Is theatre religious or is religion theatrical?
Both. Religious leaders need to study and understand theatre as an ancient and sacred art form before they can properly undertake the role of High Priest/Priestess in their own liturgies. I am more and more convinced with every passing year that the study of theatre should be required of all seminarians, who are launched out into the world with lots of great book-larnin’ but no sense of how to use their body and voice as an instrument of the holy. It’s all in the head. And all the prayerful, scholarly and wordsmithing preparation in the world does not adequately prepare any man or woman without an innate talent for performance for the responsibilities of preaching and presiding.
We must stop thinking of “performance” in the perjorative sense. No, we are not putting on a show. But we are indeed performing ancient mysteries that require training to do properly. This omission in our ministerial education is painfully evident in the unembodied, dull, and distractingly weird or awkward ways religious leaders stumble through the work of presiding.
I attended a community theatre production tonight of one of my all-time favorite movie musicals, “Singin’ In the Rain.” I ushered, and since the show was entirely sold out, I stood throughout the entire show. I was more than happy to do so, for the show was so delightful, the music so fantastic and the dancing so exciting that I needed to move with it, and was glad that I was able to do so without bothering anyone around me. I was literally dancing in the aisles.
“Singin’ In the Rain” is the corniest sort of boy-meets-girl story, set at the end of the silent movie era at the advent of the “talkies.” It features a cast of stock characters: the handsome leading man, the comic second-banana, the ingenue, the shrill dumb blonde, the dancing beauties, the roll call of good-natured cameos. Classic stuff, and wonderful if done right. These are characters we’ve all seen. These are dances we’ve all seen. These are songs we’ve all sung.
Sort of like church, right?
For someone like me, who has seen the movie so many times that it is a kind of set “liturgy” by now, it would be easy to snooze through “Singin’ In the Rain,” tapping my toe, smiling comfortably and clapping at the right time. Nothing new here. Good voices, adept dancers, fine orchestra, nice costumes, thank you very much, put the program in the purse and go home. Nice diversion, life left unchanged.
Sort of like church, right?
But tonight was not like that. I could not just stick my program in my purse and go home. Like one feels after a powerful worship service, I was high. I was renewed in spirit. The show was performed with such sincerity, such artistic care and respect for the material, so much intense, devoted preparation, and with the obvious intent to provide not just a diverting – but a magical – evening, that I left feeling like I had had about ten years of cynical crust chipped off of me. Because of the Company Theatre’s commitment to their craft, I remembered how powerful it can be when a community comes together to tell a wonderful story without cynicism, but with real heart. And with real art.
Just as with transformational worship and religious community, what looks easy on the stage is actually the result of many layers of applied leadership and team work. Knowing the theatre’s artistic staff, musicians, technicians and actors as I do, I could muse about how many decisions and details had been attended to to create the beautiful and even rapturous show the audience enjoyed. I could appreciate how Shirley’s costumes, Sally’s choreography, Michael’s music direction and direction of the 26-piece orchestra, Zoe and Jordy’s direction, James’ beautiful set design, Bob’s technical wizardly (he engineered a real downpour on the stage so that John King had real puddles to splash around in — the audience burst into applause when he effortlessly jumped on the lamp post in the iconic Gene Kelly pose, and again when he paused to let the rain spout dump water on his beaming face)… these people are not only extremely talented, but they have very high expectations for themselves. As a result, they assemble around them very talented and devoted actors out of whom they get the best possible performances. Everyone works hard. Everyone shows up on time, rehearses long hours and does it until it’s right.
How many ministers actually go to the church to interact with the space, to rehearse gestures to make them authentic to their bodies and souls, to think through where to turn, how to enter, all the intricate choreography that lifts the worship experience out of the realm of the rote and into the realm of the urgent and the immediate?
Do you know what it takes to make a double time-step look fresh and new for an audience after you’ve rehearsed it a thousand times? It takes love.
Do you know what it takes to be a man whose life partner is directing the orchestra, but whose job it is to fall in love, night after night, with the pretty girl in the wig who is dancing on stage with you? It takes love. It takes believing in the story you are telling with all your heart, mind and soul, and committing your body to telling that story so that the audience believes it, too.
Do you know what it takes to deliver the corniest old joke in the world in a way that gets a genuine belly laugh from the audience of several hundred tired, winter-weary Boston suburbanites? It takes love, and an appreciation for tradition that refuses to find that joke stale or cliched. You tell it like it’s the first time you thought of it.
It’s not just entertainment, although of course a good show is incredibly entertaining. Good theatre, like good worship, makes a group of individuals into a people for a short time. It passionately communicates a story that the tellers are never tired of telling: “For God so loved the world…” or “The world is a beautiful place where you can fall in love and feel like singing and dancing about it…” And because those telling the story are never tired of telling it, those who gather together out of the solitariness of their lives for that sacred time never tire of hearing it.
