LEVERAGING LAUGHTER TO ECLIPSE LEADERS' FEARS
The late Dr. Martin de Maat had a profound impact on my life (I wrote about that here). He was not only my professor and mentor, he was a close friend (Martin was even one of my wedding groomsmen!).
Dr. de Maat taught me so much not only about improvisational-comedy, but more importantly about the joy of doing life together:
"What happens... in being with each other in acceptance and Yes And-ing each other, is that you as an individual start to believe in yourself because you begin to see yourself in the others' eyes.
Your ensemble, your group, your team, your committee, is the one that's believing in you and you pull it together to do it for them.
You know, it's simply recognizing you're not alone. It's love and unconditional acceptance.
You put yourself in a place of support, unconditional acceptance and love for who you are, the way you are and your uniqueness, and what you do is grow. You surround yourself with people who are truly interested in you and listen to you, and you will grow.
And it doesn't take much to start advancing you, it doesn't take much of that support, it doesn't take much of that love and that care and you can do it. You can play act with people. You can be in a state of play together."
This is how comedians create new material.
Yes And leads to trust leads to contagious unity leads to childlike creativity.
Its how leaders might lead teams in the 21st Century.
Don't settle for the loneliness of leadership isolation.
Dream of and strive for a team of church leaders who are accepting of one another's uniquenesses. After all, we each bring different strengths to the table.
I love what Martin would say about the group dynamics of creating comedy through Yes And:
"There's a lot of laughter that goes on. Since we're laughing together, we're true community. It's a very safe place to confront your fears. The minute somebody says, 'Perform!' your fear comes up..."
As we Yes And, may we as leaders embrace contagious unity and laughter.
By refusing to perform and instead choosing raw, authentic community, we may just lead at a higher, deeper, more spiritually-sensitive level than before...
CUT THE CHEESE: 3 STEPS TOWARD CREATING A NON-CHEESY RADIO SPOT FOR YOUR CHURCH
I’m a big believer in leveraging all media by all means to reach all people for the gospel. There’s just one thing that drives me crazy… Cheesy Christian Media.
Let’s be honest: if Christians excel in one area of media, it’s the cheese. We try to clumsily lump theological doctrine into 30 second church ads thinking that the goal is information-transfer.
Nope, sorry.
Effective advertising is more about connecting emotionally and relationally.
If you can touch the heart (or funny bone), you earn permission to invite people into your story.
First, here’s a recent spot:
Three steps we’ve learned in cutting the cheese:
1) KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE!
This radio spot is not designed for deeply theological, life-long Christians. In fact, I’ve already taken heat from over-saved Christians on the internet. And I don’t care, because I’m not called to make men happy but instead to obey the Lord.
The message in this radio spot is aimed toward people who wouldn’t normally darken a church door. When you know exactly who you are communicating to, it won’t bother you when the rocks come flying from outsiders.
2) CONSISTENCY BREEDS TRUST!
When I lived in north-east Ohio, I was impressed by the media strategy of Knute Larson, a now-retired pastor of The Chapel. Over the course of many years, by consistently lending his own voice and personality to church radio and tv ads, people throughout the region began to trust Knute. Even people who never attended church began to naturally think of Knute as “their pastor.”
If they ever encountered a crisis in their lives, they knew Knute Larson and The Chapel were a safe place to go to for help. That’s my heart for Life Church in the Great Lakes Bay Region. Consistency breeds trust.
Proverbs 22 says, “A good name is more desirable than great riches.” Life Church has a strong reputation and name recognition among unchurched Millennials and Gen Xers in our region of Michigan as a safe, non-judgemental place to ask real questions about faith. That is important to me as our church continues moving forward.
3) EXAGGERATE THE TABOO!
In this 2017 ad, we were told by the radio station that we couldn’t say the full title of the movie in our radio ad for legal reasons.
What could have been a hurdle was instead turned into an opportunity.
In my improv-comedy training, I learned about the power of exaggerating the taboo. I talk more about this in my first book, Comedy-Driven Leadership: there are no mistakes, only opportunities.
In this case, we thought it would be hilarious for our 60 second radio ad for a church to have words that are being beeped out. It would actually make the radio spot more interesting, like playing a little game with the audience!
The result is a fresh and fun radio spot that is gaining traction in the Great Lakes Bay Region. More people will feel welcomed at Life Church and the story of God’s love will echo into more hearts.
