Laughing In The Wilderness

I used to pride myself on being a "hard laugh" kind of person.  Someone who claims to be a "hard laugh" has the idea that something has to be truly funny before they make what comedian Pete Holmes calls their "joy noise."   

I would say things like, "That movie made me laugh, and I'm a hard laugh, you know."  Or I would watch videos on YouTube and Instagram that would reduce my kids to tears as they laughed at them, and I wouldn't crack a smile. 

Pete Holmes did a comedy bit years ago that made me realize how ridiculous I was being.  In the bit, he literally quoted my line about laughing at a movie, and being a "hard laugh" guy, and then went on to say: "Work on that. What are you? Nosferatu?  Let some sunlight into your soul." 

That really hit home for me.  I realized that we need more, not less, joy in our lives right about now.  There's so much in the world around us to drive us to worry, anger, and even despair, and laughter is, I believe, a spark of the divine within us.  

Mark Twain once wrote: 

“The human race has only one really effective weapon, and that is laughter.”

I believe there is something deeply human—and deeply holy—about laughter.

Not the kind that mocks or wounds, but the kind that breaks tension, restores perspective, and reminds us that darkness does not get the final word. In difficult seasons, laughter can feel almost rebellious. When the world grows heavy with grief, division, fear, and exhaustion, joy becomes a form of resistance.

Scripture is filled with surprising moments of holy humor. Sarah laughs when she hears that she will bear a child in old age (Genesis 18:12). Her laughter begins in disbelief but eventually turns to joy. Even the child’s name—Isaac—means “he laughs.”

I have also come to believe that God delights in human laughter.

Too often, we imagine faith as grim seriousness, as though holiness requires constant solemnity. But Jesus himself attended weddings, shared meals, and told exaggerated, playful stories that likely made listeners laugh. Camels squeezing through needles. People ignoring giant logs in their own eyes while criticizing splinters in others. There is wit woven throughout the Gospel stories.

Mark Twain’s words remind us that laughter can become a kind of survival. Sometimes joy helps us endure what would otherwise overwhelm us. A shared laugh between friends during hard times can restore strength to weary souls.

Holy humor does not deny pain. It simply refuses to surrender completely to it.

There are moments when laughter becomes an act of faith—a declaration that sorrow will not consume us forever. Even in seasons of uncertainty, moments of joy still break through like sunlight through clouds. A child’s laughter. A funny story around the dinner table. The absurd beauty of everyday life.

The sacred ordinary invites us to receive these moments not as distractions from spirituality, but as gifts from God.

Perhaps joy itself is holy ground.

Prayer

Joyful God, thank you for the gift of laughter and the grace of joy even in difficult times. Help me not to lose my capacity for delight, wonder, and lightheartedness. Teach me to resist despair by remaining open to the joy that still surrounds me each day. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. When has laughter helped carry you through a difficult season?
2. Why do you think joy can sometimes feel difficult to embrace?
3. What ordinary moments of delight have you experienced recently?