style meets substance: Rev. Alan Taylor has incorporated lessons from Second City improv classes to make his sermons more spontaneous. (File 2011)

Two years ago, when the Rev. Alan Taylor was deciding what to do on his sabbatical, he decided to do something out of the box — or rather, out of the pulpit.

“I felt called to do something unfamiliar,” he recalled, “something in which I would be stretched and renewed.” While trying to figure that out, a colleague happened to mention that theater improvisation had become a “big thing” in graduate school leadership studies programs.

“It was like a lightning bolt struck in my head,” said the senior minister at Unity Temple in Oak Park. “Second City has one of the best training centers in the world. I enrolled in two one-week intensives and two other courses that met once a week.”

Second City is, of course, not known as a center of spiritual renewal. But there are some similarities.

“The practice of improv is to clear the mind and simply respond to whatever is in the moment, to follow whatever instinct emerges. It’s a form of play — even though it can be very serious.

“What surprised me was that I would create characters who were so different from who I am. It was so much fun and hilarious to watch,” he said, “while sometimes it would be poignant. One time I created an androgynous white trash character who was utterly ridiculous but strangely believable. That character remains in my psyche.”

The Second City portion of his sabbatical turned into a spiritual experience because it helped him get in touch with parts of himself he didn’t know existed.

“In class we got to know each other and our stretch points,” Taylor recalls. “For me it was showing anger or going into something that’s really politically incorrect.”

He remembered a point in the course when he acted out the words and tone of a John Lennon song which began, “God is a concept by which we measure our pain.”

“It was a poignant, powerful scene,” he said. “The class insisted that it was not an improvisation, that I had planned it out. ‘Alan, this is not like you,’ they said.”

When two people are doing an improv, he noted, they have to experience what the other person is saying and doing and then bring out something from within themselves in response. It’s risky. There’s no guarantee it’s going to go well. Because the interaction is unscripted, you really have to trust the person you’re improvising with.

“Sure,” he admitted, “sometimes I get embarrassed by what comes out, but often good happens because I’ve been a little looser than I am at most times. It’s a practice. It really is a practice.”

After his sabbatical, Taylor decided to try it out at Unity Temple.

“There are lots of people who attend Unity Temple,” he said, “who have improv experience. I invited them to gather on a Friday evening and then on Sunday morning. We did simple theater games to begin with and invited the congregation to join in the games.”

Next came three 2-person improvisations, each of which began by asking the congregation, “What is a sermon you would love to hear that you never have?”

“The second improv just rocked the house,” he said. “The two participants made up a song on the spot about soul candy that raised the energy of the congregation. When they finished, wow!”

Taylor believes his experiences with improv have made him a better pastor.

“The product for me,” he said, “was getting a little more comfortable with having different postures or attitudes. The result has been that when I write my sermons, I try to get to a place where I’m free for ideas to come forth. Sometimes I cultivate that sense of play. Then when I’m in the pulpit, I trust myself more to go off script.”

Improv has also influenced the way he leads prayer. “The process of improv is opening oneself to emotional engagement, emotional experience,” he explained. “I tend to be more reflective, and people appreciate that. But when I am doing improve, I have to let go of thinking about what I’m going to say before I say it. When I let go of that, there’s an emotional power because I’m speaking from the heart.”

What he has learned — or perhaps unlearned — at Second City has also affected the way he goes about pastoral counseling. “I’ll be talking to a person,” he said, “and I notice that something comes up in me in response to what they have said. I’ll share that in some way. I might say, ‘This is my response to what you’re telling me,’ and more often than not, the person will say it opens a whole new dimension to the conversation.”

Taylor believes many people would benefit from experiencing theater improvisation. “There are a number of folks in my congregation who have done it at Second City,” he said, “not because they want to become a comic or a theater person but because they thought this would be helpful for them.”

The theology of improvisation

Through spontaneity we are re-formed into ourselves. It creates an explosion that for the moment frees us from handed-down frames of reference, memory choked with old facts and information and undigested theories and techniques of other people’s findings. Spontaneity is the moment of personal freedom when we are faced with reality, and see it, explore it and act accordingly. In this reality the bits and pieces of ourselves function as an organic whole. It is the time of discovery, of experiencing, of creative expression.
—Viola Spolin

Excerpts from a sermon on improvisation by Rev. Alan Taylor at Unity Temple:

I never imagined I would attend classes at Second City as part of my sabbatical, literally rubbing shoulders with aspiring comedians and actors while receiving training in theater improvisation. Improv training includes a wide variety of games and exercises similar to what our ensemble of Unity Temple members so deftly shared today. I have always enjoyed watching theater improvisation, but it always seemed like something other people do, people with talent, a passion for theater, and those blessed with a natural wit. And that’s not me. I’ve always seen myself as someone blessed not with natural wit, but an innate earnestness that typically makes me pretty darn serious. …

The last day of February, I took the CTA train and headed to North and Wells to begin my first class. I began with 13 complete strangers. Over the next three hours, we got to know one another in a profound way while playing like children, I mean really like children, often smiling and laughing through a variety of exercises, including Zip Zap Zop. It was the first time I discovered spiritual practice can be a lot of fun. By the time we went our separate ways that evening, it was as if our names and personalities were emblazoned on each other’s psyches and each Monday, we returned to these games that encouraged us to let go of that inner critic, that serious and control-obsessed inner observer, while engaging in increasingly complex exercises that challenged us to respond in the moment to whatever we encountered. What emerged sometimes was hilarious, sometimes poignant, always unexpected.

At the heart of Second City’s curriculum is the practice of spontaneity. I quickly learned that the goal in improv is not to be funny, but to do three things: just show up, let go of the inner critic and constant chatter of the mind, and respond naturally, spontaneously to what has just gone before, thus building upon whatever it is that emerges. Improvisation is not served by quick witty remarks so much as simply responding in the moment. One of the basic rules for most improv is “Yes And,” where the goal is to affirm what the other says and add a new dimension to the story or scene in which one finds oneself. It isn’t about the individual, it’s about giving oneself to the interaction, supporting the other, and being willing to go where the spirit beckons. …

Spiritual practices help people move through the world more skillfully by cultivating a greater capacity for sustained attention. Spiritual practice helps people be more awake. But for spiritual practice to have an influence on one’s life, a consistency of practice is required. All this is true of theater improv. …

If we are to live meaningful, engaging lives, we need to embrace practices that get us out of that “small s” self and deal more effectively with the unexpected, the uncertain, the unplanned. Indeed, much of our lives unfold in ways we never imagined, and if we are not able to respond creatively, flexibly, imaginatively, we will not cope with the changes that are inherent in life.

A colleague of mine shared the following quote: “Use your imagination not to scare yourself to death but to inspire yourself to life.”

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Tom's been writing about religion – broadly defined – for years in the Journal. Tom's experience as a retired minister and his curiosity about matters of faith will make for an always insightful exploration...