Is everything a joke to you? Only the things that matter.

Exodus 2:23-25, 3:1-15, 4:10-17

            Comedy is hard, like really hard. I know because I say jokes in public on occasion. Now, given I say jokes in a church where people aren’t sure if it’s appropriate to laugh and I’m not exactly Jimmy Kimmel, or Robin Williams, or Bob Hope (I think I got the generations covered there). There are some obvious differences in expectations anyway; most of you don’t come to church specifically to laugh, which is all well and good. Laughter is often seen as the opposite of taking something seriously. However, I tend to think that humor and piety or faithfulness are much more closely related than we give them credit. Sometimes we need to laugh in order to see what is true. Worship should often be a place of laughter, not because we’re pretending everything is alright but because we know it’s not and we need that freeing joy of things that are just plain funny. One of my favorite movie quotes is a line from V for Vendetta where the heroine Evey asks the comedian Deitrich, “Is everything a joke to you?” And he answers, “Only the things that matter.” And I think there’s something profoundly true in that.

It is very possible to laugh and take things seriously at the same time. Most of us are not children; we can do both! But because we tend to set some times aside for humor and other times aside for serious worship we tend to have our eyes closed to the ways that God uses humor to tell us something. Did you catch what was funny about our reading of the day today? Maybe not. If we’re expecting dour seriousness that’s what we get, and sometimes biblical humor is, you know, biblical. It’s old and dated and not all that funny. But some things are just funny no matter what. Moses’ speech in Exodus 4 is the perfect example.

Now, when I read this speech as the Reading of the Day a few minutes ago I read it with the reverence that you expect from a reading during Sunday morning worship. I did this because I didn’t want to confuse you and because I like keeping my job, but now I’m going to read it how I think it should be read, but in order to do so I’m going to have to change the language a little—make it feel a bit modern. The setting I imagine here is God trying to put Moses to bed, because that’s a situation that speaks deep to my heart these days for some reason. If you listen for it, I think you’ll hear why.

Exodus 4:10-17.

Moses: “O Lord, I have never been eloquent either heretofore or even now that you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech… and of tongue.”

God: <open-mouthed stare> (I don’t know what it looks like for God to stare open-mouthed at somebody but I’m pretty sure that’s what happened here… you know, the look you give when somebody says something so foolish that you’re trying to figure out if they’re being intentionally idiotic or if they really just don’t get it.) Anyway, God says: “I’ll be doing the speaking, ya dummy. Plus, mmm, don’t know how to break this to you... but that speech you just made about not being able to speak sounded like something straight out of Shakespeare. You’ll be fine.”

Moses: “But I don’t want to!” (Full tantrum mode now)

God: “OK, have it your way. Your brother, Aaron, speaks. So, here’s how this is going to go: I’m going to put words in your mouths. You’ll speak to Aaron. Aaron will speak to the people. I mean, basically all you’re going to have to say is “Let my people go!” anyway. Now, Moses, take this staff; it’s going to come in handy…”

I feel like I should mention at this time that it’s sort of a pet peeve of mine when people are listing all the biblical characters that God uses unexpectedly they list lepers and children and women, who had no standing in society, and then inevitably they list Moses and say God used him in spite of his speech impediment. Moses was just being a toddler. That was his impediment; he was a grown-up cry-baby.

That changes the whole tenor of the story, doesn’t it? No longer is Moses this perfect biblical character; he’s sort of just like you and me—dragging his feet, kicking and screaming, from doing what God expects him to do. It’s funny because it’s true and because we recognize that in ourselves, and those of us with toddlers or teenagers recognize it immediately.

The humor doesn’t lessen from the message at all as far as I’m concerned. It just reminds us the kinds of dummies that God uses; so that even when we feel like we’re pretty much the worst of all sinners we should remember that God used a guy like Moses who went in full cry-baby mode when God asked him to save his people from slavery. If God uses Moses, then any of us are free game. So was Jonah, who was the very worst prophet, who had by far the most success. That’s an entire book of the Bible I believe is written as satire—as one big joke.

I guess what I want to say with the burning bush as the background is that it’s OK to read these passages as humorous. You have permission to laugh. A lot of permission. And I’m not just saying that so you humor me with the occasional chortle when I say something I imagine might be funny; I say it because there is something good and true in humor. And while the church might not be the primary place you go to have a laugh I do think we should laugh more; not because we aren’t taking this seriously but because we know it matters and things that matter are often funny.

I can’t tell you how many times death and humor are intertwined; how many times the funniest stories are told around the time of death. Humor disarms us, helps us from taking ourselves too seriously, and it reminds us what really matters. I get all this from Moses, because I recognize in Moses the same unwillingness I sometimes feel—and I’m guessing you feel it too—to step up and do anything. It’s humorous because I know it’s true. I know it’s easier to do nothing—to pretend like everything’s great in Egypt; to not speak up.

Somehow, humor makes getting over that hump easier, and that’s no mistake, because God gave us laughter for exactly this purpose: To do God’s will for a world that needs it. That sounds somber, but it’s a holy calling and holy callings are funny, because we are still just silly little human beings trying to do God’s will. Nothing is funnier than that. Nothing is more humorous than a human being trying to be like God. But thanks be to God, because he calls and uses us all the same; no matter how silly and stupid and Moses-like we are. It’s funny because it’s true.