The Greatest Church Joke in the World — Explained

Seven Ways This Perfect Joke Makes You Think While You Laugh

Most people agree if you have to explain a joke, it can’t be that funny. They’re probably right. However, there is one joke — to my mind, one of the best jokes ever — that needs to be explained. It is funny on the surface — when you first hear it — but it should be explained for the same reason a diamond should be turned in the light: it reveals more and more of its brilliance.

It is a gem of a joke. It’s a short, easily told quip with a fantastic punchline that invites loads of laughter. And the joke is on Anglicans and/or Episcopalians (and maybe Lutherans), especially their preachers.

If you have never heard the joke, you’ll laugh for sure. But — and this is where it gets interesting — you won’t be sure why you’re laughing. It sounds funny, for sure. The punchline is the most famous phrase from the Book of Common Prayer, a funny source for a joke. But still, you’re not sure why you’re laughing.

The author Kurt Vonnegut said that the best jokes are dangerous, and dangerous because they are in some way truthful. I would not call this joke dangerous. But it is true. The joke makes fun of what we consider true: rituals, tradition, preaching, pew-sitting, personal faith, and religion. It pokes at the solemnity with which we approach the sacred work of worship, and it dares to point out we also have a few precious, sacred cows.

So, at the risk of ruining what I consider to be the greatest joke ever told about Anglicans and Episcopalians (or some Lutherans), and the traditions we hold dear, I will share the joke and then present several layers of its meaning and why it deserves to be told and retold time again.

So, here is the gem joke followed by seven — count them, seven — facets of its meaning.

The Joke

An Anglican (or Episcopal) priest steps into the pulpit to deliver his sermon. He taps the microphone to check if it’s on. He hears no sound. Frustrated, he taps again. Still no sound. He makes a commotion, trying to get the microphone to work. Tap, tap, tap. Finally, he exclaims, “Something is wrong with this microphone!” Instantly, the congregation responds in unison, “And also with you!”

Was I right? Perfecto!

Okay, once you have settled down, caught your breath, and wiped tears away from your eyes, let’s dig a little into the joke and why it works.

Seven Ways This Joke Makes You Think

The joke says much about human nature, culture, the Bible, personal faith, corporate worship, Reformation controversies, and at least one key biblical doctrine. And it points to things in ways that are wry, subtle, sublime, and thoroughly, well, Anglican.

This analysis will be quite familiar to those who deliver sermons or teach the Bible. This process is called “exegesis,” a word that even looks funny. But sounds serious. The word means to render a detailed explanation or interpretation of a text.

And so, without further ado, let’s exegete.

1. Conditioned Response

The joke pokes fun at the automatic, Pavlovian-like responses that liturgical congregations often have. The power of liturgy and ritual is that it shapes and trains behavior. But there is a danger with liturgy. That which has the power to shape also has the power to dull.

This is the challenge all liturgical traditions face: what if the written words we memorize and recite in unison do not develop true faith but inoculate us against it? Religious repetitions and routines can become rote.

Since the words can be said without text, they can be said without meaning. The congregation’s automatic response suggests that they may be too familiar with the routines of week-to-week liturgy and not ready to hear the actual message of a sermon.

The joke is funny because we all understand how true this can be.

2. A Universal Truth:

The congregation’s response also highlights a universal truth found in Scripture, from Genesis to Revelation. They’re right! There is something wrong with the preacher. As the Bible says, All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23), including the preacher in the pulpit. The congregation knows something is wrong with the preacher, not because he is ordained or a preacher, but because he is human. We are all sinners.

There is something wrong with all of us.

3. Murphy’s Law

But it isn’t just theological truth. There really is something wrong with the microphone. Dang it! After all the plans and preparations, something goes awry. Again. Anyone who has ever planned a performance, production, or public meeting knows Murphy’s Law is always at work.

The well-known phrase, The best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry (from Robert Burns’s poem To a Mouse) means that even the most thoroughly prepared plans can fail. The joke reminds us of this fundamental reality. Stuff happens. The faulty microphone is a reminder of life’s inherent uncertainty and our inability to manage every aspect, no matter how hard we try.

4. Egalitarianism

The preacher enters the pulpit with pride, knowing he has a word or two to say to the people. But the joke is on him! They have something to say to him! While the people and the preacher are usually separated by distance and elevation — from pew to pulpit — the joke notches the preacher down a level or two.

Anglicanism is essentially egalitarian like this. Our tradition does not elevate one office or role of one Christian — bishop, priest, deacon, or laity — over others. Unlike the Roman Catholic Church, the book the priest reads from the altar, for example, is the same book in the pews. There are no clergy manuals, separate rites, incantations, prayers, rituals, or translations known only to the ordained.

5. Ineptitude

The preacher is a technological Luddite. He is old school. He is uncomfortable with microphones and the public address system. The preacher does what should never be done: tap, tap, tap to see if it works. And then speak into the microphone. When the preacher says, “There is something wrong with this microphone?”, Who is he talking to?

This part of the joke adds to its humor because it underscores the well-earned reputation that clergy are often out of touch with modern technology. I have to say many of us are rather bookish. It might be said of Anglicans that they are a bit behind the times. We might be accused of being experts at reaching our parents’ generation with our grandparents’ methods.

6. Semi-Reformed

The people in the pews do not escape the critique of the joke’s spotlight. Their response reveals their low expectations of the pulpit. Are they biblically-minded Christians, or are they ritually-numbed attendees?

The Anglican Church of England went through its own reformation at the time of the Reformation, but in some ways, we are not sure how it ended. The Established Church of England rocked back and forth from Protestant reforms to Catholic corrections and back, finally settling on the Elizabethan Settlement (appropriately). But nothing was really settled. It was an armistice. Both ends of the spectrum agreed to go forward without bloodshed. It was not a bad decision, but it wasn’t a victory. Who won? No one. It was just settled, and then things settled down. Some churches could be catholic sacramentalists, and some could elevate biblical teaching. The result is this: Our churches are filled with people who love the Lord and love to go to their church, but they may not expect much from the pulpit. The joke points this out beautifully.

7. Common Identity

The uniform and unison response of the entire congregation highlights the importance of the sense of community and shared identity in Anglican worship. Anglicans do not have a common confession of faith. We are not uniformly catholic (small “c”), or evangelical (small ‘e’), or pentecostal (small ‘p’). What binds us together is what we hold in common, and we hold only two things in common: Our appropriately named Book of Common Prayer and the Bible.

Conclusion: Tell it Slant

Emily Dickinson has a line that helps us understand the role that humor (and poetry) plays in telling the truth. She writes that the Truth is sometimes too bright for us to see it directly, all at once. Tell all the truth but tell it slant…The Truth must dazzle gradually/Or every man be blind — .

In other words, we should reveal the entire truth but do so indirectly… The truth should be revealed slowly; otherwise, it could be overwhelming.

Colonel Nathan R. Jessup (A Few Good Men) was right when he shouted You can’t handle the truth. According to Dickinson, we can’t handle it, at least not all at once. The truth needs to be moderated. Modulated. It needs to be translated into a story, a parable, a poem, or, in this case, a joke.

May this joke ever be told again and again, world without end. Amen.

The Rev. David Roseberry, an ordained Anglican priest with over 40 years of pastoral experience, offers leadership services to pastors, churches, and Christian writers. He is an accomplished author whose books are available on Amazon. Rev. Roseberry is the Executive Director of LeaderWorks, where his work and resources can be found.