
Like most people, I’ve always liked humor. During my Cub Scout days, when I had a subscription to Boys’ Life magazine, I always turned first to the last page, “Think and Grin,” which was a whole page–a whole page!–of jokes. I’d spend the next few days trying them on my family, with only middling success. I later came to appreciate their patience.
During my teaching career, I used a fair amount of humor, first because I enjoyed it, and second because it seemed to keep my students more engaged than they otherwise would have been. In my student evaluations I’d get a lot of positive comments about that. Eventually I began to wonder whether students liked my classes more because of the humor than because they were actually accomplishing the course objectives; I didn’t see a strong correlation between grades and positive evaluation scores.
I suppose college-aged students are not consistently mature.
Over the years I’ve noticed that humor can be used for great good but also for great harm. I’ve come to believe that the difference boils down to the two Great Commandments: is my humor demonstrating love for God? is it demonstrating love for the hearer?
How do we demonstrate love for God? For starters, by reverence. I never tell jokes about God. Ever. The Creator of heaven and earth is not a punch line–even if a thought shows up spontaneously in conversation. I don’t think such humor is appropriate.
What about loving your neighbor? There are professional humorists whose primary motivation is selfish–they’re trying to make a living at it. The temptation for them is to care not a whit about whether they’re spiritually edifying their audience. Comics know that the easiest way to get a laugh is to use what they call “blue humor”; they throw in bad language, or a “dirty joke,” or a reference to some kind of vulgarity or obscenity. Moral considerations aside, I’ve always considered that lazy and cheap. In a secular environment, people with no talent at all can easily get a laugh that way. Coming up with thoughtful, intelligent, genuinely entertaining humor is much more difficult.
And it’s for a similar reason that I’m not a big fan of jokes anymore. I don’t find memorizing canned humor very rewarding. I don’t see the accomplishment in being “king of the one-liners.”
I’m much more interested in what comics call “situational humor”: finding the humor in a given event or other situation. That’s typically contemporary, like what political commentators do, and often spontaneous, like livening up a fast-moving conversation by noting an irony or inserting a common memory among friends. That requires background knowledge and mental quickness, and if you miss the opportunity, you can’t typically bring it up later, after the moment has passed.
That’s discouraging to people who are trying primarily to be the center of attention; it tends to weed out the self-centered people, including those who are trying merely to top the last guy’s story with one of their own.
Humor doesn’t have to be trivial; I think it’s part of the image of God in all of us, though of course to different degrees, and though it’s not always appropriate; that’s another way we love our neighbors in our use of it.
Well, if shock humor is out, what makes humor funny? I think that there’s more than one source of humor. Let me suggest a couple.
Cognitive Dissonance
Some things are funny because they’re not normal; they’re out of place. When a toddler, imitating his father, calls his mom by her first name, that’s hilarious–again, assuming it’s not done in an offensive context.
One form of this type of humor is the “sight gag,” the visual presentation of dissonant or inappropriate elements. I once saw a commercial for windows that showed two women admiring a newly installed window in the house. Through the window, the viewers see (presumably) the man of the house setting up a grill in the back yard. As the women talk, describing the benefits of the window, the man struggles to get the grill lit while being distracted by the family dog. The grill eventually falls over, bursts into flame, and explodes, flying up out of the screen and falling to earth in the corner of the yard several seconds later. It’s hilarious. Why? Because it’s simply inconceivable that the women are so absorbed in a mere window that they don’t notice. In essence, the advertiser is making light of his own product. I suspect that the ad campaign was a success.
I see biblical evidence that God enjoys this kind of humor in the story of Haman, whose pride most certainly leads to his downfall: “whom would the king want to honor more than moi?” (Es 6.6).
Surprise
This is the effectiveness of the “punch line”:
A man once heard that the way to live a long and healthy life was to eat a teaspoonful of gunpowder every day. So he did. And he lived well into his 80s. When he died, he left behind a wife, 8 children, 19 grandchildren, 6 great-grandchildren, and a 12-foot hole in the wall of the crematorium.
It’s the last word that does it.
Disciplined humor. For those who go to the effort to execute it well, it can be useful tool for evangelism, edification, and even worship through appreciation of the image of God.
Photo by Denis Agati on Unsplash