Congratulations again to The Company Theatre in Norwell for a beautiful, rapturous interpretation of “Singin’ In the Rain,” a show that I expected only to charm and entertain me, certainly not to inspire me the way it did. Thank you all for taking your work to that next level of commitment so that I could go home feeling not just happy, but — unbelievably enough — more hopeful about the future of humanity.
You’ve opened heaven’s portal
Here on earth for this poor mortal,
You are my lucky star!
“…feeling like I had had about ten years of cynical crust chipped off of me.”
A fellow I know has been a priest for over 50 years and was also an college literature professor. He has a great love of theater and you can find him at just about any performance within a 100 mile radius. Once, after services, he was asked whether he had ever considered a career in theater. His response was “What greater theater is there?” Indeed it is one of the greatest stories ever told.
Good point, PB. I can’t think of a great preacher who doesn’t have a theatrical background. Has anyone seen Mark Stringer preach in Des Moines, eg? However, not all ministers are in the parish. Some of our best UU ministers are community ministers. Instead of requiring theater training for seminary students, in our congregational polity we need to encourage our local congregations in search to make theater training a strong asset.
As a preacher with an undergrad in American Sign Language & Theatre Arts, this is exactly what I try to get across to other preachers and seminarians who ask me, “How do you do what you do?” I believe all those years of theatre training (especially improv) are what make me a good preacher. They helped my interpretation of the texts and (especially) my delivery. I’ve had more than one person say, “I’ve never heard a woman preacher preach like you do.” When I ask if it’s a compliment, they chuckle and say, “Oh yeah.” But it’s not just female preachers who would benefit from the training…male preachers, congregants, etc. Thanks so much for this post!!
A to the men. Not only do I believe that theatre is essential to the ministry, I believe it’s essential to the teaching profession. I never would have made it through the teaching I did during grad school without my theatre experience.
A-men.
What do we think the act of creation was, if not a divine performance? Why else was Jesus telling stories instead of lecturing on ethical maxims? Why else was the church birthed as a body of moving parts? There is sacred power in the repeated performance of God’s love affair with creation. What a blessing to be a player in that eternal stage!
So true and well said! What bothers me most aren’t mistakes or miscalculations but how often ministers (and lay people involved in worship) seem to dismiss the importance of every single move you make. For one thing, the congregational members will only be comfortable if they feel someone is really orchestrating what is happening. More importantly, the Spirit will only visit if we invoke it respectfully and with the belief that it can come. Having said all that, I should add that the hardest challenge I’ve faced in this regard was regularly preaching the same sermon three times on Sunday morning in one church. How do you keep it fresh? How are you present IN the words and let them come to life THROUGH you three times in one morning?!!! It was a spiritual challenge, but it was also intense experience that taught me a lot.
What a beautiful post. As a cast member, I deeply appreciate the eloquently worded reflection back of the love we try to share with the audience each night. Theatre, like church, is a community for so many different kinds of people who come together from their own pasts, with their own stories, to share in one connected experience. It magical and soul-feeding for us on the stage, and I’m so happy to hear that you found joy in it as well.
YES. There is a wide overlap in the skill set necessary for doing live theatre and leading public worship. That’s mainly because they’re two facets of the same thing–taking the unseen that our spirits long for, bringing it into here-and-now, and showing us all a bit of creation that we had not known before. I do that as an actor. I do that as a priest. And as Kelly says, it feeds the soul.
I’m a lay minister with a background as a theatre person, and this is SO true. I also work part-time as a bailiff for a judge and many attorneys could do with some good theatre training too!
HOW you say it is so important……
Totally agree. Not only for preaching, but I would say the best pastoral care class I took was a month-long improv intensive that taught me to respond with “yes” in the moment to whatever was in front of me. One of the seminal texts for my pastoral and preaching ministry is the great “Impro” by Keith Johnstone, which I heartily recommend to the point of annoyance to anyone who will listen.
I sent my sister the link and this is from her:
That is just fantastic. I’m going to bookmark it and refer back to it.
Just lovely, thanks for sending it!
xxxooLiz
I totally agree with this, PB. I have the great good fortune to work closely with a Music Director who is very active in theater. I have the instincts already, but he has the chops, and we make a good team. Never let anyone tell you that church ISN’T theater. Those of us who do church know…
Church is sacred drama. Who do you think the first actors were? They were tribal shamen; donning the skin of the sacred prey, they enacted a successful kill with those who were about to go hunting to feed the tribe. This is the earliest theatre, and the earliest act of worship and magic.
As a theater director/professor, I heartily concur! Performance training gives people a sense of intentionality and purposefulness that informs their actions and words–and great performance requires an attentiveness to the present moment that echoes that required of meditation and prayer. And historically, as others have noted, the theater and worship rituals are deeply intertwined. Personally, I think the holy spirit has a lot to do with both practices.
I am teaching at a diocesan (Episcopal) training event for our deacons in a few weeks…this entry is going to be required reading for the participants. Thank you PB!