Nazareth’s Comedy has reached millions on television broadcasts as varied on Comedy Central, The 700 Club, and the NBC Nightly News. He's toured with the Temptations and the Righteous Brothers with his act that appeal to all ages. Churches number among Nazareth’s favorite venues. Tough audience? No problem – Nazareth has entertained congressmen, IRS agents, death-row inmates, and leaders of America’s top corporations.

But behind Nazareth’s smashing success as one of America’s foremost “clean” comics is the saga of a scared, Middle Eastern kid. Raised in a strict but decidedly un-devout Christian home, as a young adult he found himself alone in America, where his heritage and identity clashed with the almost-anything-goes society.

Nazareth – yes, that's his real name – was born the youngest of three brothers in Jesus' hometown. But in Nazareth’s family, Jesus was just a famous guy from history whose house you went to on big holidays. Like his ancestors for generations before him, his parents were born into to an ancient Christian denomination called Greek Orthodox. Neither Nazareth’s mom nor dad liked Mass, so the family only attended when they figured they were supposed to. “I went to church on Christmas and Easter,” Nazareth says, “but it all sounded Greek to me.”

Nazareth’s parents wanted him to find a better life. So, in 1984 they sent Nazareth to college in Toledo to study engineering. To his mom that sounded safer than New York or California. But unlike Kuwait, even in docile-sounding Ohio Nazareth found no real restrictions on behavior. People did whatever they wanted.

On a lark Nazareth showed up at a California comedy club for open-mic night. At midnight he took the stage before a crowd of nine drunks. “They laughed so hard. One of them fell off his chair laughing,” Nazareth recollects. “I got hooked.”

So, the next day, he hit the Comedy Store's open-mic night. Within a few months, Nazareth was performing regularly at venues in Hollywood. For three years he worked almost daily at clubs around California, Arizona and Washington, including the nation's top comedy club, The Improv.

“I lived off the high of crowds cheering for me, hanging with the beautiful people and living a dream,” Nazareth says. “But my heart was totally empty. Success meant nothing. Unlike in the Middle East, I was free to do anything I wanted. But something was missing, and I wasn't free at all.

The turning point came when Nazareth met Yamo, a clean Japanese American comic who didn't smoke or drink. And his jokes weren't vulgar yet still were fall-out-of-your-chair funny.

“Yamo was nothing like my other friends,” Nazareth says. “And he invited me to go to church.”

“God was after me. I couldn't escape.”

Nazareth figured he'd cancel the few gigs he'd booked and quit comedy forever. How could he possibly do that vulgar show now that he'd found Jesus? But his pastor talked him into performing at the church. Overnight Nazareth cleaned up his act. He found himself once again before hundreds in a roaring crowd. God spoke to his heart that night with clear direction: Do comedy for Him.

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Nazareth, who's now a citizen, is proud to be American. But most of all, comedy opens even the toughest audiences to hear the Good News that transformed his life. His new book, Hope in 24 Hours, endorsed by Josh McDowell, is an inspiration to people of all ages.

Beyond the stage, Nazareth and his wife, Maha and their three young children live in Southern California.