Blog Post

How My Comedy Class was like Church

Rev. Brenna • Nov 08, 2017

                     This past summer, I got the urge to try something new and different. I occasionally find myself needing a creative outlet and space where I don’t have to be “the minister”. Having gone to a show in the spring at the famous Second City in Toronto, an idea came to mind. What if I took a stand-up comedy class? “I’m funny. I could do that!” I thought. I have also always been drawn to the lives of comedians and their proclivity for highlighting some of the most beautiful and painful aspects of the human condition. (As an aside, if you haven’t read Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up, check it out.) So I signed up and then immediately subjected my spouse to weeks of, “Ooh…I could do a bit on this! or that!” He was patient and polite, as always, reminding me that I didn’t have to prepare ahead of time. That’s what the class was for.             Our class turned out to be quite a diverse mix. Ages ranged from early twenties to mid-fifties. We were atheists and Christians, retired principals and magicians, people who wanted to do this professionally and those who just wanted people to laugh at them (in the good way). Some of us were new to Canada, one of us was legally blind, and all of immediately wondered if we had made a mistake during our first class.             After a shy beginning, though, we found ourselves opening up to one another in the subsequent classes, getting braver and more vulnerable. Our goal: write and perform one 5-minute set for an audience of friends and family. While it seemed impossible at the start, miraculously, we all made it.             Leaving a bittersweet final class and celebratory dinner with my classmates, I’ve been reflecting on what this type of experience might have to teach the church. Here are some ways this class felt like church to me: A sense of community was formed around a shared passion – not familial or even geographic lines, not ethnic or cultural lines. We all just loved laughing and making people laugh. We were open and honest with one another. I heard and shared things in our class that I have never heard or shared in church in such an open way. The class, in crafting jokes and building their sets, shared about challenges with mental health, relationships, identity and former run-ins with the law. Now, this kind of vulnerability was possible in large part because these folks were awesome, generous, open-minded people, and our teacher gave lots of attention and time to everyone. But it made me wonder why these sorts of struggles aren’t often shared so openly in church communities. Why do we feel they must be relegated to whispers only in the minister’s office? Why do we feel we must always bring our best selves to church? In our class,we trusted one another, complete strangers, with our sense of shortcomings and regrets. How can we do that more in church? We took risks and created something new. The most fascinating part of this process to me was watching everyone’s process – going from maybe one, somewhat wonky, joke at the beginning of our class to a full, hilarious, set. This took being willing to bring in some real comedic garbage – jokes that just didn’t work. It took the ability to risk failing, and to be able to say, “Okay, this joke is kind of working, but something is off. Can you help?” and then listening to one another offer feedback.                                                                                     In the church, we can often limit ourselves by being afraid of failure, or giving up on something when it doesn’t work perfectly the first time. Great comedians have a way of making their jokes seem effortless – as if they’re just coming up with them on the spot. The reality, though, is those jokes take years of practice and tweaking to get just right. They take years of listening to the audience for feedback and guidance. Perhaps we need to see ministry as more of a creative endeavour, worth the risks and time it takes to get right.             Of course, in a lot of ways, the class was not like church. For one, aside from being brought together by a shared passion, we were also brought together by a shared ability to pay for the class. Also, there was no outreach involved in our time together, and in fact, we recognized the selfishness of comedy - the “audacity” of it as our instructor, Todd, would say to demand that people listen to me and let me try to make them laugh. So the metaphor does fall short.             Still, I am so grateful for this class – for the friends I’ve made, and ways I was challenged. Who knows? I may even attempt some open mics in the not too distant future. Whether or not I do, I hope to infuse ministry and our life together at Erindale with some of the passion, creativity, vulnerability and laughter I picked up in my class. We may not always get everything right all the time, but as Steve Martin says, “Thankfully, persistence is a great substitute for talent.”   -Rev. Brenna Baker

           This past summer, I got the urge to try something new and different. I occasionally find myself needing a creative outlet and space where I don’t have to be “the minister”. Having gone to a show in the spring at the famous Second City in Toronto, an idea came to mind. What if I took a stand-up comedy class? “I’m funny. I could do that!” I thought. I have also always been drawn to the lives of comedians and their proclivity for highlighting some of the most beautiful and painful aspects of the human condition. (As an aside, if you haven’t read Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up, check it out.) So I signed up and then immediately subjected my spouse to weeks of, “Ooh…I could do a bit on this! or that!” He was patient and polite, as always, reminding me that I didn’t have to prepare ahead of time. That’s what the class was for.

