Can You Hear God Laughing : The Adventures of a Baby Priest

By Mary Koppel

God has a sense of humor, and so should we! Can you hear God laughing The Adventures of a Baby Priest is a reflection on the first three years of ordained ministry of a young female priest in the Episcopal Church. Mary Koppel gives us a glimpse into the every day adventures that test and strengthen one's faith in God and the Church. She ponders deep theological questions and the ridiculous alike. What are the consequences of blessing Are nuts in chocolate a sin What is with the platypus

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 31, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257334698

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Can You Hear God Laughing

The Adventures of a Baby Priest

Mary Koppel

9781257334698

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Can You Hear God Laughing?

Can You Hear God Laughing

It seems to me that God has a very good sense of humor. Think about the kangaroo. Who comes up with an animal that gets around by jumping? That’s a little silly, don’t you think? Ooh, or the platypus, its existence seems to confound those who would label it in one group or the other. It is a mammal that lays eggs! I think you understand what I am writing. I witness God’s sense of humor in my life. In fact, I believe that God communicates to me through humor. I think God’s biggest joke might be me as a priest.

I mean that I giggle a lot at God’s choice for a priest. First of all, I am not a morning person, especially on the weekend. Who thinks 8 AM church is a good idea? It certainly isn’t me. I curse, a lot. I like to hang out in bars with friends. Then there are the outfits; sure I look good in liturgical colors, but what is with all the black? Come on, Almy, how about a few more colors for the shirts, and maybe more patterns, ooh, and t-shirt ones? Oh yes, how about a little more cotton? I live in New Orleans. Polyester was never meant to be worn below the Mason Dixon Line. Ugh, I do not like the shirts.

I am also one of the youngest priests around. One might call me baby priest. With that title, I am constantly knocking over chalices filled with the Blood of Christ and tripping on my stole! I want to be more reverent, but I get bored easily if I am quiet for too long. I went on a Silent Retreat once, once. Need I say more? Okay, I will say more. Within twenty minutes, I was making arm motions and silly faces at another attendee. We snuck out for a walk and started talking.

I am really loud, and sometimes I am obnoxious (if I am being honest). I make bad jokes. I may possibly lack a sense of style, and I do not clean up that well. Still, God calls me to be God’s priest. I cannot imagine why.

I am supposed to love people, even the unlovable, but I can be spiteful, angry, and hold on to hurt. I put my foot in my mouth often. Yet, here I am. The Lord sends me to visit and be with all those unlovable people. So, I go and do what God asks me. You know why? In spite of all my hang ups and problems, I love what I do, and what I am. What I do makes me better at what I am.

God picks the most ridiculous for God’s service. God does not pick the prepared or beautiful. God does not seem to pick the most likely candidate, but God picks the one most likely to respond to the call. So, here I am, Lord, send me.

It has been with this attitude that I responded to the call in March of 1997. I began my priestly discernment with my parish priest. Each step I took, I waited for the answer no. I met with the larger group, the Commission on Ministry. I waited for the no. I met with the Bishop. I waited for the no. The no never came. Obviously, I have pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes or perhaps they have pulled the wool off of my eyes. They see something in me that I could not see.

Now, I am serving in a church. I am visiting the sick, bringing them communion and good cheer. I celebrate the Holy Eucharist and preach every week. I marry couples. I bury the dead. I baptize babies and big kids. I lead youth group. Who thought that I would actually be pretty good at this stuff? I did not, but I guess God did.

Yes, God has a really good sense of humor. The joke is on me, and I love it.

You have heard of the Beatitudes, right? You know the passage: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven… I have put together a list of Bewareitudes. These are a few lessons that I have discovered so far.

Number one: Beware men who wear heels higher than your own. I believe there is deception in those high heels. I have to ask why this man feels that he needs to be taller. What is he hiding? What is he trying to rise above? Unless he is in the French Quarter, dressed in drag, I am cautious.

Number two: Beware men with unusually soft hands (along with this are priests with French cuffs and cufflinks). If your hands are that much smoother than my own, what are you not doing? That is a little too much attention to detail. On the other hand, perhaps I need to use more lotion.

Number three: Beware beef jerky, Twinkies, hotdogs, and any delicious gas station treat. There is nothing evil about any of these treats, per se, just that over consumption always leads to stabbing gas pains. Just be willing to deal with the consequences is all that I am saying.

Number four: Beware the charismatic. Charisma is one way weak character can be overshadowed by a bold personality. Sure, he or she is charming, but can you leave your wallet with him or her unattended?

Number five: Beware waxing instead of shaving. Sweet mother of mercy! I tried using wax to remove unwanted hairs. I felt like I was transported back to the torture chambers of the Spanish Inquisition. They are not lying on the label about not leaving it on too long. I had wax on me for a week, in places that I did not know that I had put it. Ay carumba!

These are my Bewareitudes. Learn from me, for my knowledge is funny and my taste is nice.

One great joy of my ministry is the Wednesday morning Eucharist at 10 AM. When I first began my ministry at St. Martin’s, I had a few concerns. I thought there were not enough people at this service. Our usual attendance was 6 to 10. I thought we should be more inventive with the liturgy. I wasn’t sure what to preach. I laugh at these concerns now.

The people who attend this service are saints. They are completely unaware of their goodness and holiness. Their faithfulness preaches to me. They come every week, and apparently, the heavenly host comes as well. This little half hour is so powerful to me.

The liturgy carries us along, I realized. I do not carry the liturgy. I find that I understand just what communion means. It is all about that community of saints that gathers together to praise God. When they gather, God comes too. We step out of our ordinary lives to do something extraordinary each Wednesday at 10 AM. We meet with our God, our Father in Heaven, the creator and redeemer of the whole world. There is nothing trivial or uninventive about that.

Even now, I feel changed. I feel a sense of renewal. There are things that I need to do. I feel the Lord’s power and presence. I am so happy. This group of little old ladies (and a man) faithfully comes to pray. They are drawn to this service week after week, all year long, for years.

Sometimes I notice God moving and working in my life when something dramatic happens. Now, I am learning that in these quieter times, God still works and moves. God works and moves in the consistency and commitment. Each week God builds a little more in me. In this quiet Eucharist, I reflect. I pray. I change. I am thankful for it.

I love our youth group. Really, I do. I love the children in this group. Let me tell you why.

First of all, the kids make me laugh. They are personable and lovable. The ones, who come to church or youth group, really come to church or youth group. They don’t appear to be dragged. They have great attitudes, and are willing to put up with me forcing them to do Compline.

The first week I led youth group, I did not know what to expect. I never went to youth group as a child, so the idea was foreign to me. I worried that youth group would not be exciting enough. What would these kids be