Level Up with Ed and Jesus

By Traci Hubbard

Ed Sullivan didn’t just run a variety show; he practically moonlighted as St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, only with less flowing robes and a lot more awkward silences. If there was a passport to paradise, it probably looked like an Ed Sullivan guest pass—with your name scribbled on it and a reminder not to trip over the microphone.

Every Sunday, on CBS, Canadian and American families gathered around their TV sets as if tuning in to a holy broadcast, awaiting Ed’s classic introduction. With all the solemness of a priest and just a touch of nervous energy, Ed kicked off the festivities, transforming living rooms into sanctuaries of surprise—a place where unpredictable acts and oddball performers were welcomed like prodigal sons. “Tonight, we have a really big shew,” he’d say, inventing words and rewriting the liturgy of prime time as he went.

If the Divine is inclusive, Ed’s stage was its comedy club annex. He welcomed artists of every stripe—musicians, comedians, and ventriloquists whose puppets had better punchlines than most politicians. There was no velvet rope, and definitely no bouncer with a clipboard. Ed’s screening process was simple: could you make people gasp, laugh, or at least wonder how on earth you got on TV? Sponsors occasionally fainted, censors reached for smelling salts, but Ed only smiled and gestured for the next act—ready to roll out the red carpet, or at least a very well-vacuumed rug.

If a miracle is defined as “something you never thought you’d see,” Ed delivered weekly. He introduced The Beatles to America, causing more teenage shrieks than a haunted house in October. Elvis wiggled and parents fretted, but Ed knew a little controversy was good for ratings. The plate-spinners spun, the animal acts occasionally escaped, and every now and then, a magician performed a trick that left Ed looking as mystified as everyone else. One memorable night, a juggler dropped his pins—and Ed, with the timing of a seasoned comic, quipped, “Well, that’s one way to clear the stage!”

Ed’s real magic lay in his gentle, sometimes bumbling introductions. He treated everyone—from highbrow opera singers to tap-dancing dogs—with the same earnest respect, and often, the same slightly bewildered expression. Watching Ed interact with a ventriloquist’s dummy or try to pronounce the name of a Lithuanian accordion band was pure comedic gold. As you have observed I am a bit of an Archie Bunker in the way that I will use a wrong word, that sounds almost identical with the right word, or my speech impediment will cause me to trip over my tongue like an elephant jumps when she sees a mouse. I shared with the Search Team that I weave humor into conversations and reflections every chance I can because when people are laughing, they are listening. For me, kind humor is holy, it is healing, it is a powerful thread that can create deep connections. Through Ed, we learned that laughter was its own kind of grace, especially when delivered by a rubber chicken. Ed was an unlikely Minister of Grace under pressure.

Last Thursday, Elaine and Rachel dropped by the office and Rachel wanted to know why I was there. I will paraphrase our conversation. I told her I was researching and working on my reflection. “But why” she asked. I replied, “Because it takes a lot of time to read, and think, and write, so I come to my office.” “Why do you have an office?

“So, people can come and see me.”

“Why do people want to come and see you?”

“Because they need to talk about things they need to heal, and I care about them. I want to listen and walk with them.”

“Why do you walk with them?”

“Because that’s what everyone needs, a person who cares to spend time with them wherever they are.”

“But why?”

Elaine interrupted and told Rachel it was time to go, and I offered them a truffle from my chocolate bowl in my office. As they walked out the door, Rachel turned around and asked, “Why are you staying?”

I replied, “Because I am at work.”

To which she replied, “You work here!” She seemed surprised, and to tell you the truth, I am often surprised I am here by the selection of the Holy and by your wisdom, grace, and an obvious affinity for humor. The Spirit used Rachel’s wise curiosity to reaffirm that we need to be sure of our “WHY” as we vision together.

Dreams become reality much easier when they are accompanied by a laugh track, and a common rail of inclusivity and diversity. Breaking social barriers was one of Jesus’ specialties stemming from his deep desire to help people connect with themselves, connect with community, and especially, connect with mysterious evolutionary LOVE.

Ed’s show wasn’t just about breaking social barriers—it was about breaking the tension, too. He turned awkward moments into endearing ones and let the audience in on the universal joke: we’re all a little weird, and that’s what makes us heavenly. In his world, a misplaced prop or a missed cue wasn’t a disaster—it was a gift to the viewers, proof that the Kin-dom of Heaven is sometimes a little silly. CBS instructed Ed to not get “too close to Negroes” and absolutely do not shake hands with Heavyweight Champion Joe Lewis. Like the Pharisees told Jesus that healing a person on the Sabbath was blasphemous, Jesus used every human opportunity to be LOVE to anyone, on any day, in any moment, and so did Ed.

