THE GOD OF LAUGHTER -- Alan Reynolds

Abram the Bedouin lived on the caravan route between the two great centers of civilization and commerce of his ancient time (Syria and Egypt). Of course he met many travellers and traders and would welcome them to his tents with his best Bedouin hospitality.  In the exchange of introductions he would give his name -- Abram, which meant "father of many."  And the natural response would be, "Tell us, O father of many, how many sons do you have?"  And poor Abram would be forced to reply, "None."  One can almost hear the snort of suppressed laughter which Abram, so many times over the years, must have found so very humiliating.

It was especially difficult because Abram claimed that he had been promised by the God he served, Yahweh, the "Lord," that his descendants would number as the sand, and that he, Abram, would be fruitful and multiply and be, not just the "father of many" but even the "father of many nations."

Even when he was 99 years old, and Sarah his wife 90 years old, Abram claimed that the Lord appeared to him and repeated the promise.  The story tells us that Abram, the man noted in the New Testament for his faith, fell on his face laughing.

To make matters worse, God told Abram to change his name to Abraham, meaning "father of a multitude."  Imagine what probably happened when the old man called together the members of his tribe, nieces and nephews, servants and their families, and said to them, "The Lord has told me to change my name."  You can hear them saying behind their hands to one another, "Well the old man has finally come to his senses and given up.  Thank goodness we won't have to explain anymore why a man with no children calls himself 'father of many.'"

So they waited to hear the new name.  "Henceforth," the old man pronounced, "I am to be called Abraham" (which means "father of a multitude").

Imagine the stunned silence, and later, in the privacy of their own quarters, the secret laughter.  Imagine Sarah remonstrating, "You old fool, it was bad enough before.  Why did you go and make it worse? Imagine how it makes me feel!"

Finally, when the messengers of the Lord came to Abraham by the "oaks of Mamre" where he sat by his tent in the shade, to tell him that within the year Sarah would bear a son, Sarah, eavesdropping from within the tent, was overheard to laugh.  Not just a giggle, but no doubt an honest-to-goodness belly laugh that couldn't be disguised as anything but what it was.  How embarrassing for Abraham, trying to be the good host and act with due seriousness in such a ridiculous situation.  And his wife, to be the bearer of the promise, guffawing in the hearing of his guests.

When the boy was born, they didn't get very pious and call him "promised of God," or "miracle child of our old age."  No, they named him as God had commanded, "Isaac," which means "Laughter."  As Sarah said, "God has made Laughter for me!"

And the Lord also, who might be thought to be above such casual humour, seemed actually to relish it.  Down the generations following, God kept reminding His people of it (they seemed to forget so often). "I am the God of Laughter," the Lord would say, "the God of Abraham, Laughter and Jacob."

Isn't it strange, when laughter is written not only into our very nature but into the very Word of God, that we should so often picture God as solemn and sober, somber and even sour.  Oh, let's not take away the seriousness of God's judgement or the reality of suffering. But let us remember that God is quite evidently a God who loves laughter.

We can, no doubt, blame our Puritan forefathers for such a somber attitude to religion, and serious men and women they were. Edward Irving wrote, "Laughter is a kind of bacchanalian state of the mind just as drunkenness is a bacchanalian state of the body."  Some of the Puritans refused to gaze on flowers, since they were "worldly things." And the 17th century pietist, August Francke, forbade children in his orphanages to smile, as he regarded humour and laughter as irreverent.

Remember that the Puritans had their reasons.  Life was a serious business in those days, full of hard labour, dangerous and mysterious diseases, and stern justice.  Then too, Puritanism itself was a reaction against the corruption of the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras, when humour gave way to debauchery and mirth to riot.  In their righteous zeal, the Puritans closed the theatres and forbade the celebration of Christmas.

Before we condemn the excesses of our Puritan forefathers, let us remember how far we have allowed the pendulum to swing again to the same extremes.  Have you listened lately to some of the nite-club humorists, or attended a movie in the last twenty years?

But still, surely laughter has its place and purpose in God's plan -- and perhaps a very central and important place. Laughter is written into nature.  It was Abraham Lincoln who said something like, "God must have meant us to laugh, or He wouldn't have created mules, monkeys, and men."  Whether we go to the zoo to laugh at the duck-billed, web-footed, flat-tailed platypus, or watch in our kitchen a kitten playing with a ball of yarn, we find much in nature and in natural life to make us laugh.

Dear God, we make you so solemn,
So stiff and old and staid,
How can we be so stupid
When we look at the things you've made?

Who watches the ostrich swallow,
Then doubts that You like to play,
Or questions your sense of humour
Hearing a donkey bray?

Could the God who made the monkey
Have forgotten how to laugh?
Or the one who striped the zebra
And stretched out the giraffe?

How could a solemn person
Fashion a pelican?
Or a perfectly sober Creator
Ever imagine a man?
(Helen Salsbury)

There is humour in the Bible too, so much of it, and so little of it recognized.  Isaiah laughed at those who spent money and effort to have an idol built "of a wood that will not rot," cast about with silver chains and fancy decorations, but then had to nail it down carefully so that it didn't fall over (Isaiah 40).

Read the story of Jacob (Genesis 27f.)  Imagine how the people loved to tell this story, and how the children loved to hear it.  Imagine how they laughed as they told of the one whose name meant "supplanter," born the second of twins but clutching on to his brother's heel  even in birth.  How he clothed himself in sheepskin to fool his blind old father into giving him the blessing reserved forthe first-born.  How he worked for seven years to earn the beautiful Rachel for his bride, only to lift the veil to find that he had married her older sister, Leah! How he engaged in such a war of wits with his father-in-law that they finally had to agree to part.  They agreed on a "line of demarcation" and there they built a cairn as a divider, agreeing that neither would step over the line.  And just to make sure, they repeated together, "The Lord watch between me and thee while we are absent one from the other."  In other words, a formula of mutual mistrust: "Remember, when I can't keep an eye on you, the Lord is watching what you're up to."

In the New Testament, we have the instance of Paul preaching at such length to the elders at Ephesus than one of the congregation fell asleep and fell out of an upper-story window.

Or there's the instance of four friends tearing up the roof of a house in order to lay at the feet of Jesus the one who couldn't walk! Or little Zacchaeus climbing the sycamore tree.

Remember how often Jesus used humour in his teaching.  There was the man with the great plank in his own eye trying to take a speck out of another's eye. Or the person who put the candle under the basket instead of on a stand.  Or the camel trying to get through the eye of the needle. Or Solomon worrying about his wardrobe while the flowers, a million strong in their finery, fluttered carelessly in the field.

There is ample evidence of Jesus' suffering, of His sorrow for our blindness and sin.  The shortest verse in the Bible is, "Jesus wept." But there is also ample evidence that Jesus was one who had a sense of humour and enjoyed laughter.  John's disciples, they said, fasted and prayed, while Jesus' disciples feasted and danced.

"The foolishness of God is wiser than the wisdom of men," wrote the apostle Paul.  He wasn't talking about anything light. He was talking about the cross.  Yet, even here, in the end, is a kind of laughter.

"He who sits in the heavens laughs," says the second Psalm, and there does seem to be a kind of resurrection laughter that even the most sordid and tragic of our human circumstances, seen from theperspective of the fulfillment of God's purposes, may be an occasion for laughter.  Surely we do not believe that, in the end, it's the devil who gets the last laugh.

In Lazarus Laughed, the play he forgot when he wrote "Long Day's Journey Into Night," Eugene O'Neill pictured Lazarus, risen from the grave, going about laughing.  "There is only life," he says, "I heard the heart of Jesus laughing in my heart . . . and I laughed in the laughter of God." The crowds catch the spirit and begin to chant, "Laugh!  Laugh!  Laugh with Lazarus!  Fear is no more!  There is no death!"

At the climax of the play, Lazarus faces Caesar, laughs at his threats, and is put to death -- still laughing.

God grant us grace so to understand the power of God that we may
place ourselves in God's hands, not in fear and trembling, but with
the laughter of little children and the confidence of those who know
that the Victory has been won.

Not merely in the words you say,
Not only in your deeds confessed,
But in the most unconscious way
Is Christ confessed.

Is it a beatific smile?
A holy light upon your brow?
Ah no -- I felt God's presence while
You laughed just now!
(Beatrice Cleland)

Laugh a little, laugh a lot--Gibson

A day without laughter is a wasted one, they say. Read this, and you won’t waste today.

My friend Karla* and her husband lived in the country and owned a pair of very large dogs. The pups often brought their kind owners small “gifts” collected while roaming outdoors.

One evening one of the dogs found a special prize, and rushed into the house to present it. But no one seemed to be about so the dog went hunting, his gift in his mouth. He searched the kitchen, the living room and bedroom.

When the pup finally found Karla, he dumped the present in her lap and waited for praise.

Just one problem: Karla was busy. In the washroom. Actually, when the pup barged in, she was soaking in a tub full of bubbles. And she had never had a bath with a muskrat before.

Especially not a live one.

It’s likely safe to say that the reverse was also true for the muskrat.

What happened next is a little unclear. As I recall the story, my startled friend did what came naturally—hollered and leapt out. Unfortunately, so did the muskrat. The two of them stood dripping and screaming at each other for a millisecond, then took off in opposite directions.

