Shared Laughter: A Missing Vital Sign
Has shared laughter gone into hiding? Shared laughter has become a stranger to our nation and the church. I miss the merry heart, spoken of in Proverbs 17. Expressions of common joy are secluded, perhaps kidnapped or a part of a gaiety-witness-protection-program buried underground somewhere. Shared laughter, healing laughter, earnest and sustained laughter, seems hard to find.
I still laugh, but too often alone… or with people who think much like me. Such singular pleasure is a place to begin. Small signs of whimsy, mirth and delight are starting places. When I miss those, I quickly get lost in my prejudices and despair. I lose the lightheartedness that can serve as a lubricant to God’s desired wholeheartedness for me. A little laughter keeps my ideological GPS in tune and my prejudice-constructed life-maps from being read upside down. Recently I had a reminder of such a gift.
On a winding road in central Kentucky, the junction ahead at first confused me, then delighted. I could turn left and go NORTH or turn right and go… uh… NORTH. And the path straight ahead (NORTH by the way) was posted with a NO TRESPASSING sign.
If I wished to go NORTH, which way should I go? I laughed out loud. This reminded me of the certainty as to direction I hear from pundits and preachers who speak confidently of the only true way forward — their way. Traveling this day and familiar with this particular road, I knew the path I would take. I wondered about others who followed, who arrive at this junction — first timers.
I believe the certainty, that there is only one way, a best and only road ahead puts the nation, and the church, in hands of humorless demagogues. For our nation such certainty means that every choice is binary with no ability to value and learn from those who have different perspectives or life experiences. Any sense of a commonweal is set aside. In the church such certainty turns the theological task into a marshaling of doctrinaire pronouncements. Instead of theology being “faith in search of understanding” we have one narrow set of understandings setting the limits of our faith. Not much shared joy here. I believe laughter can be medicine for the soul and oxygen for a suffocating nation and church.
On my wall is Wendell Berry’s poem, Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front. Near the end, he counsels, “Laugh. Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful even when you have considered all the facts.”
I am asking what has happened to shared laughter — among friends and with those who disagree? I don’t mean the little individual chuckles coming from late-night television parodies or the smile after reading ironic memes about the state of the nation. I mean the sense of well-being that is born of a shared hope beyond our calculations. What I miss is the ability to laugh at ourselves, to visit with others who may hold differing opinions and enjoy each other’s company. It is the joy of discourse and community that is creative and constructive and larger than our personal prejudices and proclivities. Laughter is not sufficient for our salvation but I believe it may be a necessary vestibule to hope and renewal in finding a way forward.
Aimee Laramore writing in the March 7, 2018 blog Voices on Stewardship helps me when she writes, “The great theologian Dave Chappelle introduced a concept that made me laugh out loud when he spoke about imperfect allies. In his most recent special, he offers a poignant description of not understanding some of the differences in societal demographics and ended with his personal truth on the matter. Is it possible in our faith communities to be honest about the things we don’t understand? He repeatedly said, “I don’t want to harm you. I want to support you. I just don’t understand you.” I believe we should do a lot more earnest laughing about our own discomfort about diversity in giving. At the very least, a heartfelt response is authentic.”
Laughter is the no-man’s land between cynicism and contrition.” In his Children of Light, Children of Darkness, Niebuhr argues “Humour is, in fact, a prelude to faith; and laughter is the beginning of prayer… Laughter is swallowed up in prayer and humour is fulfilled by faith.”
In an effort to offer something constructive for churches (and our society) I recently wrote a paper on what I see as the mistaken, and humorless efforts to repair the church by implementing certain business practices. This is a well-meaning effort but of little purchase if it simply is composed of one perspective, outside of dialogue with those who view the church differently (see: FruitFixPubShare02-01-18). My long and rather tedious musings needed the benefit of EARNEST LAUGHTER WITH IMPERFECT ALLIES.
I did find a chuckle when I read a quote from St. Louis area United Methodist pastor Diana Kenaston who captured my paper’s conclusions when she wrote:
“So we look at statistics and we call them ‘vital signs.’ We commission a report and draw an electrocardiogram on the front.”
In two sentences, Rev. Kenaston covered what took sixteen pages and forty-nine footnotes for me to say… and this without ever reading my paper! I LAUGHED.
I knew my research paper was insufficient. (Even so, I inflicted it upon many friends and my students.) Reading Diana’s quote helped. However, some other uncommon laughter was needed. Some candor from imperfect allies might help. The ability to learn of my mistaken understandings, and laugh with those who had another view, might help each. Until then I don’t believe much progress is made.
Might I sit with those who disagree and talk, and learn? Might we make a common alliance to agree to disagree? Until then, good as any research might be, it would be of modest value. Yes, I have reached out to my imperfect allies — several times asking to hear from them. Might those who offer their products, known as “fruitful congregation” initiatives be open to dialogue that might lead to understanding? As yet, no response to my multiple requests. Still waiting. Even more, I am eager to experience a little shared laughter.
Until then, or even if such shared conversation never arrives, I am helped by the poetry of the fourteenth-century Dominican mystic Meister Eckhart. He gives me a joy-filled perspective at this junction for our society and church.
Do you want to know
what goes on in the core of the Trinity?
I will tell you.
In the core of the Trinity
The Father laughs
and gives birth to the Son.
The Son laughs back at the Father
and gives birth to the Spirit.
The whole Trinity laughs
and gives birth to us.
[Meister Eckhart, Meditations with Meister Eckhart, translation and editor Matthew Fox (Bear and Company: 1983), p. 129.