That One Time TINA FEY Helped Me Pick Out Panty-Hose
One Saturday night in the mid-1990's while working at The Second City comedy theater in Chicago, I received a phone call that I was being activated as an understudy for a
children’s theater performance the next day.
Somebody in the cast of the production was sick and so my moment in the spotlight was beckoning. I was excited until I realized that the production involved dressing up as a pirate and I needed to provide my own pantyhose.
Apparently Captain Hook had an inner diva.
Pantyhose, really? I’m a guy which means I have an allergy to Haines and don’t know the first thing about choosing pantyhose.
But here I was after working the late shift at Second City, clumsily fumbling through the pantyhose aisle of a Walgreens at 3 am. I think my Man Card was suspended for the night.
Luckily, two women walked into the Walgreens and came to my aid: Rachel Dratch and Tina Fey. I shared in my book, "Holy Shift," about how at this time in her life, Tina Fey was not big into parties after late night performances at Second City. Her regular rituals included renting movies at the local Blockbuster Video and grabbing a snack at the Walgreens across the street.
This is how she and Dratch found me.
I wish I could say it was one of my finer moments in life but there’s no way to spin it: I was a young college dude looking pathetic buying women’s pantyhose.
Tina and Rachel must have thought I was nuts and easily could have assumed the worst about me and walked away. Instead they walked toward me. Instead of talking ABOUT me, they chose to talk WITH me.
It didn’t hurt that they recognized me from Second City, so they came over to ask what I was up to.
After I explained my predicament in a way that only professional theater people can understand, Tina took a few minutes to choose just the right color and size of pantyhose for me to dress up in as a pirate the next day.
Yes, it’s true: Tina Fey helped me pick out pantyhose.
Actually purchasing the pantyhose was embarrassing. There is just no cool way for a twenty-year-old dude at 3 am to slyly hand over a pink package of Haines Hosiery Thigh-Highs
and declare with security in their own manhood, “It’s just something for the little lady at home.”
Yes, I may have looked odd or even a bit creepy from the outside
looking in.
The cashier didn’t crack a smile once during the checkout
process, he just stared at me in judgment. And I can’t blame him
for assuming the worst about me.
But isn’t that how we all react when we encounter something out of the ordinary without all the information on the situation?
What if we chose to believe the best about the people we encounter?
What if we eclipsed our inner judge with a presumption of compassion?
At Life Church Saginaw, we are willing to try anything and do
anything short of sin to engage people who normally will not darken a church door.
Having a whatever it takes attitude to reaching people
far from God has led us on some wild adventures.
One idea that has gained traction and successfully reached families in our region each year is our annual Easter Egg Helicopter Drop.
We invite folks to our church campus, throw a free party (remember, Jesus loved a good party!), and after they realize we are normal and harmless, we invite them back the next day for Easter services.
We have heard story after story of people becoming Christ-followers as a direct result of our Egg Drop!
As you can imagine, when you throw 50,000 eggs out of a helicopter, the media takes notice. Flying plastic eggs play well for local news cameras.
One year our Egg Drop even caught the attention of
newspapers throughout Michigan and The Christian Post, a national online publication. People far from God loved our heart and passion for serving area families. However, the online comments sections were filled with venom and judgment . . .
from other Christians.
As I read the first few comments from self-professing Christians,
I felt like a hemophiliac in a razor factory. Instead of talking
TO us, brothers and sisters in Christ were talking
ABOUT us on a public forum with assumptions that were not true.
The statements made about our church’s motives by people outside our church who claimed to represent the one true Church made people who go to church look stupid.
Assuming the worst can lead to unnecessary black-eyes within the Body of Christ. Friendly-fire is preventable. God gave us one mouth and two ears for a reason. It is always wiser to listen more than we speak.
Labeling people in public forums is not a sign of maturity—it’s a
preschool mentality. If we are unable to gather all the facts, then
our default as Christ-followers needs to be believing the best about people, not assuming the worst.
We have a fantastic team of Interns at Life Church who are learning and growing in their leadership skills. Part of the program is that we are intentionally providing a safe environment to make mistakes in.
We learn when we try.
When an intern makes a mistake in our church, we always believe the best. We walk alongside them, tell them to take a deep breath, and then we ask, “You’re okay, you tried something new, now what did you learn from that experience?”
