Growing up, my friends used to tell me, “Tim, you’re either going to be a priest or a stand-up comedian when you grow up.” It is true, I appreciate good humor. As a priest, I try to incorporate humor into my preaching and my writing. Maybe those childhood friends were not so far off. Humor can help us to find joy in life where we otherwise might not. It helps us to chuckle at those experiences we all share. Sometimes by laughing about something, it takes the sting out of an otherwise frustrating moment. When preaching about the scriptures, I like to include anecdotes from today’s context to help us to think about how the message applies to us so many years after the scriptures were written. People frequently muse that God has a sense of humor, and I wonder what kinds of things Jesus found humorous. Sometimes people will say, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.” While I understand this is supposed to be a silly anecdote, I don’t believe God actually plays games with us by changing things up when we’re trying to plan. Fortunately, I’m not very good at planning anyway, so I don’t have to worry about it. Our human senses of humor can be healthy and they can be unhealthy. Healthy humor finds silliness and playfulness in our shared humanity. Unhealthy humor can disparage people, including the person making the joke. Sometimes I ask myself why people expected me to either be a priest or a comedian. I suspect that some of the gifts that make someone seek a life of ordained ministry are similar to those who try to entertain through humor. There is a tendency to want to share and normalize topics that are otherwise unspoken or even taboo.
I’m reading a book right now about the late, great Robin Williams. For several decades, Williams was a household name. He starred as Mork from Ork on Mork and Mindy, the Genie on Aladdin, Daniel Hillard (and Mrs. Doubtfire) in Mrs. Doubtfire, John Keating in Dead Poets Society, Sgt. Adrian Cronauer in Good Morning Vietnam, and he was in many other movies and TV shows. He had a very successful career in stand-up comedy. He also was an Episcopalian. Williams had a knack for using silliness and playfulness in ways that brought out the funniest moments in our shared humanity. If anyone can be declared a comedic genius, certainly Williams was one.
Tragically, Williams took his own life in 2014. He had recently been diagnosed with Parkinson’s and a form of dementia. Looking back on Williams’ story, it is clear he lived a life of pain. He frequently used self-depreciating humor, drugs, and alcohol to self-medicate some deep piece of his soul that was injured by feelings of loneliness and low self-worth. We might look at someone as famous as Robin Williams who had millions of dollars, any material thing his heart desired, and an ability to go anywhere or do anything and think, “wow. That guy has it made!” But clearly something was missing in his life.
Williams’ story is not dissimilar to the stories of other comedians. He’s also not the only comedian to die prematurely. Sam Kinison, Freddie Prinze, Richard Jeni, Mitch Hedberg, John Belushi, Chris Farley and others died either at their own hand, or by some kind of accident directly or indirectly related to drugs and alcohol. Watch the television show Crashing starring Pete Holmes if you want to see what it’s like in the stand-up comedy world. So many comedians get into the business because they find that it helps them to heal from their trauma they experienced earlier in life. Marc Maron, who now hosts a popular podcast, has openly talked about how his comedy is based on pain he experienced earlier in life. Stand-up comedians often find their trade because they learned they could process their emotions and talk about their pain therapeutically on stage. If other people laugh at what they have to say, then they realize their experiences are not alone. The audience also gets some of that therapy. By the way, plenty of comedians do present as healthy humorists. It isn’t a blanket statement to say all comedians found comedy as a means for processing pain. But it does happen fairly frequently.
The same is true for some people who go into “helping professions.” It’s not at all uncommon for someone to enter a helping profession (nursing, counseling, social work, clergy, etc.) because they want to help other people to avoid the feelings they’ve struggled with. Catholic priests Richard Rohr and Greg Boyle, former Orthodox priest Nathan Monk, and Episcopal Bishop Jake Owensby, have shared openly about pain they felt as youngsters. Brene Brown is a well-known counselor who talks about her own struggles and how they are a part of her story. Troubled relationships and early childhood experiences can be a driving force for some people to do what they can to alleviate the pain of others. By sharing with us glimpses of their own humanity, it can normalize for us what we might be struggling with. Maybe by talking about things and bringing them out into the open, we can experience hope instead of despair.
It’s safe to say each of us has at least a little bit of pain somewhere deep inside. Have you ever felt like you didn’t quite fit in? Do you ever look back at things you did or said when you were younger and cringe? Do you ever wish you had a chance to take that winning shot one more time? Have you ever felt like you were teased because of some attribute you couldn’t control? Maybe you were teased for being tall or short. Or maybe you were teased for a bad haircut. Maybe, like me, you’ve struggled with your weight. Maybe you’ve had family members estrange you, like I have. Maybe you’ve been through a divorce or experienced the loss of a loved one. All of these affect us in ways we may not truly understand or even recognize. It’s very common for people to make self-depreciating jokes as a means of healing. Think of gallows humor. That morbid kind of humor executioners are said to have used to keep their sanity while hanging condemned criminals. Nurses have senses of humor that only they understand and so do priests. We all develop tools that help us to process our experiences. In addition, jokes at our own expense can be a means of self-preservation. If I make a joke about my weight, then it takes away the power of someone else who might use my weight as a target of a mean-spirited joke. In other words, I get to control the jokes about that topic.
I think it’s useful to have shared human experiences and to let others know I struggle with the same things they do. Maybe in some ways we are able to bring ourselves into ministry the way some comedians might use themselves in comedy. It’s important to be real and human. Robin Williams talked about feeling shy when people put him on a pedestal. It made him uncomfortable to be elevated. He acknowledged at one time that there are plenty of people with just as much talent as he had, he simply was fortunate enough to have access to opportunities and lucky breaks. While there is probably some truth there, it’s tough to deny that Williams was indeed very talented. I am happy that people bring themselves into the room and make us feel better by making us laugh. And I am saddened when pain leads people toward self-medication with drugs, alcohol, and even suicide. Appropriate, healthy humor can brighten our days. Let’s all use ourselves to brighten each other’s days.