West Devon vicar swaps sermons for stand-up as she takes on Exeter Comedy Festival

A West Devon vicar is swapping the pulpit for punchlines as she prepares to perform at the Exeter Comedy Festival this June.

Rev. Maggy, 69, an independent minister based in the small village of Meeth, will be taking to the stage on 6 June as part of the city-wide festival. 

Already a finalist in the UK Funny Women competition and winner of the 2024 US Eddie-Folio Award for best comedy writing, she’s proving that it’s never too late or too unlikely to try stand-up.

“If you’d told me that I’d become a stand-up comedian at the age of 56, while still practising as a vicar, you’d have got a very funny look in return,” she said.

“But they do say that if you want to make God laugh, you just tell Him your plans.”

Maggy’s journey to comedy began not under a spotlight, but in the church. 

She spent years delivering sermons, comforting families, and writing bespoke funeral services. 

It was there that humour naturally surfaced.

“Funerals are always terrifying,” she said. 

“As well as the traditional service, I write bespoke ones that reflect the exact level of faith of the deceased and it is so important to get every fact correct, every nuance perfect. This is a human life being laid to rest with dignity and respect with relatives who are grieving and vulnerable.”

“But oddly enough, it was probably the funerals that got me into comedy.”

Maggy explained that a series of unexpected nudges led her to comedy. 

“The US comedian, Jerry Seinfeld, once joked that a survey showed that people’s number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. That means, to the average person, that if you have to go to a funeral, you’re going to be happier in the coffin than doing the eulogy.”

Families often asked if they could share a funny story or a joke about their loved one, and Maggy realised that humour could bring comfort in difficult times.

“There’s nothing like a rumble of appreciative chuckling to salve a sad situation.”

Stand-up, however, hadn’t crossed her mind until a series of coincidences.

“Have you ever thought about doing stand-up?” a man asked her at a talk she gave on the women of the Old Testament.

“I could never do that,” she replied at the time. 

“Just three days later, I saw British comedian Sarah Millican, explaining how she went on a comedy course to regain her self-esteem during a divorce. I thought, again, ‘I couldn’t possibly do that.’ But then, prompt number three came at a funeral.”

“‘You should do stand-up,’ the widow, of all people, said afterwards. ‘Bill would have loved what you did. You are very funny.’”

“When God throws three hints at you within the space of seven days, it’s time to listen.”

Maggy found a five-week stand-up comedy course starting just a week later. Despite her doubts, she signed up.

“I turned up apprehensively to find, just as I expected, that I was twice the age of the teacher, let alone any of the other six trainees,” she said. 

“One young lady enquired of me, politely, ‘What are you doing here? You’re, like, old!’ She added, inconsequentially: ‘I don’t like old people.’ I told her she’d recover from that in time ... and the others in the room laughed.”

Her set was different from the others. 

“I was the only one who had funny stories to tell which weren’t about sex, orifices, relationships, food or the awfulness of other people,” she said. 

“I was definitely something different. Even on the training, I found that I was stripping down their views (and prejudices) about God and spiritual people while simultaneously making them laugh.”

Within weeks, she was performing at comedy gigs around the city. 

“Five weeks later, the six of us had our first comedy showcase on a Sunday night in the middle of Birmingham. When you’re up on stage you often can’t hear your audience so I had no idea whether my set was working. But at the end, for the first time in my life, I heard tumultuous applause. Within days, to my shock and amazement, I was getting comedy bookings to perform all around the city.”

Now, twelve years later, Maggy has performed across the UK, from pubs to spiritual retreats, and even at the Edinburgh Fringe. 

“I’ve done two runs at the Edinburgh Fringe, the first, completely alone and the second one with two other vicars – a Rector from Kent and an RAF Chaplain – in an act called White Collar Comedy,” she said. 

“On the last day of our run, I counted nine ministers, three lay readers and four Religious Education teachers in the audience over the two weeks we were there.”

For Maggy, comedy has a deeper purpose. “Each laugh is shaking out stuck debris, unhelpful beliefs and prejudices, each Bible story re-told brings knowledge to a new generation that may never even have heard the Lord’s Prayer. Comedy can dissolve the sacred cows of religion and lift hearts and open eyes. It can draw laughter from deep within the sacred and dissolve the profane. It can reveal God in a way that this new, secular, busy world can hear and appreciate. To do this work is an incredible privilege.”

And while some have criticised her for blending comedy with faith, Maggy is unphased. 

“Yes, some people have said that I shouldn’t do this,” she said. 

Maggy explained that, in a profession that has been plagued by misogyny and homophobia for centuries, “is one elderly woman making jokes about fundamentalists, atheists and God really going to bring the clergy into disrepute?!”

As she prepares for the Exeter Comedy Festival, she’s determined to challenge more than just the audience’s expectations.

“Having a woman priest in your parish is still only optional – any parish that objects can refuse to have one – and if that diocese has a female bishop they can insist on having a male bishop who has never ordained a woman to come and do things like confirmations etc. But I only found out about that last year! It makes good comedy though!”

With her comedic journey only just beginning, Maggy is looking forward to continuing her work, bringing laughter, faith, and inspiration to all who are willing to listen.