I laughed so hard when I first heard that tale I was sure I’d loosened something vital. Medical science tells me what I really did: decreased my stress hormones and raised my immune-boosting ones. People who laugh often, scientists tell us, may also be at less risk for depression, heart disease and osteoporosis.

The Preacher and I spend time with another set of friends almost every weekend. We seldom leave each other without having had at least one great laugh. But on our last evening together, fatigue dampened our conversation. Laughter seemed far off.

Late in the evening, the conversation circled to spring flooding and the topic of dams. That was when I recalled the dam letters—a now infamous exchange of words between the State of Michigan and Stephen Tvedten.

Beavers had built a dam across a spring on Tvedten’s country property. When a neighbour complained, the state charged Tvedten with “illegal dam activity.” Tvedten’s letter of response and creative use of the word “dam” caused a brouhaha that quickly went viral on the internet.

I located the dam letters online and read them aloud. In the space of a minute, a table of four tired and slightly cranky people transitioned to just shy of fall-down-and-slap-your-hands-on-the-floor kind of guffaws. We parted light hearted—lifted by laughter.

King Solomon, author of the book of Proverbs, spoke several times in chapters 15, 16, and 17 about the connection between joy and laughter and health. You likely know one of those verses: “A merry heart is like good medicine, but a broken spirit dries out bones.”

If anyone has reason for laughter, it’s Christ’s followers. People of purpose, people of destiny: laugh a little. Laugh a lot. It does The Body—and spirit good.

*not her actual name

***

Kathleen Gibson, faith and life columnist and author

www.kathleengibson.ca/sunnysideup

Sweet Words - Belec

Miss J

   Babies and children warm my heart. God sure knew what He was doing when he created these lovable little sugar lumps. Of course [slightly biased here] my own little granddaughter, Miss J, is a glowing example of lovability.

Thankfully, my daughter works for me so I get the privilege of seeing 2 year old Miss J often.

Sometimes Miss J says the darndest things. Like today...

'Amanda Mommy' and I were rushing around getting some office work done and Jocelyn was trying to help.

"Where's your fat machine?" asked Miss J.

Amanda and I screeched to a halt. Fat machine? What did my darling little granddaughter mean? Had she spotted my expanding girth? Had she seen my vain attempts at sit-ups on my slightly deflated exercise ball? Did she over hear me the other day when I asked Papere to bring up my stepper from the basement?

"No rush," I had said at the time.

After Miss J's comment, I  thought perhaps I should put a rush on and get my 'fat machine' out of the basement, pronto.

The sweet little bairn did not give up either. Mommy and I, in between fits of laughter, tried to figure out what she was referring to; then the lights came on. Fax machine...not Fat machine! Miss J pointed to the multipurpose printer/copier/scanner & Fax on my desk. I breathed a great sigh of relief; and then Mommy and I guffawed once more!

No sooner had I recovered from the trauma of darling Miss J's fat/fax machine fiasco, then the little scrumptious munchkin wanted to tickle. So we did.

"Are you made of playdough?" was the next probing question to proffer forth from her cherub lips, as she tickled me all over. Thank goodness I was already on the floor. Momma bear stopped messing with the fax machine and joined us on the floor. We laughed for ten minutes. Jocelyn, oblivious to what we were laughing at, thought that this lovely game of tickle was just what she ordered.

 God is amazing. He has blessed us with children because he loves us. What joy fills my heart when I am in the presence of a child. I learn so much. I especially learn how to laugh. Jesus loves the little children, and so do I! So do I!

Now I am off to the basement...

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."  Matthew 19:14

Laugh and the World Laughs With You...

This article first appeared in Dramascene newsletter in March 2008.

Should humor onstage be reserved for children's plays? After all cutesy little girls and boys can get away with it, right? It doesn't say anywhere in the Bible that Jesus actually laughed. Aren't we supposed to be like Jesus? Does that mean that as writers of Christian plays, we should only write serious stuff?

I have a hard time believing that Jesus did not laugh. I have done a

search and it’s true what people say about there not being any Biblical proof. There really is no reference where Jesus actually let out a guffaw.

There also is no reference to Jesus combing his hair, going to the bathroom, having a bath or even smiling. But I'd like to bet a peanut butter and cheese sandwich that he did each of these things. And come to think of it, what little children would come unto Jesus if He had a long face and a seriously furrowed brow? It's been my experience that children run a mile from such a countenance.

A child in Jesus' presence must have sensed love to the extreme when they looked at Jesus. He genuinely cared about the children and their seemingly insignificant [at least to the disciples] desires. The children clearly loved this smiling Jesus.

