In my hubris, my first thought was ‘Shit. Is he talking about me?’
My next thought was of Woody Allen.
Woody has a famous joke from Annie Hall about how he’d ‘never want to belong to any organization that would have him as a member.’ I think it’s originally a Groucho joke (wag of the cigar, wag of the eyebrows).
A variant on that line of reasoning is my own struggles with being a pastor; namely, I don’t want to belong to any guild that would have YOU as a member.
Sounds harsh, I know, but what it comes down to in reality is just how incredibly, to-the-bone, reverently unfunny are most pastors.
I remember my first area clergy meeting when I pastored my first church part-time. All the pastors were making obvious churchy jokes, most of which had to do with church potlucks (do churches still do those?) and were no more sophisticated than knock-knock jokes. I mean, what I wouldn’t have done for just one fart joke.
I remember making a sarcastic remark (How in the hell did it take the Israelites so long to get to Canaan from Egypt?) and having everyone stare at me like I’d just expressed impolite concern for the casualties in Palestine.
And then I remember thinking to myself: ‘What am I doing here? I don’t belong here.’
By and large, pastors are hysterically unfunny.
Genuine humor requires openness, surprise, authenticity and a lack of fear over your listener’s reaction.
All of which are qualities required by faith but none of which are qualities encouraged by ministry.
Instead pastors tend to gravitate toward the telegraphed, not-going-to-upset-anyone variety. In addition, most pastors are sinfully over-serious, advocating for social justice or eternal salvation.
Sadly, pastors are just extreme versions of most Christians.
We’re NOT funny, and color me guilty on that score too.
Not funny as Christians.
(And you’re tempted now to cite Jeff Foxworthy or some lame ‘Christian comedian you should just stop reading).
I know plenty of church people who are piss-your-pants funny outside of church but inside church they’re completely different people; or rather, they somehow believe we expect them to be different people.
I don’t say this just to be cheeky. It’s a profound theological problem. After all, we know the end of the Story, of history.
No matter how things look now in the world or in our lives, God wins in the End. Things work out. There’s another version of reality other than the one given to us by the world.
Jesus is King of the whole Earth now- that’s the Gospel.
How could that NOT make us snarky, irreverent and cynical over all the parties, people and powers who think they’re in charge?
Christians are people who know that every King, President, CEO has no (eschatological) clothes.
If that doesn’t lend itself to irony, sarcasm, ridicule, satire and plain old joy I don’t know what does.
Maybe our lack of funny corresponds to having lost sight of our core story. Maybe we’ve substituted good news for legalism- which, by definition, can never be funny.
Maybe this is why Jews and gay people are almost always funnier- they know there’s more going on in the world than meets the eye.
Maybe our lack of funny reveals a lack of faith in that fact.
All of this is prompted by an article in the Huffington Post, Irreverence Is the New Reverent
Here’s the money quote:
It is this fear of irreverence that I believe deprives the Christian community from learning what it really means to be faithful. Irreverence shows the world how to be real, prophetic and passionate.
Irreverence says it like it is. It’s the child who calls out the emperor has no clothes. It’s the uncouth teenager who wears his boredom on the outside. It’s the hippie activist who won’t shower until world peace reigns. Irreverence gives the Church permission to engage in full-blown lament amidst the hardships of life.