Having a Comedy Night at Church?

What could possibly go wrong? Here’s what…

Ever thought about putting on a comedy night at your church? There are plenty of reasons to do that. The most obvious is the popularity of stand-up comedy within the mainstream culture. And what could be more delightful and welcoming than an evening of joy and laughter?

I would say this because I’m the sort of person that could be the comic turn should you decide to go ahead with such an event. And if that’s you, get in touch. I’m your man. And by the end of this article, I will have explained why and how.

The Big Worry

But I suspect many people don’t get as far as contacting me – or any comedian - because they’re worried about the event going wrong.

I get it. I write jokes for a living. Comedy is a high-wire act. In fact, I wrote a book called The Sacred Art of Joking on this very subject. In it, I explain how comedy works, and how it goes wrong, especially in the realm of religion. It turns out that jokes have so many moving parts, it’s surprising they don’t break down, blow up or career into a ditch more often. Comedy is risky.

Let’s throw in another complication if your gig is in the church building itself. If it’s an old Anglican church, the room was designed seven hundred years ago to illicit reverence, not laughter. It’s probably badly lit, or at least lighting the wrong things for a comedy night, which also tend to do better with lower ceilings.

If it’s a modern non-conformist church, it’s probably sparsely decorated, over-lit and giving off the vibe of a lecture hall or fire assembly point. So that risky comedy just got even harder.

Our Survey Said

So I ran a poll on a Facebook Group of Church leaders and active lay members, asking what the main concerns would be about running a comedy night. There have been just over 120 respondents so far. Here was the biggest concern:

It won’t actually be funny 37%

I’ll be honest. I hadn’t expected this one to be the top answer by such a large margin, but there’s a lot of pressure on delivering here, isn’t there? You’re promising the members of your church and their friends comedy. What if it isn’t funny? How embarrassing. And embarrassment is the worst emotion a British Christian can experience. You’re probably booking someone you’ve never heard of. Those polished Live at the Apollostars are oddly unwilling to come to your church and perform. I know. Incredible. So instead you’re booking a ‘Christian comedian’, and this makes you nervous. After all, most of the really funny comedians aren’t Christians. The few who are would rather play the 600-seater theatre in the town centre rather than the small Baptist church on the edge of town. Who can blame them?

It might offend people 7%

I thought would be more of a concern, but it’s still a worry. If it’s going be funny, does that mean that it’s going to be offensive? Isn’t comedy always at someone else’s expense? It isn’t, actually. But there’s always that worry that the vicar or minister is going to have to spend time afterwards grovelling and apologising to the congregation on Sunday morning because certain words were used, or stereotypes perpetuated, and people got upset. Suddenly getting in a singer-songwriter seems like a much better option. Why take the risk for the sake of some jokes?

So those are the big two concerns. In trying to avoid them, one might end up with this problem:

It might just be weird 10%

Maybe there’s someone out there who’s not offensive, and doesn’t seem lame. It’s quirky. It’s zany. It’s off-the-wall. And most people don’t seem to get it. Most of the audience are baffled as to what others are laughing at. This doesn’t feel very inclusive. The room is split. And it’s not what you want.

But even if one avoids those three problems, there’s one other potential hazard that is often not considered.

It won’t actually advance the mission of the church 13%

A comedian comes. He or she is funny about nothing in particular. No-one is offended. And people go home. The event breaks even. Is that going to make anyone come to church on Sunday? The content of the evening was not distinctive. Many will feel like this is a missed opportunity. You’ve brought people into a church. They’re probably expecting to hear a little bit about Jesus. But there wasn’t much in the way of Bible content.

Sometimes, there is an attempt to remedy this with an awkward ‘come to church’ request, or an interview, a testimony or, worse, a short earnest talk to cap it all off. The shift in tone is palpably awkward. Most of the room are thinking ‘oh heavens, make it stop.’

Four problems. One Solution.

Okay, there are two solutions. One solution is not to bother with a comedy night. I can understand that. Why take the risk? Why go to the trouble? Why spend your ‘invite your friends’ social capital on something that shows little chance of bearing fruit? Why risk making a loss? (That’s what another 22% are most worried about, that ticket sales won’t cover costs)

The other solution is to consider what I’m trying to do when I do comedy nights in churches. Sorry if that sounds egotistical – but comedy performance requires a certain amount of ‘hey, look at me for at least an hour’-chutzpah. We could label it a gift or a calling if that makes everyone feel more comfortable.

So here’s what I do: use 25 years of comedy industry experience to create a stand-up-style comedy about the Bible in which Jesus is the hero – and we, and the disciples, and the world, are the butt of the jokes. In a show, I present as someone with an unshakeable conviction that the Bible is true, and that Jesus is who he claims to be, and go from there.

The Problem with the Solution

Saying that I talk about the Bible and Jesus makes some assume that this kind of comedy is only for Christians. After all, no-one else will get the references, right?

Actually, I’m really careful to put everyone at their ease by starting out on common ground with the famous Bible stories that are still in the broader culture (eg. Jesus turning water into wine). Then I find aspects of those stories and moments which are slightly overlooked,  inherently delightful, comic and, crucially, challenging. And I always try to bring them back to Jesus Christ, who is such a comically wonderful, bountiful saviour who pours out so much blessing, we can’t ever get our heads around it. Which is funny.

The Proof in the Pudding

I’ve been doing this kind of thing for several years, now – and writing jokes for a lot longer. Originally it was shorter slots at Christian festivals like Spring Harvest, Word Alive or the Keswick Convention. But soon I was able to string material together to create shows that are able to hold the audience's attention for an hour or so. And they really do seem to like it.

Why not give that a go and find out how something like this could work in your church?

You could ‘reply to’ this email, if you subscribe and get it via email. If you don’t subscribe already, maybe you could? It’s free:

Or contact me via this substack or my website and ask me for info, with no pressure or obligation.

And you can check out my Water into Wine show over here:

Meanwhile, here’s some stuff I’ve done in the past: