Conversation on the Way to the Abby

One evening during our stay in Iona I walked with friends to the Abby for the evening worship service. The conversations on the way were light, and I mentioned to my friends that I loved Jesus' sense of humor. "Oh yes," responded one of them; "Jesus could tell a good one!" He said this in his fake Irish accent.  Of course I went on the defensive. "Well, what about calling Simon by the name Peter?? Don't you think a chorus of laughter would follow given his tumultuous personality? He wasn't a rock! He was an ocean wave, or a vulcano, or hurricane!" My friend's mocking smile widened. I continued; "Calling him Peter would be like calling me Book Keeper or Math Teacher or French Linguist." My friend agreed that those names for me would be funny.  

Scripture appeals to the whole created person in all her characteristics, and as I read I sometimes find myself smiling and, sometimes, laughing. Especially as I read the gospels. There's probably more to appreciate than I get, but that could be because I'm more religiously and seriously oriented when it comes to church than looking for a laugh. Like many in my faith tradition, I was taught early that it's not appropriate to laugh in church. Whether or not this idea was meant to leach into my experience with reading Scripture, it did.

While reading the parable of the seed and the sower recently, I wondered the disciple's 'tone' when they later asked Jesus what the story meant. Surely everyone present to the teaching knew what happens to seeds when they hit the dirt. Even the youngest child would understand that when seeds are scattered, some will surely fall on hard ground, some in shallow places, among weeds and thorns-- and that some will find good soil in which to root, sprout and bear fruit. It's even possible that as Jesus told the story, there may have been a farmer in sight broadcasting seed--who knows? Maybe Jesus told that story because there was a nearby farmer broadcasting. I wonder if Jesus' disciples expressed frustration as they questioned him: if they reminded him that everyone knows about seeds!" But Jesus reveals (again) how wonderfully fundamental the most simple of stories and illustrations can be. It's my conviction, however, that the story exchange may have provoked some laughter in the group.

Madeleine L'Engle, author of Wrinkle in Time, Wind at the Door and scores of other books, agrees that there is much delightful humor to be caught everywhere, even in the Bible. In Walking on Water she writes:"It was the scientists, with their questions, their awed rapture at the glory of the created universe, who helped to convert me. In a sense, A Wrinkle in Time was my rebuttal to the German theologians. It was also my affirmation of a universe in which I could take note of all the evil and unfairness and horror, and yet believe in a loving Creator. I thought of it, at that time, as probably a very heretical book, theologically speaking, which is a delightful little joke at my expense, because it is, I have been told, theologically a completely orthodox book. The Holy Spirit has a definite sense of humor."

Quoting George MacDonald, the 19th century Scottish pastor, L'Engle writes, "It is the Heart that is not yet sure of its God that is afraid to laugh in his presence. It's all part of what helps keep us in proportion; we can best take ourselves seriously if we are free to laugh at ourselves, and to enjoy the laughter of God and his angels. As William Temple remarked, 'It is a great mistake to think that God is chiefly interested in religion.'"

L'Engle also quotes someone whose name she can't remember: "The saints and artists are those who not only accept, but rejoice in the incongruity and so learn that laughter is holy. The infinite disparity between God's love and man's desserts is an indubitable fact; the saint embraces it for joy. The greater the incongruity, the more wonderful the love and mercy of God. The saint does not call himself a worm because he enjoys being wormy, but because there is simply no other way graphic enough to express the richness of God and the meagreness of men."

One more from Ms. L'Engle: "I'm grateful once again that I went to my Bible stories with no preconceptions, because many of them are hilarious. If I'm depressed, or out of sorts with God and man, all I have to do is read the Book of Jonah. And surely God was amused at some of his early conversations with Moses. "Who am I?" Moses asks. And God replies, "Certainly I will go with you." Many of the parables make sense only if we realize that Jesus was telling a funny story to make his point, a funny story that was supposed to be greeted with a laugh, like the story of the judge and the importunate widow. And what about exaggeration for effect? Jesus wasn't afraid of hyperbole. What about the camel going through the eye of the needle? Or the man with the beam in his own eye who doesn't see the mote in his brother's?"

Maybe the reason we don't find some of these stories funny is because we've become prematurely old and hardened in our approach to the stories. It might be wise of us to consider that no matter how old we become chronologically, we are still very young and small as we stand before God, Ancient of Days. And if that is true, perhaps God weighs our words, thoughts and actions as a mother and father does their children's or grandchildren's. I have from time to time thought of young Adam and Even naming animal, vegetable, mineral in Eden, and have wondered if God was amused to hear the names given to each. In our family, whatever name the kid gave a person, place or thing, that would be its name--at least in our memories. forever. Forever call the meal "pusketti, play "pipanos" and pick "fivias"--my son's Kyle's word for flowers, a mystery that took us all quite awhile to solve. When she was two and a half, my first granddaughter Lucy called me "Bobo" and I allowed it* because that was the name she had given me. There's no doubt in my mind that laughter was heard in the Garden, even, and maybe most especially, from God.

How fascination to see humor develop alongside Lucy "s exploding vocabulary as she learns to communicate with words. And why not? Her most frequently asked question is, "What's this?" Her sense of humor, however, was intact before she ever said a word.  Once while I was babysitting I called Lucy by her sister Lily's name. "No!" she protested. "That Lily!" she said, and pointing to her nine-month old sister whom I was holding. "I Lulu!" "Ok, sorry, " I said, but called her Lily again and again against her laughing protest. But all of the sudden, she reversed herself; "No! I Lily. That Lulu ," she said, once again pointing to Lily and shrieking with laughter as I took the other side of the pretend argument., and for about a half an hour Lucy insisted that she was Lily and her baby sister was Lulu. With absolutely no confusion I witnessed a baby join in a joke, proving (as far as I'm concerned!) that we're hard-wired to laugh.

Most of us appreciate knowing that Jesus wept. Such a human response to sorrow is evidence that he, Son of God, is also one with us in every human experience. If we believe that Jesus could or would cry, can't we also believe that Jesus also laughed, whether or not a Bible verse said he did?

We all wait for the day to come when tears and everything that causes them will be wiped away. While this world is yet a Vale of Tears, we only know it to be so in contrast to joy and laughter we also know. For now we weep with those who weep and laugh with those who laugh, believing that heaven which laughed first will laugh last.