When I arrived at St. Luke’s in Kalamazoo on “International Talk like a Pirate Day” for Pirate Mass, I’ll admit I was uneasy. I’m not a cradle Episcopalian and although the beauty of our structured liturgies played no small part in drawing me to the Episcopal tradition, still I embrace a wide variety of worship styles—everything from dinner church to the highest of high-church liturgies to casual worship around a campfire. But when I sat down and opened the worship program, my eyebrows shot up.
Every word was written in pirate-speak. The opening acclamation, the Nicene Creed, the Eucharistic prayer, the prayers of the people, the dismissal—all of it. The readers were boatswains. The deacon was the quartermaster. God the Father was the Admiral. If I had been wearing pearls, I might have clutched them. I had never experienced an Episcopal liturgy with such… eccentricities.
And yet, I had come with an open mind.
Inside the program, a welcome note acknowledged the campy nature of the service:
“We think it is important to recognize that we can praise God with our playfulness, and indeed, in these challenging times, we all could use a humor break.”
It went on to affirm that the service wasn’t a celebration of the violence and crime of historical piracy but an embrace of the highly stylized language tradition that, for many, can be both fun and freeing. It reminded me that humor and joy are not in opposition to worship but can be part of it.
That note set me a little more at ease.
The sermon, preached by the First Mate (presider), the Rev. Randall Warren, drew me down into the depths – the depths of holiness and theological reflection, that is. He spoke about how holiness and happiness are not opposed to each other, and that God meets us in joy and playfulness just as God meets us in quiet, solemn reverence.
By the end of the service, I found myself leaning in. Costumed lectors and clergy, playful call-and-response, even my own hesitant attempts at my Derry Girls accent – all of it worked together to remind me that joy – and indeed fun! – has a place at the center of our faith.
And that joy is exactly what our diocese is called to live out. Our organizing principle reaffirms this pull to joy: We are called to embody the love of Jesus Christ with grace, hope, and joy.
The joy part matters always, but perhaps especially now. In a world that feels dark and divided, when grief and uncertainty weigh heavy, we need reminders that joy is not frivolous. Joy is holy. Joy is one of the ways God breaks into our lives and our worship, whether through candlelit solemnity, a centuries-old hymn sung in soaring harmony, or a hearty “Aye! Aye!” spoken with a smile and a giggle.
Pirate Mass may not be for everyone, and that’s okay. The point isn’t that we should all trade in our liturgies for eye patches, skull and crossbone bedecked hats, and “arrghs.” The point is that we do not lose sight of joy, of happiness, of playfulness, and even of silliness. That we not forget that God meets us in laughter as surely as God meets us in silence.
I invite you to imagine how joy and playfulness might find a home in your own worship and faith practices. How can you help yourself and your faith community remember that holiness and happiness walk hand in hand? How can you remind yourself and your faith community that we can trust that in both the solemn and the silly, God is there.
Arrgh! Aye, aye! Amen!
