King's Lynn's Carved Comics

When one thinks of medieval religion, its seriousness and gravity spring to mind. It was a world of demons and hell fire, of kindly but stern saints, of weary pilgrimages and endless masses. The Church hierarchy was powerful and wealthy, jealously guarding its rights and privileges; begging to differ with its dogma could land one a painful death sentence.

At King’s Lynn Minster, however, there is a carved wooden screen separating the south chapel from the chancel, which shows all manner of comic characters dancing and gurning. One of them seems to be attempting to eat his own foot; another is prizing open his mouth as far as it will go; another’s body is back to front, with his derriere in place of his torso, while another appears only to have an arm and hand for his body. They are playful and silly, and help us to appreciate that folk five hundred years ago were not all serious and glum, obsessing over purgatory and pompous priests. Even the Reformers and Puritans left alone these carvings, when prim and pious saints’ heads would have been ripped off and cast into the fire.

I no longer tell jokes in the pulpit or seek to entertain. Preaching the gospel is too important for that, and time is too precious to squander on the jocular and light-hearted. Yet neither must we think that godliness is only expressed in sombreness and solemnity. The carved figures of Lynn are jokey and irreverent, and that is why they are so charming. But the regenerated people of God should be known for their mirth and their smiling as much as their sobriety and temperance:

Be glad ye righteous, and rejoice in the Lord, and be joyful all ye, that are upright in heart. Psalm 32:11