Holy Humor

Maybe my funny-bone just doesn’t tickle the way most of current North American culture does.  I have never found CBS’s “Two and a Half Men” to be even slightly laughable despite my affection for Duckie… I mean Jon Cryer.  Strangely enough, the program has ranked high in the ratings for years.  Charlie Sheen’s behavior, however, is ranking worse than “not funny” and has moved over into the “downright disturbing.”  Is it some sort of drug-induced psychosis? 

Despite my lack of affection for sitcoms these days, I do love shows that make me laugh.  Guess it’s a sign of aging, but I long for the golden days of The Cosby Show and Family Ties, or even Ally McBeal or Everybody Loves Raymond. 

This week, I came across a lovely little comedy called “Drop Dead Diva.”  Have you heard of it?  I missed it when it premiered on Lifetime last year.  Now, please understand, most of the time, Lifetime nauseates me.  While it bills as television for women, most often the programs seem to encourage women to stay in unhealthy relationships of all sorts.  But Drop Dead Diva is good.  It’s the story of Deb, a beauty-queen wanna-be model who dies, goes to heaven, and in a strange turn of events is able to return to Earth.  Mishaps happen, of course, and as Deb inhales her new first breath, it is in the body of a lawyer who is anything but a pageant-circuit kind of gal.  Jane’s no-nonsense, brainy approach to life has made her a superb legal eagle.  You see the comedic potential.  If you don’t get Lifetime, let me recommend Netflix for instant viewing.  Lifetime has accomplished something beautiful here.  It’s not only funny but it’s poignant as Deb figures out how to be more than beauty.  She goes from a life of zero positive or negative contributions to a woman who contributes and experiences a range of blessings and challenges.

Comedian and author, Eric Idle writes: 

At least one way of measuring the freedom of any society is the amount of comedy that is permitted, and clearly a healthy society permits more satirical comment than a repressive, so that if comedy is to function in some way as a safety release then it must obviously deal with these taboo areas. This is part of the responsibility we accord our licensed jesters, that nothing be excused the searching light of comedy. If anything can survive the probe of humour it is clearly of value, and conversely all groups who claim immunity from laughter are claiming special privileges which should not be granted.

This cultural core of comedy is the reason that Jon Stewart hosts the number-one rated news program.  With his wit he succeeds in influencing society more than any other newscaster at this time.  Wisdom flows from humor, in this case.

Which brings me around to humor in the faith-sphere.  If Easter weren’t so late this year (it’s the absolute latest possible date – April 24), my parish would have celebrated  Holy Humor Sunday on the Sabbath closest to April Fools’.  We’re talking good clean jokes.  Divine humor (after all God spoke through a donkey, Balaam’s ass, to be precise.  Playful clothing and music.  Alas, it will have to wait until next year.  We’ll be in the middle of the Seven Deadly Sins instead, this year.

In the realm of religion, we often take ourselves all too seriously.  After all, we hammer into one another’s head that the only thing of lasting significance is spiritual.  The responsibility of sharing the Gospel is, indeed, a joyful and burdensome thing.  As a result, musicians through the generations have created beautiful works to tell the gospel story.  But seldom with humor.  Always aiming at conviction, there is little room for laughter.

So the oratorio, “Not the Messiah:  He’s a Very Naughty Boy” is a welcome piece of comedy.  You’ll hear overtones of Handel, Mozart, nine lessons and carols, and even Bob Dylan.  A musical setting of “the Life of Brian,” the film is a delight:  gorgeous symphony, gifted soloists, mass choir, and the goofiness of Monty Python all rolled into one.