Laughing in Church
The adult Sunday School classes in our church discussed Ecclesiastes 7:1-14 today. It talks there about the house of mourning being better than the house of feasting, the day of death being better than the day of birth, and sorrow being better than mirth. In most classes, I believe these Scriptures were duly noted and agreed with, and examples were given, and balancing truths pointed out. And everyone was agreeable and comfortable. But one class apparently went down a slightly different path.
In our dinner table discussion afterward we heard from a family member that someone in their class had shared his concern about laughter in church. The person who raised the concern said that he had once traveled for four weeks and visited many other churches in the process, and not once did he hear laughter in any of those other churches. He saw these other churches as being more virtuous than ours in this way.
We've heard this concern expressed publicly before by at least one other individual. While the two individuals in our church that I know feel strongly about this have very different personalities (One is chatty and loves joking, and the other struggles with depression.), on this they agree: church services are not appropriate places for humor.
The inconvenient thing today, especially for people in that one Sunday School class, was that one funny thing after another happened. And the sermon, preached by a visitor in his upper 70s at least, had many more humorous observations, stories, and comments than is often the case. Not a single thing he said seemed contrived. So time after time, there were waves of chuckles over the audience.* Always slightly guilty waves for at least a few people, as it turns out. But the message overall, on brokenness, was powerful and moving, all the more so because it was spoken by a veteran of faithful Christian living. Some of what he said made me feel more like crying than laughing.
This afternoon I've been pondering laughter in church, and for the life of me, I can't frown on it. I do find it distasteful when people tell canned jokes just to provoke laughter, but the things that we all laughed at today were not like that. When I laughed it was a delighted response that meant something like That is so true, and I never would have thought of saying it like that! or That's just like me, and now I see how foolish I am! or I've noticed that too! or What a heartwarming picture! Every one of those responses would be an appropriate response during a time alone with God. How can it be inappropriate in a gathering of God's people, unless it disturbs another's worship, perhaps?
The man who preached today was never Beachy. He went straight from being Old Order Amish to being Conservative Mennonite. He has many relatives in this community, so we have some common ground, but he has undoubtedly spoken mostly in settings different from ours. I wonder what he thought today. Did he think These people are really silly or did he think These people are really connecting with what I'm saying? If we had been sober all the time, would he have felt better about his preaching and our listening? Would God have been more pleased?
Am I missing something here? Is it really true that our church is an anamoly among Beachy types? Where you've observed a sober atmosphere in church services, has it seemed more holy or worshipful to you than otherwise?
I'd love to hear how laughing in church seems to you.
*I'm not even sure if anyone could have picked out individual chuckles at all--certainly not guffaws or knee slapping. Just a spontaneous, smiling, sudden exhalation of breath, followed by a little belly shaking afterward. When 400 people do this though, it's audible, and registers as laughter.
In our dinner table discussion afterward we heard from a family member that someone in their class had shared his concern about laughter in church. The person who raised the concern said that he had once traveled for four weeks and visited many other churches in the process, and not once did he hear laughter in any of those other churches. He saw these other churches as being more virtuous than ours in this way.
We've heard this concern expressed publicly before by at least one other individual. While the two individuals in our church that I know feel strongly about this have very different personalities (One is chatty and loves joking, and the other struggles with depression.), on this they agree: church services are not appropriate places for humor.
The inconvenient thing today, especially for people in that one Sunday School class, was that one funny thing after another happened. And the sermon, preached by a visitor in his upper 70s at least, had many more humorous observations, stories, and comments than is often the case. Not a single thing he said seemed contrived. So time after time, there were waves of chuckles over the audience.* Always slightly guilty waves for at least a few people, as it turns out. But the message overall, on brokenness, was powerful and moving, all the more so because it was spoken by a veteran of faithful Christian living. Some of what he said made me feel more like crying than laughing.
This afternoon I've been pondering laughter in church, and for the life of me, I can't frown on it. I do find it distasteful when people tell canned jokes just to provoke laughter, but the things that we all laughed at today were not like that. When I laughed it was a delighted response that meant something like That is so true, and I never would have thought of saying it like that! or That's just like me, and now I see how foolish I am! or I've noticed that too! or What a heartwarming picture! Every one of those responses would be an appropriate response during a time alone with God. How can it be inappropriate in a gathering of God's people, unless it disturbs another's worship, perhaps?
The man who preached today was never Beachy. He went straight from being Old Order Amish to being Conservative Mennonite. He has many relatives in this community, so we have some common ground, but he has undoubtedly spoken mostly in settings different from ours. I wonder what he thought today. Did he think These people are really silly or did he think These people are really connecting with what I'm saying? If we had been sober all the time, would he have felt better about his preaching and our listening? Would God have been more pleased?
Am I missing something here? Is it really true that our church is an anamoly among Beachy types? Where you've observed a sober atmosphere in church services, has it seemed more holy or worshipful to you than otherwise?
I'd love to hear how laughing in church seems to you.
*I'm not even sure if anyone could have picked out individual chuckles at all--certainly not guffaws or knee slapping. Just a spontaneous, smiling, sudden exhalation of breath, followed by a little belly shaking afterward. When 400 people do this though, it's audible, and registers as laughter.
posted by Mrs. I at
8:26 PM
3 Comments:
I concur with your conclusions. It seems to me that spontaneous chuckles in church services are often an indication of connecting with the speaker and a comfortable, attentive worship atmosphere.
What a gift that we could hear Brother Eli preach.
Linda Rose
By
Anonymous, at 9/01/2008
Oh my. I would dread the thought of no laughter in church. Somehow I think since God gave us the gift of humor and laughter He might be bored (?not sure if God gets bored?) with our denial of it as well.
By
Anonymous, at 9/02/2008
I grew up in a church that sounds similar to yours as far as laughing goes. The one I'm in now, however...is different. Funny remarks, contrived or not, are usually met with dead silence. Whether it's disapproving silence or not, is something I've assumed but not proved.
This is something I would hope my church can grow in, but it's the kind of thing that takes twenty years to change. :)
By
Jenn, at 2/23/2015
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