From swimsuit competition glamour to parish pulpit clamor

Beauty queen is now a pastor

The Rev. Nicole Lamarche, after some initial skepticism from the congregation, has won over the parishioners of Cotuit Federated Church. Her past as a beauty pageant contestant caused quite a stir when she took over as pastor two years ago. (Globe Staff Photo / John Bohn)

COTUIT - On a recent Sunday morning, 30-year-old Nicole Lamarche, a former Miss California, stood before a crowd in a simple clapboard church next to a local watering hole. She wore high-heeled boots, her thin figure draped in a black robe.

"I feel so lucky to be your pastor," she proclaimed.

Lamarche became minister of Cotuit Federated Church two years ago, shaking up its stodgy routine and causing quite a stir in this quiet Cape Cod village of about 2,600 year-round residents.

She says four parishioners defected early on, after people Googled her name and discovered her beauty pageant past, but these days residents credit Lamarche with injecting new dynamism into the town and the church.

Lamarche says she understands that for some the "pastor in a swimsuit thing" is hard to swallow, but she simply needed the money. Loyal members of her congregation accept her explanation, buoying her spirits. Plus, says Lamarche, "If you can walk on a stage in your swimsuit, you can do anything."

After a service earlier this year, the congregation gathered for coffee, fruit salad, and cookies in an adjoining reception room, chattering with each other and the pastor who was once Miss Desert Vista.

"Just listen to it," said Pam Bode, a member of the church since 1985. "This is a church that has come alive."

"She's good for God," agreed Norman Knight, a 79-year-old retired welder, one of about a hundred regular members of the church who now attend weekly.

The path from beauty-pageant winner to pastor has not always been smooth. Lamarche grew up going to church near her hometown of Chattaroy, Wash., and joined a campus ministry group when she started college at the University of Arizona. An international relations major, she planned to join the foreign service after graduation.

The minister at her church suggested she consider seminary school instead. She had her doubts, but agreed to attend a "ministry as vocation" weekend at the Pacific School of Religion in California after the minister offered to pay her airfare to Berkeley. She enrolled and started the following year.

But Lamarche needed money, she recalled, and she was drawn to scholarship prizes she heard about in pageant competition.

Her first attempt was for the Miss Tucson title in 2000. Things did not go well. Recently returned from a backpacking trip around Europe, she had what she describes as "a short German haircut."

She cried onstage during the swimsuit competition and wore an old prom dress for the evening wear portion. She walked away empty-handed.

But in 2001, she became Miss Desert Vista, coming in first runner-up for Miss Arizona later that year.

When she moved to California that summer for seminary school, she thought her pageant days were behind her. But the mother of the 1998 Miss California winner found Lamarche on an online message board and convinced her to compete.

She won a succession of titles - Miss Greater Bay Area and Miss San Francisco - before becoming Miss California in 2003.

That brought her to the Miss America pageant, a new level of competition. The stakes were higher: over $50,000 in scholarships.

And it meant going on stage in a swimsuit in front of 12 million people. Lamarche was overwhelmed by the tricks contestants from some of the Southern states introduced her to - like spraying glue on butt cheeks to keep swimsuits in place and wrapping moisturized legs in plastic wrap to reduce cellulite - but went on to win the swimsuit competition and came in fourth runner-up overall, earning herself $24,000 in prize money.

The seminary school website racked up the most hits in its history because of a link from ESPN's site, which covered the event.

When the Cotuit church's search committee found Lamarche to replace its retiring pastor, some members were not so sure it was a good decision. Young, single female pastors are often viewed as risky and unpredictable.

This made her first six months in Cotuit tough. She received complaints from the congregation, sometimes that the service was too short, sometimes too long.

But over time, things improved. Church members were willing to try new things, like worshipping on the beach during the summer or inviting a speaker to lecture on the difference between Sunni and Shia Islam.

Lamarche, who sang Billy Vera & the Beaters's song "At This Moment" for the talent portion of the Miss America competition, has also incorporated more music into church services.

When she got married last summer in California, to a man she met in seminary school, the church threw them a reception in Cotuit, renting a tent from a local museum and shucking clams and oysters for a meal. There was singing and a blessing.

On a recent Sunday morning, the smell of maple syrup from an early-morning pancake breakfast filled the church. Young girls handed out programs at the entrance.

And Lamarche, just back from a belated honeymoon in Morocco, greeted everyone by name before asking for any special requests for prayers.

A woman raised her hand to tell her about two of her friends fighting breast cancer. A man asked for a blessing for his daughter who had recently given birth to a healthy baby boy. And a girl asked everyone to pray for a friend who had just been in a car accident.

"I bring my kids, who are 9 and 14, and my 77-year-old mother, and we all find something in this church," says Leslie Shinn, 45, a public school aide who first came to the church in 1990. Her husband initially had reservations about the new young pastor, but eventually joined the church and even became a trustee.

"She exudes goodness," Shinn said.