nature iconoclastic and irreverent. Put simply, the sacred and the profane just don’t mix. Prayers end in punchlines about as often as they’re answered. Yet religion is so often at its best when it is bringing people together and jokes are made for sharing. If greed is one of the seven deadly sins, then why keep all the good gags to yourself? Laughter should never be stifled or hidden away in some cramped confessional. It should be heard loud and clear up and down the aisles of every temple, synagogue, and mosque in the world.
I remember in secondary school we would all walk down to a nearby church for mass. And the rector would begin each sermon by recounting a short story about a legendary figure that everyone knew and loved — no, not Jesus. I am of course talking about Bart Simpson. Speaking from the pulpit, the priest would tell us of an amusing mistake that the character had made the previous night on TV and then explain in careful detail how he had learned his lesson in the end through trial and tribulation. Naturally, the mere mention of this spiky-haired Job would trigger giggles and chuckles throughout the nave. The cleric’s reputation preceded him and his love of The Simpsons was well known amongst teachers and students alike. It wasn’t so long ago that it would have been inconceivable to see a priest talking so freely and humorously. The Catholic Church has far too often frowned upon comedy in the past. A veil of solemnity has shielded it from criticism for centuries. But there have always been those willing to poke fun at it, regardless of the consequences.
November 1997
Tommy Tiernan could never have known beforehand that his third appearance on The Late Late Show would be a defining moment in his career. On his way to the RTÉ studios that day, he was trying to decide whether or not to perform a routine about a child looking up at Jesus on the cross. He had always been quite a spiritual person himself and he had even considered joining the priesthood at one point. His crucifixion routine had gone down well with live audiences in the past but he wasn’t certain how it would fare on television.
Tiernan later claimed that he asked God to send him a sign if he should perform the piece. He finally decided to go ahead with the routine when he arrived at RTÉ and discovered that he would be appearing alongside pop-singer / Catholic activist Dana.
As his face appeared on screens all across Ireland, Tiernan joked that the Lamb of God was an actual woolly lamb that pranced around in fields. Sounds like harmless enough stuff, right? But the performance did not go down well amongst the show’s most religious viewers. Three hundred people phoned in to RTÉ to complain. Several members of the public even drove out to the television studios to confront Tiernan in person and the comedian was forced to take shelter at the station until one o’clock in the morning.
Jim Cantwell of the Catholic Press Office spoke out against the routine and argued that it mocked the essential fundamentals of the Christian faith. In the wake of all this outrage, the show was not repeated and there were calls for the performer to be prosecuted for blasphemy. Nevertheless, the managing director of RTÉ refused to ban Tiernan from future appearances as he had not actually breached any of the regulations established by the Broadcasting Act.
On the following week’s edition of The Late Late Show, Gay Byrne apologised for any offence caused by “little Tommy Tiernan from Navan” but the comedian himself was unrepentant. He mocked RTÉ and suggested that the broadcaster be renamed to PPTV – Pontius Pilate Television. Things looked bad for Tiernan as the new year approached on the horizon but the comedian was confident that he would soon have the last laugh.
August 1998
Tommy Tiernan drew from his experience of media controversy and religious outrage for his next live show, Undivine Comedy. Recreating the crucifixion incident and describing the furor that followed, he lashed out against his critics and spoke about how badly he felt Gay Byrne had handled the whole affair. Amazingly, Tiernan won the Edinburgh Fringe Festival’s top accolade with this show, beating fellow nominees Peter Kay and Ed Byrne to the prized Perrier award. He joked at a post-awards party that he planned to retire from comedy and take up gardening. Against all the odds, he had achieved a huge amount of success in an extremely short amount of time. TV stardom now awaited him with an iconic guest appearance on Father Ted and his very own Channel 4 sitcom, Small Potatoes.
Speaking later, Tiernan admitted that he didn’t quite know what he wanted to do after his Perrier win and that he felt confused – revealing to The Irish Times that his immediate plan was to celebrate by getting drunk. Surprisingly, he received a congratulatory gift of flowers and champagne from Gay Byrne upon his return from Britain to Ireland. At the time of the initial controversy, Byrne had felt that the comedian’s crucifixion routine had been completely unsuitable for the programme and was angry that his act had been allowed to go ahead as it was. But the acrimony between them was never personal.
The presenter and the comedian reunited in 2010 to discuss religion and faith for Byrne’s new series The Meaning of Life. After everything they had been through together, Tiernan and Byrne actually bonded during the recording. The pair became friends and soon began to meet for occasional lunches – thirteen years after they first worked together on television. Ultimately, Tiernan recalled their friendship fondly while speaking to Ryan Tubridy in an appearance on The Late Late Show after Byrne’s passing.
In a final twist of fate, Tommy Tiernan now hosts his own chat show for RTÉ.
December 225 AD
Persecution is a funny thing. Or at least, it is in retrospect. According to legend, Saint Lawrence was put to death by the ancient Romans for his Christian beliefs. Stretched across a giant grill, the holy martyr was literally roasted to death over a hot bed of coal. After hours of this painful torture, he mischievously quipped, “You can flip me over. I’m done on this side.”
For bravely laughing in the face of danger, Saint Lawrence was posthumously declared the patron saint of chefs, cooks, and comedians.
With this in mind, I would like to propose a contingency plan to prepare for the censorious anger of religious zealots. The next time a stand-up comic is accused of blasphemy, let us all join hands and pray. If we’re lucky, Saint Lawrence might just intervene on our behalf and smite the po-faced fundamentalists. Failing that, a quick phone call to Lenny Bruce in Hell will almost certainly rectify the situation. After all, I hear the devil has a wicked sense of humour…