            Our class turned out to be quite a diverse mix. Ages ranged from early twenties to mid-fifties. We were atheists and Christians, retired principals and magicians, people who wanted to do this professionally and those who just wanted people to laugh at them (in the good way). Some of us were new to Canada, one of us was legally blind, and all of immediately wondered if we had made a mistake during our first class.

            After a shy beginning, though, we found ourselves opening up to one another in the subsequent classes, getting braver and more vulnerable. Our goal: write and perform one 5-minute set for an audience of friends and family. While it seemed impossible at the start, miraculously, we all made it.

            Leaving a bittersweet final class and celebratory dinner with my classmates, I’ve been reflecting on what this type of experience might have to teach the church. Here are some ways this class felt like church to me:

  • A sense of community was formed around a shared passion – not familial or even geographic lines, not ethnic or cultural lines. We all just loved laughing and making people laugh.
  • We were open and honest with one another. I heard and shared things in our class that I have never heard or shared in church in such an open way. The class, in crafting jokes and building their sets, shared about challenges with mental health, relationships, identity and former run-ins with the law. Now, this kind of vulnerability was possible in large part because these folks were awesome, generous, open-minded people, and our teacher gave lots of attention and time to everyone. But it made me wonder why these sorts of struggles aren’t often shared so openly in church communities. Why do we feel they must be relegated to whispers only in the minister’s office? Why do we feel we must always bring our best selves to church? In our class,we trusted one another, complete strangers, with our sense of shortcomings and regrets. How can we do that more in church?
  • We took risks and created something new. The most fascinating part of this process to me was watching everyone’s process – going from maybe one, somewhat wonky, joke at the beginning of our class to a full, hilarious, set. This took being willing to bring in some real comedic garbage – jokes that just didn’t work. It took the ability to risk failing, and to be able to say, “Okay, this joke is kind of working, but something is off. Can you help?” and then listening to one another offer feedback.                                                                                     In the church, we can often limit ourselves by being afraid of failure, or giving up on something when it doesn’t work perfectly the first time. Great comedians have a way of making their jokes seem effortless – as if they’re just coming up with them on the spot. The reality, though, is those jokes take years of practice and tweaking to get just right. They take years of listening to the audience for feedback and guidance. Perhaps we need to see ministry as more of a creative endeavour, worth the risks and time it takes to get right.

            Of course, in a lot of ways, the class was not like church. For one, aside from being brought together by a shared passion, we were also brought together by a shared ability to pay for the class. Also, there was no outreach involved in our time together, and in fact, we recognized the selfishness of comedy - the “audacity” of it as our instructor, Todd, would say to demand that people listen to me and let me try to make them laugh. So the metaphor does fall short.

            Still, I am so grateful for this class – for the friends I’ve made, and ways I was challenged. Who knows? I may even attempt some open mics in the not too distant future. Whether or not I do, I hope to infuse ministry and our life together at Erindale with some of the passion, creativity, vulnerability and laughter I picked up in my class. We may not always get everything right all the time, but as Steve Martin says, “Thankfully, persistence is a great substitute for talent.”

 

