Thirteen years ago, I arrived at Old Mission Santa Barbara and spent a month there praying, reflecting, sharing, and conversing with other monks who, like me then, were preparing to take solemn vows at the end of that summer.
June 29, 2024
Young people laugh with priests during FIAT, the largest English-language event for World Youth Day, in Panama City on Jan. 23, 2019. In addition to musical performances and testimonies, the event also featured frank discussions of the clergy sex abuse scandal. (CNS/Chaz Muth)
Father Daniel P. Horan
Thirteen years ago, I arrived at Old Mission Santa Barbara and spent a month there praying, reflecting, sharing, and dialogue with other friars who, like me then, were preparing to take solemn vows at the end of that summer. Over the course of a weekend, about half a dozen friars from across the country gathered at the retreat center. We began to get to know each other over meals and conversations, realizing that our differences in age, ethnic background, place of origin, and province of origin (the Franciscan Order has since been reorganized into a single U.S. province) outweighed our commonalities.
The last monk to arrive had experienced severe travel delays and was late to our first full day together. He settled in quickly, but after dinner, when we began our evening tradition of sitting together as a group to tell stories and play board games, this monk looked me straight in the eye and said, “You’re not the kind of person I expected!”
I was a little surprised and confused. He went on to explain that he had read some of my scholarly articles on medieval Franciscan theology and had imagined the author as being more subdued, perhaps even somber and stiff, or typical of a “serious person.”
What he encountered was anything but. I often describe myself as a goofy guy who likes to laugh and make people laugh, who enjoys jokes and good puns. I love comedy in its various forms, especially the more ridiculous kinds, and this monk liked that about me, but it took him a while to reconcile what he had assumed about me in the abstract with the image of the hilarious, funny person he now knows.
Admittedly, I am a serious person in many ways: I take my work, my faith, and issues of justice and peace seriously, but I try not to take myself too seriously.
Even now, many years later, that encounter has stayed with me for a few reasons. First, it gave me a little insight into how quickly we assume we know someone based on limited information we have from afar. We sometimes assume we know someone quickly, even though we’ve never met them in person, simply because we’ve read their work, followed them on social media, or seen them on TV. It’s natural to want to evaluate, categorize, and judge people without making the effort to get to know them.
Another reason this exchange stuck with me is because it illustrates how some people think about the relationship between humor and spirituality. From this perspective, comedy and laughter are inherently non-serious and may be antithetical to the practice of faith.
I believe this view is mistaken and leads to well-intentioned religious people disparaging comedy movies and TV shows, stand-up comedy performances, and even the telling of jokes.
There is something inherently spiritual and relational about the act of laughing. Laughing, perhaps second only to eating, requires a unique vulnerability. You must let your guard down in front of other people—whether it’s a movie theater, a stand-up comedy club, or a stranger in the office break room—and feel comfortable enough to abandon yourself to a moment of shared lightness that results in an instinctive physical, emotional, mental, and (if I would argue) spiritual response.
Regular readers of my column may not be surprised that I find myself inclined to quote the great 20th-century Jesuit theologian, Father Karl Rahner. Father Rahner wrote a short essay on laughter. Like me, after reflecting on an encounter with a brother monk, Father Rahner wondered whether laughter and humor are contrary to authentic spirituality. What Father Rahner had in mind was “the real laughter, the resounding laughter, the kind of laughter that makes one bend over and slap one’s thighs, the kind of laughter that brings tears to the eyes, the laughter that accompanies a sharp joke, the laughter that reflects the fact that man is undoubtedly childish and infantile.”
With this sense of out-loud humor in mind, he writes:
The question is simply this: should a spiritual man rightly question this laughter, should he attack it as being contrary to his dignity? No, it is not! Let us explain and justify this laughter, and it will, with a smile, tell us something very serious.
Lanner further states that laughter is above all an affirmation of humanity: the Bible tells us, “A time to weep, and a time to laugh” (Ecclesiastes 3:4), and he points out that both of these acts are perfect expressions of humanity and forms of praise to God, because “laughter makes man human.”
He also says that laughter is a sign of love, because it requires a certain empathy: we must empathize with the person who tells the joke, who shares the story, who enjoys comedy and entertainment, and our response through laughter is an expression of solidarity and love.
God laughs too, Rahner asserts. He “laughs at the laughter of the easy-going, the self-confident, the fearless.” Of course, this makes sense, since God enjoys the world and shares in us the divine joy that is reflected in the truly humorous and joyful experience of laughter. Laughter, Rahner says, is spiritual in this sense too, because our laughter is “a tender echo of God’s laughter.”
Laughter is a gift from God and reminds us that we should be witnesses to his joy in a world that is no more than an echo chamber of misery, division and gloom. This is necessary not only in the wider society but also in our Churches. Seriousness and sincerity are no obstacle to humor and laughter. Pope Francis has modeled this many times in his public speeches and in his natural interactions, especially with children (who never take themselves too seriously) and other joyful people.
Today, in the world and in our faith communities, we continue to face many difficulties, divisions, and challenges, but I believe it is good to take time to laugh, especially with others.
Whatever you do, remember that laughing is a deeply spiritual act and a form of glorifying God, and it’s something we should do as often as possible. –NCR
