Creeds slay wonder and scare “outsiders.” To understand this sentence, I need to talk about theatre for a bit.
In the past couple months, I’ve seen three comedies on stage—two British stage comedies (One Man, Two Guvnors and The Play that Goes Wrong) as well as the American Harry Potter parody, Puffs I’m infinitely biased to believe that One Man Two Guvnors was better because I Assistant Directed that show, but all biases aside, I’m confident:
One Man, Two Guvnors is scientifically a better play than the other two.
Despite the fact that Puffs’ schtick is supposed to be the play for everyone who hasn’t been a grand hero and The Play that Goes Wrong reveals the deeply flawed person inside all of us, the characters are surprisingly unrelatable. No one on stage is halfway “normal.” In a world where everyone is ridiculous, wit loses its wonder and humor becomes a lot less funny.
One Man, Two Guvnors, the ridiculously funny British farce by Richard Bean that launched James Corden into carpool Karaoke stardom is no less absurd but protects two characters from the over-the-top mentality of everyone else on stage. The comedically brilliant Lee George, playing Lloyd Boatang at Fort Worth’s Circle Theatre embraced the role as perhaps the most important person on stage. Almost everyone else in the show is ridiculous and borderline insane. For example, Lee Boatang never devolves into the surrounding insanity, rarely advances the story and doesn’t have a lot of lines but is on stage in almost every scene. He is absolutely one of the most important characters in the play. Why?
Lee George masterfully plays Lloyd Boatang at Circle Theatre’s production of One Man, Two Guvnors.
Photo Credit: Taylor Staniforth
Every show needs a “straight man.” Melissa McCarthy is unfunny in movies without someone to react to her general buffoonery. Costello would’ve been stunningly unfunny without Abbot talking to him with a certain measure of disdain and/or disbelief. Audiences need someone on stage to give them permission to think that everything happening around them is absurd and strange. The “straight man” is a wink to the audience, setting them at ease and inviting them to take everything just a little less seriously.
The Church Needs More “Straight Men” in leadership (to be ABUNDANTLY CLEAR I am using the slightly problematic theater term for a “straight man” who can be of any gender. The church decidedly doesn’t need more heteronormative patriarchy)
We rarely remember the importance of a “straight man” in the church—in fact I’ve almost never seen one. We don’t need a “straight man” to make us funny (we’re a ridiculously unfunny people which is the subject of another blog post). The church needs a “straight man” in worship to acknowledge the fact that we say ridiculous things. The church flings ludicrous beliefs with the confidence of Will Ferrell talking about Santa Claus in the movie Elf and nobody flinches. We forget that for people who aren’t already enmeshed in the church that much of what we espouse seems strange, at best, and dangerously delusional, at worst. We forget that some people grew up in the church and are just now starting to question the beliefs they’ve taken for granted their whole life.
If all a doubting congregant sees “on stage” is stone-cold belief in the ridiculous faith of Jesus Christ, they feel uneasy and unsure if they belong.
What’s worse is that lacking a voice of dissent within the church, churchy people can far too easily lose their wonder at faith. This may be one of the greatest crimes we commit with orthodox homogeneity. Lacking wonder, we no longer realize that our faith makes us special, that our traditions make us weird that our church participation and membership even matters.
A person of color who enters a church and sees only white people in leadership tends to think there may not be a place for them at that church (they’re probably correct). Similarly, a person questioning faith who sees nothing but 100% conviction wonders if there is a place for them.
We need to give voice to struggle
We need to own that faith is weird
We need to model how to question well.
Not as a “straight man” whose disapproving look mocks those on the religious stage, but as a best friend who earnestly struggles to understand that which makes another humanunique in the hope that, through understanding, they may love their friend all the more.
The reality is that our faith tradition runs deep with “straight men” witness to counter our ridiculously beautiful faith. Hymns like “Come Thou Fount of Ev’ry Blessing” and “Just A Closer Walk with Thee” name the struggle to embrace faith and fall in love with Jesus. Characters like Thomas, Nicodemus, the disciples on the walk to Emmaus, Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemanie, Jonah, Job, Mary with Gabriel, and Paul’s own confessions give voice to the difficulty of faith and discipleship. “Israel”, the name given for God’s chosen people, literally means “those who wrestle with God.”
Just as a “straight man” makes a play funnier for an audience, giving voice to dissent makes faith more wonder-full for those who do have it and more attainable for those who need to suspend reality in order to then make the choice to wrap themselves in Jesus Christ belief for all of its ridiculous beauty.
Around Union, we use a different kind of creed. Every line is a question, yet it so clearly makes statements about who we are. Perhaps your church can find additional ways to life up “straight man” voices.
UNION STUDIO CREED
What if God never stopped creating?
What if God crafts mosaics from the broken pieces of yesterday, clears canvases for a fresh start and offers hope to a world in need?
What if certainty was the opposite of faith?
What if faith gives life because of our choices, not in spite of them?
What if Jesus came to give us more than healing, more than wisdom, more than forgiveness?
What if Jesus gives us a story that shapes our story so that we may shape the world?
What if we knew our purpose and had a place regardless of what we believe of whom we love?
What if that place is here?
What if we’re already creators, collaborators and friends with God?
What if we’re a part of God’s story for Dallas?What if we live like these things are true?