Believing the best can be a game changer in your life and your
leadership. Jumping to positive conclusions creates energy, trust,
and forward movement in any ensemble. Believing the best helps
eliminate gossip and unnecessary drama.
Believe the best about the people you are partnering with and watch how your leadership climate shifts toward a stronger ensemble!
[ Excerpt from the book, "Holy Shift," by Dr. Jonathan Herron ]
Steve Martin: "Be So Good They Can't Ignore You"
One of my FAVORITE MOVIES is the sleeper-comedy, Leap of Faith, starring STEVE MARTIN and a then-unknown PHILLIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN.
Just after winning the 2006 Golden Globe Award for Best Actor in a Motion Picture Drama (Capote), Philip Seymour Hoffman explained the approach that helped him reach the top of his profession.
In reply to a question about what advice he’d give to aspiring actors, Hoffman said,
“This is something a teacher told me years ago, and he’s right: even if you’re auditioning for something that you know you’re never going to get or for something you read and didn’t like—if you get a chance to act in a room that somebody else has paid rent for, then you’re given a free chance to PRACTICE YOUR CRAFT. And in that moment, you should act as well as you can.”
“Because when you act as well as you can,” Hoffman says, “there’s NO WAY the people who have watched you will forget it.”
So it leads to opportunities, but more importantly, “at the end of the day, all that matters is the work. Everybody knows that. If I show up one day and the work I’m doing isn’t any good, then I’m just a guy who’s not acting well…
So I would say it to anybody starting out: if you’re given a chance to act, take those words and bring them alive. If you do that, something good will transpire ultimately.”
Takeaway 1:
Philip Seymour Hoffman saying that good things inevitably transpire when you just focus on doing whatever you're doing as well you can reminded me of a piece of advice from Steve Martin.
“Despite a lack of natural ability,” Martin writes in his memoir, Martin would go on to put together one of the most decorated careers in the history of entertainment (five Grammy Awards, an Emmy Award, a couple of Lifetime Achievement Awards, an Honorary Oscar, and on and on).
Someone stood up in an audience once and asked Martin, how do you become successful?
“You have to become undeniably good at something,” he said. “Nobody ever takes my advice, because it’s not the answer they wanted to hear…but I always say, ‘Be so good they can’t ignore you.’ If you are just always thinking, ‘How can I be really good?’—people will come to you.”
Takeaway 2:
I've written before about a trait often possessed by those who reach the heights of their profession:
They do what they do, not as a means to some end (money, fame, awards, etc.), but for the sake of doing it. To them, as Hoffman said, the work is all that matters. To them, as Ryan Holiday once told me, “the work is the win.”
You control the effort, he says, not the results. You control how well you act, not whether or not you get the part. “So ultimately,” Ryan told me, “you have to love doing it. You have to get to a place where doing the work is the win and everything else is extra.”
- - -
“She brought so much love, energy, and cheerfulness to the work that she could not but succeed.” — Louisa May Alcott
Colin Mochrie Reflects on Over 30 Years of Whose Line Is It Anyway?
Vulture has a great interview with Colin Mochrie, the improv phenom who has been making us all laugh for 30 years.
As you know, improvisational comedy has many “rules” that apply to business, leadership and life, as revealed in my book, Holy Shift.
Here are some highlights from the article:
On improv entering the mainstream:
“There are still times I think, How did they pitch the show to a network and have it get picked up? There’s four guys you have never seen before, and we don’t have a show until the end of the taping, and it’s 22 episodes of that. I’m proud that it got improv into the public mind-set.”
Anybody can improvise:
“Like any muscle, it has to be worked and exercised. Because, I mean, basically, we’re all improvisers. That’s what our lives are. We have sort of a rough framework; we know how it’s going to end. Everything in between now and then is just totally improvised.”
Why improvisers hate Hoedowns:
“Well, they’re horrible! First of all, is it even a song style? It’s like, “Oh, let’s hear the hoedown stylings of …” Who? No one. And there’s no good place to be in line. The first person: You get this suggestion right away, you have no time to think. And then the rest of the time, you’re just hoping no one will take your verse. There’s some topics we think, All I’ve got is one thing. If somebody does that verse … And when they do it right before you? I can’t even describe the feeling. It’s just loss and despair. And the fact that the Hoedown was invented? It’s horrible.”