-Rev. Brenna Baker

By Brenna Baker 30 Mar, 2020
Sunday, April 5 marks the beginning of Holy Week for Christians around the world. Yet, it will be a Holy Week unlike any we have experienced in our lifetimes. Still, while we won’t be waving palm branches on Sunday or singing, “Were you there” on Friday, the story has the power to comfort and challenge us – perhaps more than ever before. For these questions, I’ll be mostly reflecting on Matthew 21:1-11, but you may want to read past that to consider the holy week stories as a whole. Reading can be found here. 1. Matthew’s account of the parade and procession of palms emphasizes Jesus’ role as King. The crowds were imagining a very literal king who would overthrow Rome and sit on the throne of Israel as David had. The way they lay their branches and cloaks on the ground demonstrate this. But Jesus turns out to be a very different kind of ruler and leader. Who is Jesus for you? How has your image of Jesus the person changed or been challenged over time? 2. The disciples are asked by Jesus to do a risky thing, and something they don’t quite understand. They are asked to untie a donkey and colt, and to bring them to Jesus for the procession. If anyone asks what they’re doing, they’re to say, “The Lord needs them.” If I was one of those disciples, I would have been extremely uncomfortable with this request. What are the risky, uncomfortable things Jesus asks of us today? What gives us the courage to follow? 3. Richard Lischer offers a beautiful reflection on what Holy Week, and in particular, what Holy Saturday might mean for us in these Covid days. Read the article here . What are we waiting for this Holy Saturday? What do we hope will emerge from this time of isolation?
By Brenna Baker 24 Mar, 2020
Reading: Ezekiel 37:1-14 Can be read here. “Can these bones live?” Oh, Lord, you know. God asks Ezekiel if he believes the valley of bones before him can ever live and breathe again. Ezekiel is unsure. After seeing so much despair and destruction, and years of exile, he’s having a hard time finding hope for his people. “Oh, Lord, you know.” It might be a response many of us are returning to this week with our many questions. How long will we have to stay isolated? How many will die? How will this impact our families and communities? Will we be the same people once it’s all over? Oh, Lord, you know. Ezekiel is a long and complex book. For an entertaining and informative overview of it's context, you might want to watch this YouTube video. Reflection Questions 1. The bones, even stitched back together with flesh and sinews are not truly alive until God breathes life into them. What gives you that feeling of energy? How does God breathe new life into you? Perhaps exercise? Music? Travel? A new project? 2. Despite that last reflection question, this really is a passage about a whole people being brought to new life. The house of Israel will be restored by God. How do we need to be restored? As a church community? As a geographic community in the GTA? As humanity? How might Covid-19 change or impact this need for restoration? 3. Walter Wink writes of this text, “That is how history is made: by envisioning of new alternative possibilities and acting on them as if they were inevitable. That is how despair is overcome: by the declaration of unlikelihoods welling up from the center of reality, by prophesying a course of action Cod is conspiring to bring to pass.” How would we prophesy in these times of despair? What course of action is God conspiring to pass? Music Of course, none of us can read this passage without thinking of the “Dry Bones” song. Here’s a fun Fats Waller jazzy version to play as you reflect and pray this week. Quote above from "These Bones Shall Live" by Walter Wink. The Christian Century V ol. 111, Iss. 16, (May 11, 1994): 491.
By Brenna Baker 16 Mar, 2020
Read John 9:1-41 here. And read this article for a great overview of the text. Who can we blame? Whose fault is it? These are questions we may find ourselves asking in the days of the Covid-19 pandemic just as people asked in Jesus’ time. In John’s long story about a man born blind, healed by Jesus, the religious leaders and even Jesus disciples want to know who to blame – first for the man’s condition, and then for his healing. It can be hard for us as people to simply accept what is without judgment or blame. Yet, we learn in this text that Christ himself is about healing, not blame. He is about shedding light, and opening eyes to see, rather than adding to the chaos and confusion. Reflection Questions: Thinking of the current pandemic situation, where do you see blame being cast? The community here seems glad to dismiss their obligation to help the man by assuming his condition is due to sin. Are there times when we as a culture dismiss our obligation to love others because we believe they deserve their condition? The impoverished, addicted, mentally ill, etc? What about times in your personal life? When have you sought answers to a situation that was ultimately without a cause? How did you come to accept that reality? Can you think of a time in your life when you received much needed healing? Either physically, emotionally or spiritually? Or perhaps you need healing now. Take a moment to pray to God, thanking God for that time of healing and enlightenment or praying to experience healing. In this passage, Jesus makes one of his famous “I am” pronouncements. What does it mean to you that Jesus is the Light of the World? What should be our response to that identifier as his followers? Music: Here’s a fun, upbeat song to sing along to called “I am the Light of the World” – different than the one in our hymnals.
By Brenna Baker 16 Mar, 2020
