“A year ago I would not have foreseen doing this. It remains a bit mysterious to me why, after 55 years on the planet, I suddenly felt this profound connection with the sweep of the Bible and the joy of contemplating it,” shared Kelly Lamrock, who is currently taking the Graduate Certificate in Theological Studies Program at AST. 

Lamrock has spent his professional life in public service and public policy—serving as Minister of Education and Attorney-General in New Brunswick, working as a lawyer and political consultant, working in Tunisia advising government on democratic transitions, working with First Nations governments, and teaching human rights at St. Thomas University (STU). His current role is Child, Youth, and Seniors Advocate for N.B.

“The common thread in those jobs is trying to find the right laws and policies to bring about social justice,” he added. 

We caught up with Lamrock to explore his surprising decision to pursue graduate studies in theology, the surprising overlap between comedy and faith, and why he believes it’s never too late to embrace curiosity. 

What led you to pursue the GCTS at AST, alongside your legal and comedy background?

In the last 10 years we’ve seen great fraying in society—communities are breaking down, institutions are losing trust, and polarization and inequality are growing. I’ve seen signs that our problems are as much spiritual as they are programmatic. We disagree on the laws and policies, yes, but that seems to be because we have lost touch with what it is that makes us human, what we owe each other, and how we want to live with each other.

That search for understanding led me to reconnect with my United Church community. I found some inspiring leaders—Rev. Peter Short and Rev. Russ Daye—whose voices connected me to a different way of understanding faith. Our church is not looking as much for rules and rituals to follow to gain a reward after this life as much as we ask, “What kind of person am I becoming?” “How can I follow the example of Jesus and make this life resemble the Kingdom?” Then I had a chance to act as a worship leader, filling in for Rev. Russ a few times. It's a different kind of public service, but I’m interested in how I might help others find the joy I find in contemplation and mindful action. So many people have a spiritual yearning but have only heard a certain kind of loud voice telling them what a Christian journey needs to look like. AST has a record of strengthening a different kind of spiritual voice. Maybe I can learn more about that here.

How does your theological study intersect with your work in law, public discourse, or stand-up comedy?

I’m a Matthew 25:40 Christian. I’ve always been inspired by Jesus fulfilling the promise of the Bible’s story by giving us a way to live that is founded on loving God and our neighbour—which seems to be really one concept, not two—and acting to see the image of God in “the least of these.” My day job now as an advocate is something I’m blessed to do. The job exists because the Legislature charges an individual with thinking about communities whose voices get silenced, holding government to account for how they treat those without power, and advising the elected representatives and the public when we are letting them down. The reports that have been the most impactful in my work—insisting on better help for children in care, ensuring equal chances to learn for children with disabilities, protecting the rights of trans kids, and making sure seniors in long-term care get seen and lifted up—I think these have been effective because I am free to use a kind of prophetic voice, to speak freely and honestly about the gap between what is and what ought to be. I contemplate with care, and then I try to act justly. I hope that my faith journey will also be a form of that, and my time at AST is part of the contemplation that proceeds action.

What has been the most meaningful or surprising part of your AST experience so far?

So far? That I’m here. A year ago I would not have foreseen doing this. It remains a bit mysterious to me why, after 55 years on the planet, I suddenly felt this profound connection with the sweep of the Bible and the joy of contemplating it. The right mentor, the disorder of the time, and the rewards of my day job—they are all part of it, I’m sure. Becoming a father for the fourth time at age 53 may be part of it as well. There’s an intensity to my wonder about where the world is going. In the end, though, the answer to “Why now?” remains a bit mysterious to me. But it seems that AST is a good kind of place to contemplate a mystery or two, doesn't it?

They say humour requires a lot of truth-telling—do you find any surprising overlap between comedy and theology?

A lot! Humour is fundamentally created by dissonance—we laugh when there is a gap between what is expected and what happens. The use of a word’s alternate meaning, a character getting a different result than they expected, and a mix of serious settings with a flippant comment—these are all classic comedy tropes. When Mitch Hedberg opened a show with that line, “I used to use drugs; I mean, I use drugs. But I used to, too,” the reason we laugh spontaneously is that dissonant crash of the twist of the third line into the expectations of the first.

Some of the greatest comedians—George Carlin, Richard Pryor, and Lenny Bruce—their social commentary explored a kind of societal dissonance between what is and what should be. They set out what we say we are—what the leaders of empire tell us we are—and then crash the reality of what we are into that. The language of social protest—the gap between the claim we make on justice and the reality of the unfairness we tolerate—is also the language of humour and satire. Comedy is truth, crashed into delusion at 200 miles an hour. The collision is where the laugh lies. There’s a reason Trump hates comedians because no one hurls truth through your fragile delusions harder than a skilled comic. When Bono sings, “Laughter is the evidence of freedom,” I think that’s the freedom that humour gives us.

So, I guess, to bring that full circle back to theology, truth shatters our piety every day.  In a lot of ways, I see a certain guerrilla theatre quality in the New Testament. Jesus encounters settled norms, these scenes of smug satisfaction with the order of empire.  And Jesus explodes that in holy disorder. He sees a ritual, and he flips tables. He hurls truth into delusion, over and over.

Plus, at the risk of being blasphemous, Jesus was seriously gifted in the ways of comedy. When He sees an emperor going around with entourages and chariots, and He arranges to come in riding a donkey, that’s some great dissonance. In Luke 4:20, when He reads the words of Isaiah’s prophecy but then, when everyone would know that the reference to God’s vengeance comes next, and Jesus just rolls up the scroll and walks away, that is an all-time great comedic move. I also love that after He brings Jarius’s daughter back to life, the first instruction he gives is to get her food. Like, think about the excitement and wonder and chaos that is breaking out right then. This miracle unfolds; they all look to Jesus for what to do next, and he basically says, “Maybe get her a nice plate?” That’s masterful tension breaking. Dissonance was a gift from Jesus, too.

How do you plan to balance your graduate studies with your active work as a lawyer, political consultant, and performer?

You know the movie “Shakespeare in Love”? Near the end, when chaos is loose and the theatre has a hundred storylines colliding all around it right as the play is about to start, the theatre director turns to Shakespeare and says, “Don't worry. It will all work out.” Shakespeare practically hollers back... “How? How will THIS all work out?!” And the director really thinks for a second. Then he says, “I don't know. But it always does.”  In my acting days, every production seemed implausible when the curtain went up. But you do it, and it does work out. I’ve always used that as my mantra. Are any of us ever truly ready to have a child, or march on stage and talk, or create something? Life’s short. Curtains rise. Deadlines come. It all works out. 

What advice would you give to someone considering studying theology later in their career or life?

My advice to anyone considering studying anything is to do it! When I first taught at STU, a colleague told me about counselling a student who was thinking of starting a degree later in life. She said, “But in four years, I'll be 47!” He replied, “In four years you’ll be 47 if you don't come here, too. You’ll just be 47 without a History degree."

The mathematician Kurt Gödel believed in an afterlife because he believed that it would be fundamentally irrational for us to spend a life learning and then for it to all vanish, and the universe is always rational even when the reasons aren’t yet learned. Philosophy, math, science, and theology—they are all expressions of faith that a higher truth exists and we just have to reason our way there. A corollary to that, then, is that our curiosity is a necessary part of our consciousness, and our consciousness is what is eternal. So, if any part of you yearns for eternal consciousness, you have to keep accepting the gift of curiosity. AST is where I’ve chosen to show up and claim the gift of curiosity and to thank God for the grace of that unearned gift.