Comedian Kevin Farley on LeaderShift
Comedian Kevin Farley joins me on a new episode of LeaderShift! Farley has been bringing his signature brand of upbeat entertainment to fans around the world for over three decades. Kevin got his start at the famous Second City in Chicago. Soon after he starred in films such as Black Sheep (with his older brother Chris) and The Waterboy (with Adam Sandler), as well as roles on Curb Your Enthusiasm, Comedy Central's Drunk History, and Netflix's F is for Family.
In this episode of LeaderShift, Farley shares shifts and insights from a stand-up comic’s perspective that apply to your leadership including:
Trust your instincts — Don’t second-guess yourself.
Don’t judge yourself.
The one thing every audience really responds to.
How to deal with rejection in your business.
The gold of authenticity in communication.
Connect with Kevin Farley on his official website, Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook.
Listen to LeaderShift now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or Amazon Music.
25 Years Ago, I Partied with Chris Farley, Two Nights Before He Died
EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is an excerpt from the opening of Jonathan Herron’s book, Holy Shift. Jonathan leads one of America’s fastest growing churches, LifeChurchMichigan.com. Part of his training was his time spent at Second City in Chicago. Holy Shift is about unleashing contagious enthusiasm on church leadership teams; equipping leaders to leverage laughter and passion; and creating sustainable momentum in reaching younger crowds for Christ.
My dad was a pastor, which means our family went to church every single Sunday. This was great for introducing me to the gospel and receiving Christ into my life at a young age but was horrible for my chosen vocation of comedy. You see, we were Presbyterians, a group of Christians not really known for producing high-quality, razor-wit comedians. Our pastors know how to dress up in dark robes like Obi-Wan Kenobi, but we tend to shy away from open-mic comedy nights. Presbyterians must think it’s funny to say that we are God’s “frozen chosen.” I don’t get it. I always found it curious that if you rearrange the letters in Presbyterians, it spells out Britney Spears. That I do get.
Anyhow, I loved our little country church in the fields of Iowa. Looking back now, I realize we didn’t have much to do in Iowa. When you’re surrounded by cows, chickens, and pigs, your options tend to be limited. In my spare time, I excelled at corn-on-the-cob speed eating. What can I say? We are Iowans. We like simple. We thought that the capital of Wisconsin was W.
The day after I graduated from high school, I begged and pleaded with my parents to drive me to Chicago to see a show at Second City. The birthplace of improvisational comedy, The Second City in Chicago has produced most of the major comedy stars over the past half century: Alan Arkin, Bill Murray, Gilda Radner, Mike Myers, Stephen Colbert, Steve Carrell, and the voice of Homer Simpson, Dan Castellaneta. Without Second City, there would have been no Saturday Night Live, no Ghostbusters, no Late Show with Stephen Colbert, and no Simpsons. If I wanted to move toward writing and performing comedy, Second City was my first stop.
As we parked the car a block away from the comedy theater, we looked over our shoulders and noticed another historic landmark: the Moody Church. Constructed in 1924, Moody Church was the result of the aggressive evangelism of Dwight L. Moody in the late 1800’s. Literally and figuratively, I believe that the intersection of church and comedy can be felt at the corner of North and Wells. Many Second City performers and students (including myself years later) would attend worship at Moody Church on Sundays at 5pm and then head over two blocks to the theater to create comedy. There’s a symbiotic relationship there; comedy and leadership are not as far apart as you would suspect.
Fresh out of high school, I found the comedy show that evening to be hypnotic and mesmerizing. I was hooked: Second City was where I wanted to go and learn the principles of comedy. As soon as I could afford a full tank of gas later that summer, my aim was to wave goodbye to Iowa and hello to Chicago.
Turns out I needed to arrive in the Windy City a few days ahead of Columbia College’s freshmen move-in so that I could interview at Second City for a hosting job. When I got the call a few days later that I was hired, I hit the roof! I was in! I didn’t care if there was grunt work involved and all my weekend hours would be spent cooking and cleaning; the idea of rubbing shoulders with established comedians was intoxicating.
One particularly busy night in the fall of 1997, I was handed the tickets for a couple who were eager for the evening’s performance. I quickly sized them up and was astonished at the sight. The young woman was HAWT (yes, H – A – W – T)! She was beautiful, blonde, in a gorgeous evening dress, and had sparkling blue eyes. Hawt.