Read John 9:1-41 here . And Read this article for a great overview of the text. Who can we blame? Whose fault is it? These are questions we may find ourselves asking in the days of the Covid-19 pandemic just as people asked in Jesus’ time. In John’s long story about a man born blind, healed by Jesus, the religious leaders and even Jesus disciples want to know who to blame – first for the man’s condition, and then for his healing. It can be hard for us as people to simply accept what is without judgment or blame. Yet, we learn in this text that Christ himself is about healing, not blame. He is about shedding light, and opening eyes to see, rather than adding to the chaos and confusion. Reflection Questions: Thinking of the current pandemic situation, where do you see blame being cast? The community here seems glad to dismiss their obligation to help the man by assuming his condition is due to sin. Are there times when we as a culture dismiss our obligation to love others because we believe they deserve their condition? The impoverished, addicted, mentally ill, etc? What about times in your personal life? When have you sought answers to a situation that was ultimately without a cause? How did you come to accept that reality? Can you think of a time in your life when you received much needed healing? Either physically, emotionally or spiritually? Or perhaps you need healing now. Take a moment to pray to God, thanking God for that time of healing and enlightenment or praying to experience healing. In this passage, Jesus makes one of his famous “I am” pronouncements. What does it mean to you that Jesus is the Light of the World? What should be our response to that identifier as his followers? Music: Here’s a fun, upbeat song to sing along to called “I am the Light of the World” (different than the one in our hymnals). Listen here .
By Brenna Baker 14 Aug, 2019
This Week Click here for the Bible text Our last text is the story of Zacchaeus. He is a bit of a unique character. Luke is the only gospel where his story pops up. For some context, Zacchaeus made his wealth as a tax collector, which meant that he taxed his own Jewish friends and neighbours, likely charging them additional fees, before sending the taxes on to Rome. As "Chief" tax collector, he might have been making money off of lesser tax collectors. To say he was unliked would be putting it mildly. He was seen as a traitor by his neighbours. Discussion Questions As with previous weeks, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What stands out to you about this text? 2. This artwork is a bit unique. The artist, Garrity, says in the journal (Page 16) how it's inspired by her interactions with her middle school art students. Do you think that's a fair metaphor? How would you visually represent this story? 3. What is unraveling in this story? With whom do you identify? Zacchaeus? The grumbling townspeople? Jesus? The silent disciples who we assume are accompanying Jesus? What about the members of Zacchaeus' household? 4. What does this text say to you about who God is? About who we are? Are these helpful ideas to you? 5. There is an interesting translation problem in this text. Verse 8 is most commonly translated as "“Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” But, it could also be translated in the present tense like this, "Look I give my half of my possessions to the poor, Lord; and if I defraud anyone of anything, I pay back four times as much." How does this change the meaning? Do you see Zacchaeus as a man transformed and converted by Jesus? Or potentially a misunderstood, but righteous person, whose ostracized because of his community's bias? Further Reading Justin Tse offers a rich and fascinating reflection on this story from his perspective as a Chinese-American Catholic, and the challenges of the concept of being a "model minority". Read more here . Next Week This is our final text in the Unraveled series. I hope it has helped you to see some familiar stories in a new way, and learn some new ones, while providing some touchstones for those times when our lives unravel. We will be talking about the second half of the texts in a study session on Tuesday, the 20th from 7-8:30pm in the McGill Room. Hope to see you then.
By Brenna Baker 07 Aug, 2019
A discussion on wisdom in Job 28:12-28
By Brenna Baker 24 Jul, 2019
This Week Click here for the Bible text Discussion Questions As with last week, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What surprises you about this story? 2. As you look at the artwork above and read the artist's statement on page 24 in your journal, what stands out to you? 3. What is unraveling in this story? What emotions come up for you in reading it and imagining the scene? 4. I like the third "Reflect" question in the journal: Throughout your life, what identities, beliefs, or practices have you shed? How has unraveling from former patterns and identities helped you to grow or become more whole? 5. Who are the real life Ananiases? Have you known people (maybe famous people, maybe people you know personally) who have been able to offer grace and healing to enemies? Further Reading This week's further reading is actually viewing. Click here to watch a Ted Talk from Christian Picciolini on his conversion from a white supremacist to an author and speaker who counters racism and hate. Next Week Next week and on August 11, we're diving into some Job and considering the idea of faithful wisdom.
By Brenna Baker 24 Jul, 2019
