Circus Chaplain Barry Fletcher says elephants will always be his favourite circus animals.

In 1987, Barry Fletcher ran away with the circus. And he took his family – his wife and three pre-adolescent children – with him. He wasn’t there to be an acrobat or a lion tamer. Barry became a circus chaplain.

Circus people have had a bad rap, according to Barry. “People used to run away to the circus,” he says. “Whether they had drug or alcohol or marriage problems, they’d run away and hope that would fix their problems.”

“People in the circus were classed as gypsys, they had a bad reputation – wanderers. But once people knew the circus had a chaplain, I think that changed.”

Barry and his family travelled around Australia for 12 years with circus companies including Sole Brothers, Lennon Brothers and Ashtons. It was the Ashton Circus who invited the Fletchers to travel full time with the company.

“Circus people can be religious, just like anybody. But because of their itinerant lifestyle, they could very rarely get to church. The whole idea of the chaplaincy was for me to be available when they were.”

Life with the circus produced so many stories for Barry and his family, he barely knows where to start.

“We were around when there was an accident with a young boy, who lost an arm – eaten off by a tiger. He survived and he’s representing Australia now swimming in the Paralympics. There’s been trapeze artists who fell and were badly injured – we’ve seen a lot.”

Barry tells the story of a tiger handler struggling with alcohol and family problems.

“One day, he got a letter from his kids, saying they hated him. He got drunk and locked himself in the tiger enclosure with the tigers. He wasn’t hurt – we coaxed him out. And I was with him as he got help for his alcohol problems, in a rehabilitation clinic. He ended up reconciling with his family.”

The heart of the circus – the Big Top – has seen just as much as Barry has. Under the Big Top, Barry has conducted weddings and funerals, birthday parties and baptisms.

“I married a tiger handler to a horse groom – that was an experience!” Barry recalls. “The tiger handler wanted to get married in the tiger cage, but we couldn’t do that. So the Big Top it was.”

It was with the Ashton Circus that Barry established ‘Church under the Big Top’. He was already conducting a Sunday School for the children travelling with the circus, so a full church service seemed the next step. The first church service was in partnership with Charlestown Baptist Church, near Newcastle on the New South Wales’ central coast.

“We had 650 people there! Mrs Ashton was dumbfounded by how many people would want to a dirty old circus tent to go to church. It had rained for three weeks – it was slushy and dirty. But it was good!” says Barry.

To date, Barry estimates he’s held around 1800 church services ‘under the Big Top’ all around Australia. The biggest service had over 1500 people attend in Redcliffe in Queensland.

Church services under the big top were available to any church from any denomination. Barry would contact churches on their travelling route to see if they wanted to run a service while the circus was in town. The home church provided the music and oftentimes their minister would preach. Barry would get a spot to tell people about his circus ministry during the service. He says he was always overwhelmed by the support he received.

“We were funded through the circus, but we had jobs to do for our keep too. I’d collect tickets at the door. My wife worked in the canteen. And we were supported by Christians in the community too. We’d rock into a town and speak to the local newspaper. And we’ve have Christians come around to the circus and find our caravan, bring us food, ask whether we’d like to present our work to their congregations. It’s how we survived.”

After travelling for 12 years with the circus, it’s no surprise that Barry’s two sons, Chris and Graham became circus people themselves – working as clowns, comedy flyers and aerialists. A love of the circus is something that permeates when listening to Barry talk.

“It’s been good, it’s a wonderful ministry. Circus people are no different to anyone else. They need to hear the word of God.”

Some of Barry’s favourite circus acts – whipcracking, trick riders (swinging up and around off the saddle of a horse) and even the big cats and elephants – are becoming less and less typical for the modern circus.

The number of people involved in circuses around Australia is also now a moving target, though Barry estimates the number of people he’s responsible for as ‘circus chaplain’ to be about 36,000 people. And while reports suggest traditional circus acts with exotic animals are dwindling, ‘circus’ acts including trapeze, acrobatics and other death-defying feats in human form are certainly still popular (think: Cirque du Soleil). There’s even a National Institute of Circus Arts, run out of Victoria’s Swinburne University of Technology and reporting increasing interest in circus skill training.

So there’s still work for a circus chaplain, though travelling with the circus is not something Barry does anymore. Based in Victoria, he manages to get around to most of the circuses that visit the state, and he says he’s welcomed in to the mix and speaks with many of the circus people about life and faith. Barry’s getting on in years is praying for the right person to take over his ministry.

“Hopefully somebody will come along, who loves God, loves people, loves travelling and loves the circus.”

Barry suffered a stroke about five years ago. He’s lost some of short-term memory and his longer-term memory is also patchy, but Barry says he’s “luckier than most”.

“God has really blessed us. I praise God for putting us in the best ministry with the best church in the world. It might be a smelly circus tent – but I think it’s beautiful.”