Bill Robinson, Mr. Bo Jangles, was the first entertainer who opened for the first Ed Sullivan Show. When he died penniless, Ed made sure Bo Jangles had a funeral that reflected how his heart and his art had positively changed the soul of society, causing a social evolution resulting in a revolution with tens of thousands lining the streets of Harlem to pay respect and honor Bill as his casket was slowly lead through the streets. FYI, the crowds can be seen in the Ed Sullivan Documentary, and they were not created by AI, they were real and much larger than the crowd who gathered for a man who threw a tax paid muti-million dollar party and parade for his birthday. Ed welcomed Harry Belafonte on his show and Harry’s presence, his energy and song, pushed through Southern America’s authoritarian and discrimination lines, bringing pride back to the red, white, and blue by opening the door to desegregation.

From the pits of human fear and ugliness, to the joyful sound of Gladys Knight and The Pips, like Jesus, Ed stood firm in love, firm in inclusivity, and grew stronger as hangings such as Emmit Tipps and the events like the attack of Nat King Cole while on stage continued. Ed brought segregated audiences together, with effects such as Nat King Cole receiving a fifteen-minute standing ovation by the crowd who witnessed his attack. Listening, loving, living with empathy, and touching another person many would not touch, this is how Ed and Jesus changed the world…one Michael Jackson, Louis Armstrong, Elvis Presley hug at a time.

Jesus connects the words a person speaks with the condition of their heart, stating that "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks". Ed said, “The power of simple words is of tremendous importance in the ideological clash,” and folks, we are in a social, political, and environmental clash for the ages. As we vision together, one thing I want us to understand is that we need to be the gate keepers of joy, swinging our gate wide open with holy contagious hilarious serious energy and simple words. As we push our best selves, our inner secret gardens with the Sacred out into Lake Country, the Spirit will send our energy out from within, and people who are tired of chasing rabbits down life draining holes, will become curiouser and curiouser, like Alice in Wonderland.  Right now, we are learning what we need for our tea party.

Ed Sullivan may not have sported angel wings, but he presided over a congregation of dreamers, believers, and an occasional juggler with questionable aim. His stage was an altar of possibility—and unpredictability—where people came together not only to be amazed, but to share a laugh. Through humor, inclusivity, and a variety show that never took itself too seriously, Ed Sullivan brought the kingdom of heaven a little closer to earth—one unforgettable act and one “really big shew” at a time.

Every Sunday Service, for lack of a better description, is a production of love and grace that begins with listening, questioning, researching, looking for images that reflect the theme, music that supports the message, and patience…a whole lot of humor and patience. Sharon often says with a giggle, “Yes, I received your Order of Service…but I’m waiting for the real one.” She’s learned that I am seldom finished drafting on Monday, and when we meet to go over the PowerPoint on Thursday, most likely I will change something. Standing on this chancel every Sunday is a huge responsibility requiring acute self-awareness so I may be intuitively aware of your diverse energy and body language. None of us listen the same or react with the same facial expressions or leaning in that communicates to me that my words, and the way I deliver them, are finding landing spaces in your hearts and minds. I want my words, my energy, to comfort you, encourage you, inspire or calm you, cause you to imagine, to connect, to wander and wonder and to continue to spiritually evolve. It’s the Spirit’s job to convict when we need to be spiritually tazed and awakened. But when we laugh together, we open the gates of holy endorphins wide and in those common rail moments, we are experiencing the same beautiful joy found in being together.

Folks, we are on a community stage in this time, a stage created by the Holy, and supported by the extravagant offerings of your time, talents, and treasures. May we do more than produce a “really big shew.” May we dare to show the heart of Eternal Love through the shocking, loving, courageous and inclusive ways of Ed and Jesus who leveled up the margins and brought new life where despair and hate thrived. And if we dare, we might just change the channel for ourselves, for our families, and for Lake Country. All we need to do is stay connected to the sweet antenna of LOVE and listen and dance on the sunny side of the street. May it be so. Amen. Is this where I drop the mic? Just kidding.

Play video clip: Nat King Cole & Tony Martin "On The Sunny Side Of The Street" on The Ed Sullivan Show