Can God take a joke?
OK, it’s time to break my silence.
A publicity announcement for my latest standup show “The Immaculate Big Bang” is touching some nerves. Specifically, there is one offended party named Durand, who is taking issue with a question I have about a certain Holy Mother. The e-blast contained the following teaser joke: “Why is the Virgin Mary such an attention whore?” Which I happen to think is a very legitimate question and one that I want to address on stage in the new show, which I am doing August 6th at La Peña in Berkeley, CA. Anyway, this question upset Durand, who is from San Francisco, a lot. It’s not every day that you offend religious devotees in San Francisco, so I take note. And I would like to offer now a big bang response to Durand’s charges, and explain myself to this dyspeptic defender of said virgin.
Here goes:
First, it’s good to know I have touched a nerve. Makes a comic proud. And it’s not even that I am trying to offend. Yet that one benign throwaway line in the press release has this guy Durand so riled up, that even though he knows nothing at all about me, or the show or my work in general, or, obviously, the point of humor and satire, he took it upon himself to judge my relationship with his higher power as being in danger and in need of overhaul so that it is in compliance with his arbitrary guidelines for the correct practice of faith. Clearly he has very strong feelings about this, and his beliefs are sincere. Not to mention that he can’t take a joke.
I always wonder why the first thing to go when a person is radicalized by a spiritual awakening seems to be a sense of humor. My God not only gets the joke, but is the joke, and certainly appreciates a good laugh, even at his or her or its own expense.
Durand admits that he knows nothing about my take on anything and that his reaction was knee jerk. 
Granted, he was probably reacting to the juxtaposition of the words “Virgin” and “whore,” and paying no attention to the word “attention.” I wasn’t characterizing the Virgin as a whore, necessarily. I was merely using the word whore to point out that she will go to great lengths to get attention, like appearing on toast (actually, a grilled cheese sandwhich).
A decade-old toasted cheese sandwich said to bear an image of the Virgin Mary has sold on the eBay auction website for $28,000.
In any case, in less time than it takes to sell a piece of holy toast on ebay, Durand condemned me for crimes unforgivable. Yet his own saviour would have counseled against any such rush to judgement, as he preaches so many times in the New Testament, which Durand cites instead as a source to justify his outrage and claim that I better think twice about making fun of God’s Baby Mama. I think that the more devout a believer a person is the more difficult it is to adhere to your own standards of conduct and right thought, and therefore the easier it becomes to police the behavior, thought, comments and “energies” of others than to work on one’s own spiritual manifestation, continence, enlightenment and behavior.
If my sense of humor and curiosity are God-given, and my very being and path in life are expressions of God’s will and plan, then how could an idea springing from that sense of humor be out of bounds? Or run afoul of any creator’s sensibilities and wishes? Must all humor be cleared by some Catholic authority, stamped as approved by the Vatican before a good Catholic allows himself to laugh at it? How could an all powerful God be so sensitive as to not be able to take a little ribbing? Especially by the very beings he set to multiplying from a rib?
Adam and Eve Simpson
I think it takes incredible hubris (holy cojones) to assume that just because you are offended by a joke, that God is too, and that it takes even more arrogance to be offended in the name of God, for God. As if God weren’t perfectly capable of heckling me himself or expressing his displeasure on judgement day. “About that joke, Mr. Santiago…”
I am however sincerely interested in what it is about the human psychology and mind and spirit that compels people to practice such a defensive faith, as part of any religion, to venerate any particular holy figure in favor of another, or at all, and that begets such a knee jerk reaction. My method both for spiritual and comedic quest is to question my way through it. Does faith mean that you stop asking questions? Are faith and inquiry (however light hearted), mutually exclusive? I think too often the problem with faith, at least my problem with faith, is that it ultimately asks for blind faith, at which point any questioning beyond the accepted questions and the accepted answers are forbidden as acts against faith and the blindly faithful.
As for Durand’s “pun” with my initials: BS, I personally have no problem with it, especially if he got a chuckle out of it.
But I wonder if his God would approve of referring to one of the Almighty’s children (that would be me, ahem) as Bull Shit? I mean I’d have to assume that despite the restraint of using only the acronym, an all knowing God, from whom hearts and minds have no secrets, would know the meaning and the intent of BS here and that it’s the intent and not the evasive use of the initials that counts. Am I to believe that God would not like my joke, but would be perfectly copacetic with Durand’s? It must be a great privilege to be so intimately acquainted with God’s sense of humor that you can walk that line with such confidence.
If Durand bears witness to the transformational power and influence of the Holy Mother in his life and in the lives of those he knows, and to multiple sightings of the Virgin in San Francisco’s Mission District, I don’t see how my question or joke is any threat to his personal truth and testimony. In fact it only underscores my question. And as he is perfectly within his right to stand by his faith, I am in my right to stand by my joke. Durand counsels me to be careful about how I fashion my comedy because “sins against the spirit of holiness are not forgiven”. And he describes, by way of his condemnation of my joke, how it was the Virgin who inspired him with the call to serve others. Laughter is one of the great universal joys of all mankind. It’s right up there with revenge and free parking. And I think it’s a sin to put a limit on the laughter, however provoking, that so many people are in need of.
Especially by invoking spiritual punishment or disenfranchisement as the price.
And, by the way, I am all for serving others. If making audiences feel better about life by making them laugh night after night isn’t serving others, I don’t know what is.
And Durand should also know that I am perhaps a bigger fan of St. Martin de Porres than he is. Jeez, he’s part of the family. While Durand discovered St. Martin after swearing off alcohol, Martin and I have been tight all my life.
St. Martin and Me Are Buds
I was baptized in his name. That’s right, my middle name is Martin, making my initials BMS, in case Durand should ever like to use all three (the “M” could stand for “Mierda”). We had an enormous statue of St. Martin in our house, guarding the hallway to the bedrooms, all growing up. You couldn’t go to bed or wake up without saying hi to San Martin. I’m sure that my mother, being the Puerto Rican clean freak mom that she was and is, took a special liking to San Martin specifically because he always has that trademark broom of his in hand.My father was also abig fan of Martin, and even bore a resemblance to the saint, although he was certainly no saint himself. My parents prayed to San Martin that I would be born a healthy baby and I was and from then on he was an unavoidable presence at Casa Santiago. And guess which saint made it onto the laminated funerary card at my father’s service when he passed away? Very verily I say unto you it was none other than San Martin. And moreover it’s my father’s death that compels me to take on religious exploration now in this comedic show. Believe me I am not doing it for the profit (sp.) motive.
My father actually bore a resemblance to St. Martin
Finally, as to the rosary beads that turn into gold. Although, I can’t think of many financial advisors that would counsel investing in rosary beads as a hedge against inflation, I think it’s great that, in these hard economic times, such creative ways of riding out the slump exist. And I am glad that Durand and his friends have been the beneficiaries of such miraculous alchemy. However, it does beg another question: Does the IRS get a piece of the increased value in rosary assets, or is that covered by some sort of religious tax exemption? Inquiring, comedic minds want to know.
b
PS: As I finish this, a crazy thunderstorm is erupting outside. Lighting, rain beating hard against my windows, the whole bit. And I can’t help feeling that you know who is taking sides.
The Immaculate Big Bang 