Her date, on the other hand, was NAWT! He was overweight and sweaty, sported slicked-back-yet-frazzled hair, tie askew . . . definitely NAWT! Do you remember the old musical segment on Sesame Street: “One of these things is not like the other?” That was this guy! He did NOT go with HER! As I began leading them to their table, I silently wondered, What is this, a joke? Did she lose a bet somewhere? Is this guy her cousin?
Their tickets were for the best seats in the house—remarkable because only Second City alumni or relatives and close friends can secure the best seats. I glanced back at the couple to see if I recognized either of them. Nope. Must be friends of a cast member, I guessed.
As I politely pulled back their chairs to help seat them, I looked down at the tickets one last time to quickly use the last name listed and wish them a good evening. They were sitting down as I realized what I was saying mid-sentence: “Thank you for being our guests tonight at Second City, Mr. Faaaaaaaarrrrrrrrley.” My mouth went dry as cotton balls and my palms became clammy. This was Chris Farley!
As I stumbled back toward my manager to assist the next guests waiting in line, she grabbed my ear. “You see Mr. Farley over there with his date? We want to make sure he has a very good time tonight. At intermission, I don’t want anyone bugging him for photos or autographs. It’s going to be YOUR job to usher Farley out of the room and act as his bodyguard.”
Bodyguard? Me? Hadn’t my manager seen my body frame? If I were a superhero, my name would be Captain Toothpick. At intermission, I dutifully whisked Chris Farley out of the main theater and into a holding room. He was very kind, down-to-earth, and, well, sweaty. But I didn’t mind; I had a front-row seat to a rich and famous comedian! We exchanged some small talk, and at the end of the night I thought that was that. Turns out Mr. Farley would be making multiple visits to the theater over the coming weeks . . . and I was the Tommy Boy star’s designated body man for each visit. Over time I was able to closely observe the side effects of stardom.
I remember one night Farley came barreling into the theater with a group of friends. Once we had them seated at a large table near the front, Farley pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills and began liberally handing them out to his party. They pocketed their cash and scattered. I thought it was odd.
Another time Chris came to a show under the influence of something. He looked like more of a mess than usual and smelled like he hadn’t showered in days. When he began loudly heckling the comedians on stage, I had the awkward duty of discreetly trying to remove Chris Farley from the audience.
Even though I was a front-row witness to some blaring warning signs, I had zero sway over Farley’s downward spiral. My role was being the young, impressionable college kid from Iowa who thought it was cool to hang out with one of my comedy idols. As I bragged about my adventures to friends back home, folks thought I was making this stuff up.
So I became determined to snap a picture with Farley.
My opportunity came that December at Second City’s annual Christmas party for employees and alumni. Closed to the public, this was a night of celebration and revelry . . . and Chris Farley was there! I found him in the back swapping cocaine with some of the kitchen staff. He looked like he had been partying for a few days straight at that point. I jumped in with friends for a group shot, and there in the back of our photo, posing alongside us college kids, was a drunk Chris Farley.
This was the late 1990s, a bygone era before Instagram and Facebook. We didn’t have digital cameras with instantly-uploadable photos. Nope. I had to head across the street to a 24-hour Walgreens to drop off my film for three-day development (three days—oh the horror!). I was excited because on that cold, wintry Monday night in Chicago’s Old Town district, I had partied with Chris Farley.
Thursday morning I was sitting down for a college class when a buddy came in the door. “Hey, Herron! Did you hear about Chris Farley?” he announced. “You bet,” I replied. “I just partied with him two nights ago, and I’ll pick up the pictures after class!
“No,” my friend pressed on, his voice lowering a bit. “I mean, did you hear the news about Farley? They just discovered his body in the John Hancock Building.”
Turns out that two nights after my photo was taken, Farley was continuing a four-day partying binge. After smoking crack and snorting heroin with a call girl, he took her back to his apartment in the John Hancock Building on Michigan Avenue. There was an argument about money that caused her to get up in a huff. Chris tried to follow but instead collapsed on the floor, struggling to breathe. His final words were, “Don’t leave me.” Instead of calling 9-1-1, the escort stole his watch and wrote a note saying she’d had a lot of fun, then left.
Chris Farley died alone.
You can discover the rest of Jonathan Herron’s story in Holy Shift.