They don't teach this kind of stuff in divinity school.

"Come along and sing a song and join the jamboree!" bellows the Rev. Tom Melton, surrounded on stage Sunday afternoon by a chorus line like no other.

Some of you know what's next:

"M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E," Melton roars, along with an eclectic Busby Berkeley mix of church elders and staff hoofing alongside him.

Welcome to the dress rehearsal for Greenwood Community Church's annual showbiz extravaganza, Club Valentino. Worship services have ended and the sanctuary has been turned into a gritty rehearsal hall for the 130-member cast and crew, composed of church elders, staff and their spouses. That buzz in the room? Maybe some stage nerves - the curtain goes up next weekend.

For some 18 years, Club Valentino, a comic review show (dinner included) has been the annual, Oscar-sized event at Greenwood. It's a chance for church leaders to goof off, family-style, to the flock, and to entertain newcomers and guests, all the while revealing a side of faith and spirituality that's invariably neglected. After all, "God's the one who invented fun," points out Melton, 60, a former comic and Denver radio personality, who originated the show. "He's the Lord of all - fun included."

And who, besides the Lord, do you think has the most fun? In other settings, Melton is lauded for his pastoral care and charismatic sermons, for his two master's degrees, his doctorate and a stint at Oxford.

But point him toward a stage and the guy just can't resist a pair of Mouseketeer ears.

"It literally turned heads around what church could be like," says elder Brad Behan, who, like Melton, was a radio jock.

The tickets, $30 this year, pay off the show's cost and dinner. Like every year, they're sold out, but the public is invited to the free 7 p.m. dress rehearsal on Wednesday at the church, 5600 E. Belleview Ave.

Each year, the theme changes. This year, it's Club Valentino - We Love L.A.!, which gives elders a chance to find their inner vaudevillian as well as belt out some grand Hollywood tunes.

"It's the ultimate spaz attack," jokes Chris Binkley, retired president and CEO of Kaiser Colorado, and now the church's chief administrator (and Roscoe the bailiff in a Judge Judy sketch). But seriously: "It's really an extravagant way of loving and that's what Jesus was about."

Club Valentino was a turning point for Greg Holroyd, 51. He hadn't been to church for 10 years when he was invited to a show. It gave him a new take on what a well-rounded faith could be like. That was five years ago. Today, he's an elder.

"It wasn't so stiff," he explains. "I really felt the Spirit was calling me here."