Episcopal Church Foundation Vestry Papers - for leading congregations

Last Saturday I went to a birthday party for a friend. After the food, socializing, and a round of charades, a young adult taught us improv comedy games. Most of us had never done improv before, but Patrick guided us in a firm and fun-loving manner, encouraging our play and creativity.

One of the games centered on telling a fairy tale. Three people sat in front of the group on chairs. One would begin telling the familiar story. When Patrick gave the signal, that person stopped talking – often mid thought – and the person he pointed to next would have to pick up in the exact place to continue the story. If someone paused too long, sputtered over their words, or didn’t pick up in the flow of words or emotion, Patrick would signal their death. “Die well!” he instructed, urging us to send forth a gasp and collapse to the floor so another party guest could take the seat. The newcomer was then on the hot seat to pick up the tale where others had left it hanging.

It was so much fun that a few of us continued that evening around the kitchen table. This time we told the story of Moses and the Exodus from Egypt. (That’s what happens when you get two nuns, a priest, a young Jewish woman, and a farmer around a table…. This sounds like the set up to a joke from earlier in the party, but it’s not.)

Given that we were improvising on the spot, we blurred lines between memory, history, and political commentary on the current revolution in Egypt. At one moment we all broke into singing “Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt’s land. Tell old Pharaoh to let my people go!”

Then we created our own game. Each person around the table could only say one word, but instead of a story, we aimed to create a proverb. The first rounds weren’t bad as we strung silly words together to attempt a pithy phrase of wisdom. We’d laugh and go again. But the next rounds got bogged down, until Patrick took time to further explain his top three rules about improv. At its best, he said, improv is a spiritual practice.

1.)  Accept and build. Or put another way, say “Yes, and….” Take whatever comes and work with it.    

2.)  Make your partner look good. Give them something specific to work with, so they can pick up from you and carry it on.    

3.)  Dare to be average. Don’t try to draw the spotlight to yourself or work too hard to say the most witty or profound comment. What matters is the group’s interaction, not an individual’s intention.

Why is improv a spiritual practice? Because we learn to let go of the ego, to become less attached to the outcome, and to accept what’s given to us. It’s all about giving and receiving gracefully and gratefully. When we would get bogged down in our game, it was usually by getting caught up in whether we or others were playing it “right” or in anticipating the story or proverb the way we expected it to end. The key to the creativity and humor of improv is seeing it come together as something unexpected. We needed to trust the process.

I came away wanting to apply these insights to other areas of life and work. It seems to me these elements are essential to good group process and to my own living in a world of uncertainty. I find myself wanting to be more accepting and playful, trusting God whose power working through us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.