I picture Jesus with a sparkle in his eye and a warm open smile. I can almost envision the children running to Jesus. How could he not laugh aloud? They clamoured to be with Him and tried to find ways to get around the tough old disciples. But Jesus, who was calling the shots, had to have given a reassuring smile to the children as He said, "…Let the little children come to me, and don't prevent them. For of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.” Matthew 19:14. TLB

There is nothing wrong with laughter or desiring to use humor in a play. Humor engages the audience and can be an outlet for serious emotion. It is important, however, that in our attempt at writing humor into a play of Christian proportions, that we do not damage the credibility of God or His representatives. Humor should be purposeful and not derogatory or deprecating in any manner. In fact, I will go one step further and encourage writers to not use this kind of humor [although it is sadly prevalent on the big and little screens today] in anything they write – biblical or otherwise.

Unfortunately, some have difficulty hearing the laughter of Jesus because too often He is portrayed as a stern, authoritative person, stoic in appearance and pokerfaced in response. But, excuse me, people. Jesus embodied humanity. He was put on this earth so that He could experience what we experience. He cried. He felt sorrow. He demonstrated anger and He displayed deep compassion. He got excited. He experienced trepidation. And He laughed.

Jesus used sarcasm, puns, enigmas and paradoxes as he communicated. We need to understand how and when to effectively use them, too. Remember the sarcastic comment Jesus made to his disciples and the gathered people about snakes and stones? The conversation was serious in tone but Jesus used a sarcastic line or two to make the people sit up and think. “If a child asks his father for a loaf of bread, will he be given a stone instead? If he asks for fish, will he be given a poisonous snake?” Matthew 7:9-10 TLB. Can you envision the smile on His face as He spoke? What a funny guy Jesus must have been at times.

We need to study the parables and His teachings and see how he used these techniques to captivate His audience. Jesus' parables usually had an O. Henry surprise ending that would have left people chuckling. Jesus loved to use the absurd to make his point. Remember the camel going through the eye of a needle story? Now that's a bit of a knee slapper when you consider the futility of such a goal. Jesus had to have been parleying that one with a smile on his face.

In many of Jesus' communications, it becomes noticeable that He had a keen sense of humor. Sadly, we tend to take everything Jesus said so seriously and then we often miss the humor.

Jesus was no dreary and dull Messiah. His standard greeting to his disciples was, "Rejoice!” Isn‟t that a pretty obvious command to put on a happy face? And how could he possibly dish out that directive without a smile? A stern, wrinkled brow wouldn't have worked. A hearty laugh and beckoning arms raised heavenward is more how I picture it.

So whether you are concerned about injecting the occasional bit of humor into a play you are writing, or perhaps you are creating a full length comedy for an outreach, do it with Jesus in mind. Follow His example. He did smile. He had to. [I'm still laying my PB& C sandwich on the line.]

Our Creator God Himself willingly and purposefully gave us the gift and appreciation for discerning humor. He never once said, "Whoops,‟ as he looked upon and listened to the hearty laughter of His people.

Tasteful, well-timed humor written thoughtfully into a stage play can engage an audience and make characters come alive and seem real. People can relate. And there is nothing better than an audience being able to relate to something you have written to the glory of God.

(Photo: Granddaughter Jocelyn always makes me laugh!)

Laughter is a good tonic. God said so. “A cheerful heart does good like medicine...” Proverbs 17:22 TLB.

I know, I know…betting is not a Christian thing to do so I‟ll just keep my sandwich! I was just kidding anyway. Insert canned laughter here…

Laughing Out Loud

My list of favourite authors keeps growing as I open myself to read across genres in both fiction and non-fiction. However, my all time favourites remain those who can make me laugh out loud including Erma Bombeck, Phil Callaway, Stephen Leacock, and John Mortimer.

In an attempt to emulate these greats, I’ve added such how-to books as “Comedy Writing Secrets – the best-selling book on how to think funny, write funny, act funny, and get paid for it” by Mel Helitzer with Mark Shatz, and “How to Write Funny – Add humor to every kind of writing” edited by John B. Kachuba.

But, as I suspected, writing humour is more difficult than I had hoped. My novel-in-progress is a contemporary story about a separated mother dealing with her daughter’s recent disclosed secret. The tone is serious and contemplative. The subject is dark and ugly.

I believe it is a good story. It has strong characters, a fast pace and interesting plot. But then, I asked myself, “Is this the type of book I would pluck off the shelf?” and I hated to admit that it wouldn’t be.

So I’m back to the drawing board – or in this case, the keyboard. I want to give my protagonist a sense of humour. I want her to tackle the disclosure with a sense of comic relief. It’s proving tougher than I thought.

I’m open to suggestions and recommendations on how you would handle this.

Kimberley Payne
http://www.kimberleypayne.com/