Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, February 28, 1994                   TAG: 9402280067
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: C-4   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: Associated Press
DATELINE: HAMPTON                                LENGTH: Medium

THIS PRIEST HAS A THREE-RING MINISTRY THESE CIRCUS PERFORMERS DO HAVE A PRAYER

For now, he'll settle on praying for it.

Tetrault, a Episcopal priest at historic Bruton Parish Church in colonial-era Williamsburg, is also one of two chaplains who volunteer to minister to the clowns, dancers and animal trainers who travel with the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus.

He shares those duties with a Boston priest. They take turns visiting their congregation as often as they can. Tetrault said eventually he wants to take a two-year sabbatical to travel full-time with Ringling and study circus ministry.

Most of his "ministry of presence" involves just being there for a unique congregation, Tetrault said.

That makes aerialist Laura Weiss feel better when she's hanging 20 feet above the ground without a net.

"It's nice to know that certain people are around at all times," she said.

As a show at the Hampton Coliseum ended Saturday afternoon with blast of cannons, Tetrault prepared for a service for the performers. From a gym bag, he pulled out the necessities for the Holy Eucharist: a pair of white candles, a purple cloth, Communion wafers and a plastic shampoo bottle filled with wine. He arranged the items on a table in the front of the room.

Despite the stripped-down setting, the service followed the same rituals as one held in a cathedral. About a dozen parishioners read from Genesis and recited The Nicene Creed. They opened their mouths to receive consecrated bread.

"Peace be with you," said Tetrault as he raised his arms above those gathered at the makeshift sanctuary. "And may all your days be circus days."

Tetrault's fascination with the circus began nearly 50 years ago, when the Clyde Beatty company pulled into Kankakee, Ill. He marveled as the circus workers magically transformed a fairground into a tented city filled with lions and tigers.

"I had never seen anything like it before," he said.

Tetrault learned to clown, tell stories and play the calliope, the organ-like instrument that plays festive carnival-style music. After being ordained, he occasionally incorporated juggling into his Sunday sermons.

Tetrault even wrote his dissertation on how circus acts illustrate different aspects of life. Trapeze artists demonstrate how dependent people are on one another, he said. Jugglers have so much to handle that they just start tossing things into the air.

"That helps me understand how God creates things," he said.