Stand-Up & Preach: 8 Comedy Secrets That Can Make You A Better Preacher
Photo by Louis Smit on Unsplash
Preaching and stand-up comedy might seem like completely different worlds, but here’s what I’ve learned: every comedian knows things that can make every preacher better. And it’s not just about being funny.
Three years ago I tried stand-up comedy for the first time and quickly discovered it is WAY harder than I imagined. But through reading comedy books, watching sets, and practicing alongside other comics, I not only gained confidence on stage—I have become a better preacher. I’m convinced that if pastors engaged their congregations with the same intentionality comedians bring to a club, our sermons would not just inform but truly connect, inspire, and transform.
So here are eight comedy secrets that have changed my preaching and can help you too.
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1. Keep it Tight
The comedian George Burns once said, “The secret of a good sermon is to have a good beginning and a good ending; and to have the two as close together as possible.” My wife Annie offers me similar encouragement, saying, “If you can’t be good, at least keep it short.”
When comedians start out, most open mics only give you five minutes to prove yourself. That’s why their goal is a “Tight 5”—five minutes of only the good stuff. No fluff.
So here are eight comedy secrets that have changed my preaching and can help you too.
On behalf of parishioners everywhere, I’ll say: I WISH pastors were as attentive to cutting the fluff. I KNOW trimming a sermon is hard work, but I think almost every sermon could be better if it were 25% shorter. Keep it tight!
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2. Delivery Matters: Know Your Material
Judy Carter, author of The Comedy Bible, says, “In order to make people laugh, you have to connect with them. That will never happen with your head down, reading a piece of paper. Ever.”
The same goes for preaching. I once heard about a seminary professor who told his class that preaching is “10% content and 90% delivery.” That’s probably an exaggeration, but the point stands: it doesn’t matter how brilliant or theologically sound your sermon is if no one’s paying attention.
Preachers who know their material—whether they write a manuscript, outline, or something in between—are free to look up, connect, and engage.
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3. Bits: Preach in Chunks
One way comedians “know their material” is that they break their sets into “bits”—small sections of jokes or stories. They may have a notebook nearby with an outline of the set, but on stage they flow seamlessly from one bit to the next.
Preachers who think in bits can do the same. Structure your sermon around memorable chunks and you’ll naturally lift your head from the page. You’ll be more present and more flexible, but still be structured and know how to “land the plane” in the end.
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4. Persona: Finding Your Unique Voice
A lot of comedians start out sounding like their favorite comedian. Similarly, many preachers start out sounding like their favorite seminary professor. That’s natural—but the goal is to grow into your own voice.
The person in the pulpit should sound like the same person you’d meet on a Friday night or Monday afternoon. No one else has your voice. Be you.
When I stepped onto comedy stages, I realized quickly that the things that made me “different”—being a pastor, a North Dakota farm kid, a dad with three boys—were actually the things that made me interesting. What makes you unique is part of what makes you powerful as a preacher.
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5. Set-Up & Punchline / Tension & Release
Joke structure is simple: the set-up creates tension, the punchline releases it.
When I’m on stage I sometimes say, “By the way, I’m a pastor.” Silence. (A pastor at a comedy show? Tension.) Then I add, “Don’t worry—I’m not here to judge you or force my religion on you… but let’s continue with a word of prayer.” Release.
But this isn’t just a comedy trick—it’s the rhythm of great preaching. You can literally use it when you’re preaching on a heavy topic and the room gets quiet. Try simply naming it: “Wow, it sure got quiet in here.” That honest moment usually gets a laugh—and more importantly, it releases the tension so people can breathe and keep listening. They’ll appreciate that you felt the tension they were feeling.
In a broader sense, tension and release is what gives a sermon its movement. It’s what keeps it from being all funny, all serious, all theology, or all cat stories. The best sermons weave those together, creating waves of tension and release that carry people on a journey—and keep them engaged.
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6. The Comedian’s Notebook
Every comedian keeps a notebook of ideas, premises, and stories. Why? Because nine times out of ten, you’ll forget if you don’t write it down.
I don’t carry a physical notebook, but I do keep a Google Doc called “sermon ideas.” Anytime I hear a quote, notice a story, or even have a random thought that might connect someday, I drop it in there. Later, when I sit down to write, I have a bank of material waiting for me.
This habit doesn’t just stockpile ideas—it trains me to pay attention. Over time, my brain has gotten better at noticing moments in everyday life and thinking, “That’ll preach!”
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7. “Let’s Have a Round of Applause For…”
If you’ve ever been to a live comedy show, you’ve probably noticed that every comic begins by saying, “Let’s have a round of applause for [the last comedian].” It’s not just politeness—it’s a built-in call-and-response. You give the audience a cue, they respond together, and suddenly they’re participating. It’s a small but powerful way to build trust and show you can guide the room.
Our worship services are naturally full of examples of this. “Please stand for the reading of the Gospel.” “The Lord be with you.” Even a simple “Good morning!” followed by a collective “Good morning!” isn’t filler—it’s connection. It reminds the congregation they’re part of what’s happening, not just watching it.
What if we brought that same energy into the sermon?
“Show of hands if you’ve ever said something you regretted.”
“Let’s read this verse together.”
Or, the most dreaded for introverts: “Turn to your neighbor and answer this question.”
These small moments of interaction pull people out of passive listening and invite them into shared discovery—where a sermon isn’t something you deliver, but something you experience together.
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(Plus, thankfully, there’s always next week!)
8. Bombing
In comedy, when things go badly, we call it bombing. And every preacher has bombed.
The beautiful thing is that preaching comes with a safety net: the Holy Spirit. I’ve had sermons that felt flat—people yawning, checking their watches—only to have someone say afterward, “That was exactly what I needed to hear.”
Not every sermon will be your best. But God can take your flop of a sermon and make it work.
(Plus, thankfully, there’s always next week!)
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Closing
Doing stand-up comedy hasn’t just made me funnier in the pulpit—it’s made me more engaging. Comedians don’t step on stage hoping for the best; they prepare, practice, and refine so they can connect. Bringing that same intentionality to preaching has brought me more joy—and led my congregation to listen, laugh, and lean in.
So no, you don’t need to become a stand-up comedian (though if you try it, I’m cheering you on!). But borrow a few of these comedian tricks, and you’ll be ready not just to step into the pulpit, but to truly stand-up and preach.