Threads from last week Rizpah's story was certainly a challenging one. Arlene raised that there is no easy way out of grief. That theme will pop up with the Job reading as well. Being faithful followers of Christ and obedient to God does not prevent suffering from entering our lives. The story for this week, though, invites us to consider whether and how we expect God to show up in the unraveling of our lives. This Week Click here for the Bible text Questions As with last week, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What surprises you about this story? 2. As you look at the artwork above and read the artist's statement on page 7 in your journal, what stands out to you? 3. What is unraveling in this story? What emotions come up for you in reading it and imagining the scene? 4. Traditionally, Peter's walking out on the water is celebrated as a risky act of faith. But notice that it starts with him testing Jesus as Satan and others do in the gospels. "If you are who you say you are, command me to come out on the water to you." What do you think? Is Peter being bold and faithful or foolhardy? 5. Jesus responds 3 times in this text to the crying out of the disciples. First, as the storm is threatening them, he shows up. Then, Peter asks him to invite him out onto the water, and he does. Then, as Peter cries out to be saved, Jesus reaches down to pull him out of the water. When have you been surprised by Jesus showing up in the storms of your life? 6. As a church, how might we respond to those who feel like the storms of life are overwhelming them? Further Reading Writer and minister, Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber, in her characteristic sarcasm and wit, offers a beautiful sermon on this story reminding us that it's not about what Peter or the others are doing, it's about what Jesus is doing. Read it here . Next Week For next Wednesday, while I'm on study leave and Mississagua Mennonite Fellowship leads worship, we'll look at the conversion of Saul to Paul text, which we read in worship in the spring.
By Brenna Baker 17 Jul, 2019
Threads from last week Reflecting on the comments from last week and our discussion last night at the face to face study time, I'm thinking about notions of control and release. At our meeting last night, we spoke briefly to what the plagues and Pharaoh's hard heart say about our control of the environment and its resources and how that is actually leading to less control in terms of climate change, disasters, etc. Might there be a way that unraveling is actually liberating? Secondly, I would note that these stories seem to be raising for us challenging notions of who God is. Is God a tough bully? A loving, grieving mother as we'll see today? A somewhat blunt, unfeeling visitor like the one that appeared to Sarah? All of these things? How do we make peace with these conflicting versions of God? A great thing for us to wrestle with! This Week Click here for the Bible text Questions As with last week, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What surprises you about this story? 2. As you look at the artwork above and read the artist's statement on page 11 in your journal, what stands out to you? Note, in this case the full image is not in the journal. It is shown above. 3. What is unraveling in this story? What emotions come up for you in reading it and imagining the scene? 4.How does the grief of others make us feel? Why might that be the case? 6. Are there times when you have found God in grief? Either your own grieving or the grieving of others? Further Reading Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote a poem entitled "Rizpah" that grapples with our Protestant notions of propriety, grief and salvation. The voice is not meant to be the Biblical Rizpah, but a more modern grieving mother. Click here to read. Next Week For next Wednesday, we'll be looking at “Peter Sinks in the Water" Matthew 14:22-33. This one might be more familiar to us than some of the others, which means the challenge is discovering something new.
By Brenna Baker 10 Jul, 2019
Threads from last week In some ways, I think the story from last week about Jesus healing the man with a "legion" of demons moves well into this one. Arlene wondered about our "community demons" and those things we try not to acknowledge. In this week's reading, Pharaoh's heart is hardened to the plight of the enslaved Israelites. When God turns the river into blood (the first of the ten plagues), Pharaoh literally turns around and walks back into his house - refusing to listen and to see. We wonder what God is up to in all this pain. This Week Click here for the Bible text Questions As with last week, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What surprises you about this story? 2. As you look at the artwork above and read the artist's statement on page 20 in your journal, what stands out to you? What images would be important to you if you were creating art based on this story? 3. What is unraveling in this story? What emotions come up for you in reading it and imagining the scene? 4. Why do you think Pharaoh responds the way that he does? 5. Who might be the modern day Pharaoh's of our world? Are there times when we are like Pharaoh? 6. We can tend to have a hard time with a God who inflicts suffering on Creation. Yet, this story makes no bones about it - our choices have consequences. Pharaoh's unwillingness to acknowledge suffering brings more suffering both to his own people and the Israelites. What do you make of the plagues? Further Reading Older Testament Scholar Walter Brueggemann reflects on how Pharaoh and the Exodus narrative reflect the myth of scarcity rather than a "liturgy of abundance" that God envisions. Article here . Next Week For next Wednesday, we'll be looking at “Rizpah Mourns her Sons” 2 Samuel 3:7, 21:1-14, and for those who can make it, we'll see you at the in-person gathering on Tuesday, July 16 from 7-8:30.
Show More
Share by: