
Can we use humour in preaching? What does it do to help in engaging the listeners? What are the dangers and pitfalls? Was Jesus funny?
Last Sunday week, after I preached at a church I am supporting through vacancy, one member of the congregation commented: “Thank you—that was really funny!” I don’t remember anyone ever saying that before as sermon feedback! But it reminded that I often deliberately use humour, both in preaching and teaching, and it made me go back to think about why it is important.
The sermon was on the epistle for Trinity 14, Romans 13.8–end, and you can see our video discussion of it here. It is a passage in two halves, the first on love as the fulfilment of the law, and the second on clothing ourselves with Christ/the armour of light, because of the time. I decided that the most apposite questions I could ask the congregation, to help explore this, were: why do you obey the speed limit when driving (to avoid a fine? or to care for others?); and why did you not stay in your pyjamas when coming to church (because you dress differently for different occasions). I felt confident that the humorous nature of the questions would help to remember the points, and make Paul’s teaching seem more accessible than is usually thought.
But not everyone agrees that humour is helpful. Some years ago, as part of its publicity, the Christian Resources Exhibition was running a ‘Sermon of the Year’ award. To promote this it commissioned research on what people look for in sermons, and some of the conclusions might seem surprising.The headline conclusion was uncompromising:
Cut the jokes, churchgoers tell Christian preachers, as finalists gear up for ‘Sermon of the Year’ award
According to the survey, most people don’t want jokes and entertainment, but do appear to want sermons of reasonable length which include substantial biblical engagement (men) and real-life application (women).
There are some questions to ask here about the demographic for the survey, not least in terms of theological tradition. But there is also a surprising hidden effect in asking any questions about preaching. In ten years of teaching about preaching, I used to begin the course by asking students to think about one good sermon, and describe it, and one bad sermon, and describe it. (This was a way to avoid idealisation and generalisation about what we think sermons ought to look like.) What was striking is that, without fail, the comments on the good sermon focussed on the content and comments on the bad sermon largely focussed on delivery. In other words, if sermons are delivered well (including the use of humour) then listeners do not notice and are free to focus on the content.
So perhaps it is not surprising that humour was not seen as important—but in fact the good use of humour contributes a lot to preaching, for seven important reasons—and there is probably nothing more familiar than the stand-up.
1. Encourages engagement
Making people laugh near the beginning of a sermon turns them from passive listeners to active engagers, and gives them a sense of involvement in the listening process. Laughing makes people feel better, and they are then more open to listen to what you have to say.
But there is also a cultural and theological reason for using humour. Many preachers behave as though the ‘sermon’ mode of speech is something quite distinct from everyday discourse—but that is only because sermons often borrow a form of speaking (‘formal lecture’) that was popular 100 years ago or so, and with the passage of time has become removed from most people’s everyday experience. Scripture suggests that there is no special form of ‘divine discourse’ and that, instead, God chooses to use the whole range of human speech with which to communicate. You can see this just by exploring all the different genres of literature found in Scripture.
This means that, rather than speaking in ‘sermon’ mode when we preach, what we are actually doing is selecting an existing form of human discourse, and following that. If we speak in preaching in a way which is recognisably familiar to our listeners, we lower the barriers and allow easier engagement.
It is very striking that, after people have paid good money to watch an hour-and-a-half monologue from a comedian, they rarely complain that they were not engaged!
2. Establishes rapport
During my nearly ten years teaching homiletics (preaching), I often began the exploration of the use of rhetoric in preaching by showing the first five minutes of Bill Bailey’s ‘Half Troll’ comedy tour (it was current at the time!). He spends the entire opening set doing little more than establishing rapport with his audience, at times simply by pointing, nodding, waving and grunting! This was then reinforced by his use of stock language and stereotypes, demonstrating that he inhabited the same world as his audience, that he was ‘one of them.’
There is a real danger that congregations see preachers and preaching as set apart from their everyday life, and that the truths that are expounded are contained within the pulpit or the church building on a Sunday, rather than having connections with their lives from Monday to Saturday. The more that preachers can identify with their congregation in preaching, the more these truths can cross the bridge into everyday experience—and humour can help establish such a bridge.
In technical terms, this is one part of engaging with the three modes of persuasive speaking according to Aristotle, which was the stock in trade of speakers across the ancient world. Aristotle argued that the three modes or elements of persuasive speech are logos (the content of your argument), ethos (your credibility as a speaker and your connection with your listeners), and pathos (the emotional appeal that invites response). Using humour in preaching can be a major contributor to ethos, so that you present yourself as someone credible with connection to your listeners.
This does restrict the kind of humour you can use; it has to be understood by all. This is particularly challenging if you are preaching in a multicultural church context (as I often am in my home church).
(If you are unsure of the power of this, reflect: what did the sense of familiarity in the title to this post do for you?)
3. Develops rhetorical skills
Some people seem more naturally able to tell jokes; other struggle. Telling jokes well is in fact quite demanding of a range of rhetorical skills. It demands the use of memory—you need to make several short, pithy sayings and they need to be word perfect from memory for the joke to flow. Jokes don’t really work if you have to read them from a script! You need to use pace and timing. And you need to handle the surprise or sudden change of direction which is the essence of the joke itself.
These are skills which also enhance preaching. Memorising at least some (the key points?) of your material so that you can engage directly with your congregation, mastering changes of pace and timing, and making key moves in direction are all elements of effective preaching.
And a good way to develop your rhetorical skills is to preach in different contexts and in different forms, moving from, on the one hand, a fully scripted sermon to, on the other, giving a talk with no script at all. The skills you develop through this will help with joke telling.
4. Models engagement of interest
I often listen to the Sunday Service on Radio 4 before heading off to church myself (or whilst driving on the way). And one of my constant puzzles in life is why the sermons in it are so dull and lacking in interest! A few weeks ago, the speaker shared a genuinely tragic and moving personal story—but management to make it sound uninteresting!
The reason is that (whether because of the speakers or whether there is some diktat from the BBC) these sermons usually have no ‘narrative tension’—no sense of the surprising or the unexpected. A dull story is predictable; you know what is going to happen, or perhaps the narrator tells you the ending at the beginning, or immediately reveals the most important element so eliminating any sense of suspense or anticipation.
Jokes often function as stories in miniature, full of suspense when you do not know what the punch line is (which is why they fall flat when the punch line is given away) or surprise at the unexpected ending. In that sense, they model something vital in effective preaching. Instead of ‘telling you what I am going to tell you’ we should be posing questions, offering puzzles and paradoxes, and only slowing unveiling the surprising way that God’s grace unravels the knots of our lives.
5. Establishes common experience
Kate Bottley compares vicars telling bad jokes to dad dancing—no-one enjoys it!
If you asked most preachers, I think perhaps we think we are funnier than we are. I think ….this is about authenticity: I suspect there are some vicars trying to be funny who aren’t.
But listening to bad jokes—or rather, ones that have a low threshold for understanding, has an important social function. Talk to anyone from a non-UK culture, and they will be baffled at the Christmas tradition of telling bad cracker jokes. But the fact they are bad means that everyone can understand them and so they enable a bonding, shared experience amongst the Christmas dinner guests. If the joke was too clever and sophisticated, it would divide the listeners into those who got it and those who didn’t—and dinner would be ruined.
Sermon jokes don’t need to be bad. But accessible humour can function as an important way to involve the whole congregation in the experience and communicate powerful that everyone is included.
One particularly effective way of doing this is learning from comedians who use observational humour. I think this became a big thing ten or fifteen years ago, though appears to be less popular now. Michael McIntyre is a particularly good exponent of this. He takes everyday situations which we all know, and highlights the comedy and absurdity of it. And because he is working with experiences that we are familiar with, we can identify with it and it is memorable. Whenever any of our family goes for a swim, we always say ‘It is cold at first, but alright once you’re in!’ which is a reference to one of his skits on observing the British on holiday at the hotel pool. Many people groan at his sense of humour—but in a sense, that is the point. It has a low ‘entry point’ for being able to engage with it.
6. Prevents boredom
The two main reasons why people say they stop going to church are that it is dull and it is irrelevant. Sermons do not need to be exercises in entertainment—but it is quite an achievement to make the startling good news of what God has done in Christ boring—yet many appear to manage it!
Lord Carey, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, said: “I’m a great believer in humour – there is nothing worse than a boring sermon. Just two minutes of a boring sermon can be almost like geological time, it goes on forever.
I believe in proper use of humour, if it is relevant. A really good joke can do two things: it can link in with the address and give a bit of a breathing space. Even in Parliament when someone uses humour it relaxes people and takes some of the heaviness out of an address but it has to be in its right place.”
7. Gives space to breath
20 or 30 minutes of intense, life-changing theology and exposition can be hard to digest. If you don’t give listeners some room to breath, to step back and process what you are saying, they will most likely take it anyway by detaching from what you are now saying in order to process what you said two minutes ago.
Humour can provide a natural breathing space, give time to reflect and provide a sense of perspective.
This is also an argument for preaching longer, rather than shorter, sermon—though both have their virtues. Shorter sermons can pack a lot in, and give people something to think about and respond to. I used to make all my homiletics students preach a two-minute sermon, and the common response was “Why do we need any more time?!” But in a longer sermon, you can walk with people through the process of engagement and reflection, and that includes giving them space to process theological truth for themselves.
Of course there are dangers in the use of humour. Jokes told badly are embarrassing—and even jokes told well can be a distraction, so that listeners go away remembering the joke but forgetting the point the joke was making!
But humour used well can season a sermon and make it much easier to digest. After all, if Jesus used humour and was funny, shouldn’t we be when preaching about him?
Because preachers are always on the lookout for humour, if you sign up to receive Grove emails, along with information about new and recent titles you will also receive some great jokes every month! Here’s my favourite from a recent email:
I bought my friend an elephant for his room. He said, “Thanks.” I said, “Don’t mention it.”
And if you still haven’t got the joke in the title, enjoy this wonderful display of rhetorical humour:
Buy me a Coffee




























Our (Scouse) congregations always respond really well to humour. You can even push your luck. One Ash Wednesday, I mentioned that the Victorians would often go to church unwashed and in shabby clothing on that day. After a pause, I said, “And I’m delighted to see so many of you continuing the tradition.” I saw a lot of “he better not be looking at me”, but they soon saw the joke.
Humour defuses, warms, creates eye contact around the congregation and engages. However, I honestly think the type of congregation matters: I spent some years in rural Leicestershire where the sense of humour is, dare I say, not quite on a par with Liverpool, and so I would not normally use humour if in ministry there. Context matters.
Born in Liverpool myself I agree totally. Scousers know how to laugh at themselves. We are a very well balanced group – we have a chip on both shoulders!
One other advantage of humour in sermons is if you say something you know is funny and nobody laughs, then that’s a fair sign that they have stopped listening – so stop talking!
You can’t be serious! You are having a laugh!
Dick Lucas, from what I’ve heard on the internet, engaged well with humour.
I still think the best preaching joke is from the Apostle Paul himself.
Philippians is a letter with 4 chapters, and Philippians chapter 3, verse 1 ( pretty much the halfway point) Paul writes “Finally….”
Masterpiece
Beware of the preacher who says “and lastly” – and lasts! Listen to the preacher who says “and in closing” – and closes!
Humour does have to be in the form of a recognisable formal joke.
After the morning service a few weeks ago, in chatting, mentioned nostalgia, which brought a response, ‘nostalgia isn’t what it used to be’.
Correction. Does not…
Many years ago I regularly listened to David Watson who often spoke for 40 – 45 minutes. Every 10 – 12 minutes he would tell a joke to punctuate what was a long sermon and give us a pause to relax a bit.
But I find now that actual jokes as opposed to amusing personal stories or asides are more risky because they don’t cross cultural, age and linguistic differences all that well.
I recall some years ago at, Filey Christian camp,
an internationally renowned preacher [whose name and sermon I forget] telling the story of an old reformed Puritan
who was hand milking his milch cow.
The pail was filling when the cow stepped forward into the pail !
Undeterred he set too again, the pail was filling nicely when the beast stepped backwards, knocking over the bucket and he off his stool.
Quietly he took the cow by the horns and looked her firmly in the eye, and said, “Thee knowest I cannot swear at thee,
and thee knowest that I cannot beat thee, but what thee doesn’t know is that tomorrow I am selling thee to a Baptist!
Sometimes jokes out live both preacher and sermon what they did for my soul even if I felt happy at the time I don’t recall.
Instead of trying to be Humorous why not preach a sermon on Laughter in the Scriptures?
God laughs [ Trigger Warning – Beware!]
Half believing souls laugh and had a child named Laughter.
Fools mock and laugh.
Saints laugh will exceeding joy, [ “then were our mouths filled with laughter” ] There is great soul health in Holy laughter.
Kenneth Copland said:-
“There are spiritual, emotional and physical benefits of joy and laughter. Science has proven why the Bible tells us to laugh–it’s good for our health! Laughter reduces stress, fights against depression and sorrow, fosters a positive outlook on life, and puts you in an all-around good mood. Laughter also lowers blood pressure, and impacts the cells in your body, preventing disease and setting you up to live long and strong.
If you don’t laugh enough (that means every day!), or if you need to restore the joy in your life, begin today by renewing your mind with these 25 scriptures about joy and laughter “.
See on @ .kcm.org/real-help/25-scriptures-about-laughter-and-joy/
Happy preaching! Shalom.
Alan, you have remembered the humorous story but do you remember its purpose? If not, the preacher failed.
BTW I’m not sure about the humour of it at all, unless it was to be disparaging about Baptists.
Not sure that the theology of Kenneth Copland is a laughing matter.
you mean Baptists dont have a sense of humour?
A nervous young Baptist minister was taking his first baptism. Standing in the pool, he declared from the servicebook, ‘The Lord commanded us ….’ (then in his nerves, turned to the wrong page), ‘Drink ye all of it.’ It took thrm several hours.
It’s fine to use humour and jokes, but I’m very wary of advising people to do so. There’s nothing worse than crowbarring in a joke because you think it’s a necessary part of the formula as if you’re a nervous after dinner speaker or best man at a wedding. Indeed, if you think always need a joke and have one, then it dulls the impact.
sometimes but not always.
I think Jesus used humour (not necessarily jokes as such) far more often than I, at least, used to think. Giving a rare talk last Sunday (and trying not to be too sermonic or preachy), on ‘Hidden Treasure in John Chapter 3′, and reaching verses 9 and 10, I had to think about Jesus’ reply to Nicodemus: “You are the teacher of Israel and you do not know these things?” Was Jesus being exceptionally rude to Nicodemus? Was he being ironic? Was he being playfully humorous? I am pretty sure Jesus was not being deliberately rude, so that leaves me (and I hope left my listeners) asking (and continuing to ask), what was Jesus communicating? I really do hope they did not conclude that Jesus must have been joking!
Yes, humour is hard to spot in texts and cross-culturally.
I don’t know, when Jesus asks the paralytic who has been screaming at him: ‘So, what do you want?’ Is quite funny, in any language.
Elijah has had the exhausting Carmel experience.
He then runs so fast that he outpaces Ahab’s chariot – for 16 miles to Jezreel.
From Jezreel he has again to run (not walk) 100 miles from Jezebel, to Beersheba.
At this point, he is severely depressed.
The angel strengthens him, and he walks another 250 miles to Horeb.
When he gets there, the Lord says, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’ – because he ought instead to be another 250 miles away at Damascus.
No Christopher.
I wrote 18, 000 words on this for my MA thesis.
He was not meant to be in Damascus.
Frank – I haven’t read your 18 000 words, but I’m sure they’re worth reading. It’s clear to me that you are right here – Elijah had not disobeyed any instruction to go to Damascus.
Perhaps (as Christopher suggests) Elijah may have been depressed (and I’ve heard the suggestion before), but it seems to me that he reacted sensibly and shrewdly to the situation that had developed. He had stood mightily over the Prophets of Baal when God responded to his prayers and accepted the burnt offering. He had then prayed for rain and the rain had come. Yet they had not repented and they had not turned to the Lord. I found Mendelssohn’s oratorio useful at this point; he brings in Jeremiah 5:3 ‘although stricken they have not grieved’. This is why Jezebel’s threat actually has teeth (she still has the Prophets of Baal at her beck and call – with no-one on the side of the Lord). His entire ministry has therefore been a total waste of time and energy – hence his request that the Lord take away his life (note – he *never* contemplates suicide – he understands full well that his life is at God’s disposal). Throughout, he is *absolutely obedient* to the Lord, who informs him that (despite the apparent total failure of his mission and ministry so far) there are indeed 7000 in Israel who have not bowed the knee to Baal.
He is *then* sent to Damascus. Elijah’s later ministry, associated with the ministry of the still small voice, is incomparably more important and profound than his earlier ministry standing over against the Prophets of Baal, great though that was. He created a conscience in Israel and a climate in which later prophets could minister. This was his enduring contribution and this is what God had in mind for him. The still small voice acted as a leaven in Israel society.
I quite agree that he was not meant to be in Damascus. The first he heard of it was when the Lord addressed him. Which is the source of some of the humour.
Christopher – well, I’m not at all sure that Elijah found it very funny at all. I suppose there is some sarcastic ‘humour’ when he is asking the Prophets of Baal whether their god is sleeping or on a journey, etc … but weighed against the fact that there are only 7000 servants of the Lord in a country of probably approx. 2 million – especially when this is Israel (i.e. God’s chosen people), the whole thing is pretty tragic (and the Lord really did give Elijah a very difficult life).
OK Christopher – got you now
agree your comment
I think it is the humour of sympathy (as in – haven’t we all been there? Which, of course, we haven’t to nearly the same extent.).
Jock
Thank you for your careful analysis, which I would very much agree with.
One very minor point – the Hebrew grammar may be better understood to mean that the 7,000 is a theological promise of a future spiritual remnant, (as Romans 11:4); however the grammar is not clear.
The whole passage is full of sophisticated word play making translation difficult; the text is quasi-poetic machine gun like staccato delivery, not ordinary prose as we have it. Deliberate ambiguity abounds. It is impossible to begin to bring out all these nuances in translation, which is what made it such a good topic for study.
As for humour, if you mean whimsical Jewish irony it, challenging established theological concepts, then it abounds in bucket loads. Whether modern Western minds would find it “funny” – No. Entirely different matter.
Some extremely good points above.
‘Jokes’ are jarring in their disjunction from the rest of the talk.
They should not be interludes like ‘Silly Songs with Larry’.
Real-life illustrations are what David Watson and so many others (not to say Jesus) focused on. These give body to the abstract point. They not infrequently cause the joy of recognition and clarification.
Anyone who carries the hearers along by their perspective and realism/truthfulness will likely elicit much joy and laughter without actual ‘jokes’. Truthfulness is one of the main aspects of humour (think Adrian Plass), and it is a relief or release when truth is told.
Fowler, Modern English Usage has a table of different kinds of humour and their aims and effects. Humour is a diverse thing.
Yes, wit is not the same as a joke. When it was fashionable for some preaschers to start a sermon with an irrelevant joke two or three decades ago I asked them what they thought Muslims might make of our faith.
No mockery of “Silly Songs with Larry” it taught me the one sentence of Spanish I know as well as the Polish word for Lip!
I hold it in high esteem too; the only point is that its disjunction from the rest of the ‘show’ is not what should happen with jokes within sermons.
I have always thought that there was something amusing in Jesus, asking Peter an ace fisherman, to catch a fish with a coin in it to pay the temple tax..
Yes – humour in preaching is very important – because the central gospel message – crucifixion and resurrection – all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God – wages of sin is death and all that – the plan of salvation where Christ *died* a gruesome death, had to descend into hell to conquer sin and death so that we have salvation through Him really is very humorous indeed. A sermon is a total waste of time – an opportunity lost to convict people of their sins and giving them no option but to turn to Jesus – if it doesn’t communicate this.
But sermons are given inside the church, where people already know this. What you are talking about is spot-on for preaching outside the church or inside at weddings, funerals and at Christmas.
Isn’t the church E1, the first place for evangelism?
I can recall a CoE minister saying that a church member had said to him that he was fed -up with the minister always preaching Jesus, until he finally got him.
And isn’t there a distinction between visible and invisible church, unbelievers and believers?
Inappropriate. Misplaced Gallows humour? Years ago the conversation where my wife worked got round to the death of a footballer during the game. Shocked, but ‘at least he died happy’ was the verdict.
Wrong question. The question should be, will he be happy dead? was the point I made in preaching. It wasn’t humorous, nor meant to be.
Universalists beware!
That is perhaps the case in our post-Christendom mess. But in places where the church is persecuted, such as China, and plenty of the early church, just about everybody at a gathering is a serious Christian.
Even in our post-Christendom situation, everybody in a church knows what the message is. The problem is getting it from head to heart, and the evidence that preaching achieves this is scant.
Anthony – then you and I have fundamentally different view on the function of the sermon. God uses the same word to convict unbelievers of their sin (so that they come to faith) and to build up those who have already come to faith. You do get unbelievers coming to church – and that’s how they get converted. Various phases – firstly, ‘doesn’t really apply to me’ (but the person might keep coming for trivial reasons – e.g. the coffee after the service and the church community, etc …), then the understanding that they are sinners and do need to repent, but do not want to repent – and that is when they turn violent, sarcastic and mocking (and if you don’t believe that there are a lot of such people actually going to churches, just look at the comments which appear on here, often from ordained church people, who stop at nothing in their attacks on the Christians who post here – which always looks to me like an attack on the Holy Spirit and what the Holy Spirit is doing in a believer’s heart and mind). Some can remain like that for the whole of their lives, but some come to the understanding that they need to repent and they *want* to repent, but then they see that they can’t repent. Then the miracle of faith occurs (ask, seek, knock – the door will be opened). It’s not the job of the church to lay on nice gimmicks to get the pews filled; God brings people to church and he does so when the gospel of repentance unto remission of sins is being proclaimed – and when He does so, it is very important that the gospel of repentance unto remission of sins *IS* proclaimed, because He works through this – and, to be honest, I fail to see the humour.
You’re right about Christmas. At the church I attended, the evening sermons on the Sundays just before Christmas from year to year had similarities with each other – and were usually based on the text ‘born under the law’ – from which you can probably figure out the contents of the sermon!
PLease see my reply to Geoff, just above.
Anthony – as a mature Christian, I go to church to hear the central gospel message – the same message that God uses to bring unbelievers into the fold is the message that brings comfort to believers and builds them up in the faith. So, while what you are saying about attendance (that in countries where persecution takes place only believers attend), that is actually a red herring when it comes to the contents of the sermon.
I’m still failing to see the humour in the crucifixion, the resurrection and the message of what God did for us and His tremendous self-sacrifice at Calvary. In fact, I’d say that if someone tells the preacher after a sermon that his sermon was funny, then that is a damning accusation.
Jock – I agree wtih your second paragraph. RE the first, why do you want to hear something repeated that you already know? I occasionally reread good books, but I don’t reread the same one every week.
In Christendom’s 1700-year muddle betweeen the church and the world there is ineed a point to preaching inside our church *buildings*. But that is a different issue.
Anthony – the short answer is that there are many and varied ways in which the central gospel message comes in and gets presented. For example, suppose the preacher decides to do a series on the book of Job. We’re immediately talking about *redemption*. We’re also talking about innocent suffering (allusion to Calvary – the ultimate innocent suffering). We’re talking about *faith* – God wants to prove something to men and angels, also to Satan, and Job is His chosen instrument for this. Job asks many questions – and God does not answer any of his questions at all. God does answer Job, but doesn’t answer any of his questions; these questions are only answered in the New Testament. You can’t preach effectively about Job if you don’t tie it into the central gospel message. And very difficult to see how one can crack a wee joke to lighten it up a little without degenerating into poor taste.
Jock,
We might be agreeing! I completely agree with you about jokes being out of place. And I would call a series of sermons about the Book of Job ‘teaching’ rather than ‘preaching. I agree that the Christian ought to seek Jesus in every book of the Old Testament. Doing that takes expertise, and all I can say it that it should come naturally and not be strained.
Anthony – well, yes – nice to be in agreement! One small point – what you describe as ‘teaching’, I’d probably describe as ‘preaching’ – because that’s the sort of thing I expect to come from the pulpit – and I probably wouldn’t have much time for what you use ‘preaching’ to describe. I don’t think there really is a place for the preaching of ‘special’ or ‘gospel’ sermons aimed specifically at the unbeliever. Say someone comes along to church and hears a sermon that is part of an on-going series on (say, for sake of argument) the book of Job where the discussion is tied into the central gospel message (as it should be), then the person will hear the Word of God and might actually get ‘hooked’ – and, at the same time won’t feel he’s being patronised by a preacher condescending to his level.
humans may be the only creatures who express and enjoy humour. Yes a place and time for everything, but cant one use it to make a point?
Jock, from many of your previous posts on this blog, l gather that you currently do not go to church. Is that correct?
Chris – I would like to answer in the affirmative, that I don’t go to church, but it isn’t strictly true, since I accompany my father to the local C. of S. when I’m visiting home (importance of being connected to the local Christian community and all that). It has been dismal – aversion of person leading the service to present the central gospel message – also, the style – which we think must be part of the training that ordinands get whereby they’re told to present themselves as a ‘cheery chappie’ who kicks off the sermon with a wee joke that (with us at any rate) goes down like a lead balloon. In short – the original post may well be something taken directly from the training manual. If the central gospel message were being proclaimed, if the passage from Scripture under consideration were being presented in the light of the central gospel message, then this would be a very serious business – and very little room for nice light-hearted jokes to set the ball rolling.
I was brought up in a (very good, but somewhat atypical) Open Brethren Chapel. Like the Baptist Church I attended when staying with my maternal Grandparents, the Brethren were fond of testimonies. However, I noticed the frequent (but by no means universal) odd testimony: “I wasn’t actually converted at ‘the Gospel Service’, but at the ‘Breaking of Bread’. Nothing more ‘user-UNfriendly’ than a Brethren ‘Breaking of Bread’ has yet to be conceived by man, so I started wondering why the intentionally planned ‘Gospel Service’ often worked no better than the ‘Breaking of Bread’. I do not claim to have a full answer, but I do think it has something to do with ‘I want what they have got’, rather than a ‘talking head’ proclaiming (however Biblically): ‘Stop believing what you believe – and start believing what I believe’.
As ‘they’ sometimes say: ‘Discuss’.
The value of testimonies is that nobody can argue with them.
As for Communion – what you say was also felt a few years ago by an interesting man called Francis Chan, who had founded a megachurch in California (called Cornerstone) and walked away from it at the height of its success to start a housechurch movement. He too came to feel that the breaking of bread was more important than he had given it credit for. You can find his words easily enough via Google.
There is no doubt that the supernatural is involved in Communion – i.e. it is a sacrament – but the big (and divisive!) question is: HOW?
Thanks Anthony, I think I have read about Francis Chan, or someone very similar.
I totally agree that the “big and divisive” question is (as it has been for centuries): HOW?
I am however not sure that there is much helpful meaning to the term ‘sacrament’. It appears nowhere in the NT or OT, and only appears in the Latin as a (mis)translation of μυστηριον (as at Eph. 5.32 – where it became responsible for the (strange) idea that marriage is a sacrament).
Personally, I am happy with Luther’s and Elisabeth 1st’s view that it is real (but not a matter of substance and accident), though Calvin may have something in thinking it is real, but discerned spiritually. What I (with Luther?) cannot cope with is that when Jesus said ‘this IS my body’, what he really meant was ‘this represents my body’.
Also, many modern Lutherans and others please note: Luther would be (or should that be: ‘is’) horrified that anyone would think he believed in CON-substantiation, his problem was with the Neo-Aristotelian and Scholastic (Thomist) idea(s) of ‘substance’ and ‘accident’.
Sorry to go on a bit, but as you said this is a BIG question.
Because they’re encountering the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. And if it’s an Open Brethren service presumably they’re having that encounter without partaking of the bread and wine.
Assuming you mean by ‘they’ the ‘unsaved’: absolutely!
The ‘saved’ were, of course, sharing the ‘common cup’ and the ‘one loaf’, though I rather suspect that the common cup usually did not contain real wine!
Ah, well, nobody’s perfect!
Richard Pamplin – I think I may be able to answer this, following my father’s experience. He was brought to faith (in the 1950’s), as a teenager, through a Brethern Fishermen’s meeting which his grandfather attended. At their meetings (breaking of bread), each of them would contribute a word, or prayer, or song. They took a passage of Scripture and discussed it – always within the context of the central gospel message, so this did get aired (at every ‘breaking of bread’ meeting – which was the only sort of meeting they had). He was impressed at the respectful approach they had for each other (none butting in, but always letting the other guy go first, ‘after you’). They would disagree sometimes, but they did this so gently and respectfully that you wouldn’t notice that they were disagreeing on some points unless you were listening very carefully. Anyway, the central gospel message was proclaimed – and in a good way; the interaction between the participants showed forth the spirit of fellowship.
I only know this second hand, because while he came to faith there and had great respect for them, he thought that other aspects of their set-up were very intrusive and, when we were children, he did not want us involved with a Brethern meeting. I think he may well have been right about this.
Presence of God at Communion.
When I first became a believer as an adult on an Alpha Course in the CoE there were one or two people ‘slain in the Spirit’ at the altar rail during the communion service. Now that was divisive.
Can’t recall that I’ve encountered that anywhere else, subsequently. They were people I knew as did the minister, and it was of God, not counterfeit, faked. Just How is is the Risen Christ remembered at communion, Christ at the last supper and or, indivisibly on the cross, and the tearing of the curtain into the Holy of Holies, the Presence of God.
‘Slain in the Spirit’ is a horrible phrase, but I accept the authenticity of what happened to your friends. What was that experience in their own words, please; and what fruits subsequently emerged?
The fruit was varied and manifold in their lives, in their marriages, family, in their devotion, worship and heart for the gospel, discernment, and perseverance under trials, testing, and health reversals, bereavement.
Slain in the Spirit, is a known expression, even if not liked.
Jonathan Edwards, you will be aware, wrote Religious Affections to evaluate revival manefestations.
Really interesting post – and lots of comments. And, if I may say, I’m a comedy writer and ‘stand-up theologian’ so have thought about this quite a lot! In general, I’d avoid making too much use of comedy in sermons, partly because it is so potent and needs to be handled with care. If you’re interested to know more, my book on this, The Sacred Art of Joking, is a fiver on kindle. And there’s an audible version read by me.
Excellent! Thanks.
From a biblical perspective the word used for Jesting
ranges from laughter [i.e. The “Crackling of thorns under a boiling pot”. Very much like a modern comedy show, people seldom can remember specific jokes but remember that they had a “good cackle” with the comedian, deemed a “good egg” there after.
Perhaps progressing to mockery of divine persons
: In 1611, the word “jesting” carried a stronger connotation of trivializing sacred things or mocking through light banter. The KJV translators chose a broad, direct English equivalent. By modern standards, however, “jesting” sounds innocent (like a court jester telling harmless jokes), which can obscure Paul’s sharper warning against moral compromise.
The Hebrew Words in the Old Testament focuses heavily on the character flaw behind the jesting, particularly looking at pride and rebellion, termed as Fools.
The Old Testament focuses heavily on the character flaw behind the jesting, particularly looking at pride and rebellion.
1. Luts (לוּץ) – To Scoff or Scorn
Some major translations approach the term with varying degrees of formal and dynamic equivalence:
ESV (“Crude Joking”) & NASB (“Vulgar Joking”)
These formal equivalence versions update the archaic language for modern clarity. Terms like “crude” and “vulgar” capture the historical degeneration of eutrapelia into off-colour or indecent speech.
NIV (“Coarse Joking”)
Too the extremities of when jesting becomes a cruel weapon. Weaponised to make sport of someone or treat them with utter derision, mock their failings and frailties.
“According to the Bible in Jude 1:9, the archangel Michael did not dare or presume to bring a railing (abusive or slanderous) accusation against the devil when they argued over the body of Moses. Instead, Michael said, “The Lord rebuke you!
Michael is called one of the chief princes, Daniel 10:13, and the great prince, Daniel 12:1;
“Durst not bring against him a railing accusation” — But so revered the divine presence as to speak with moderation and gentleness, even to that great enemy of God and men. Michael’s duty, says Archbishop Tillotson, “restrained him, and probably his discretion too. As he durst not offend God in doing a thing so much beneath the dignity and perfection of his nature, the cool consideration whereof should make all men, particularly those who call themselves divines, and especially in controversies about religion, ashamed and afraid of this manner of disputing.” But simply said — So great was his modesty! The Lord rebuke thee — I leave thee to the Judge of all. If the angel did not rail even against the devil, how much less ought we against men in authority, even supposing them in some things to behave amiss”?
Doddridge.
It much behoves us to walk circumspectly as those
who will be examined concerning every idle word we speak.
Mat 12:36 But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgement. Shalom.
What might be the focal point for the Ecclesia and Priest?
The Builders of the second Temple, Zerubbabel and Joshua the priest and the prophets faced with the rubble of the old Temple, their first act was to build an alter at the proposed entrance for it {As shown the pattern to Moses in the Mount.} Symbolic of the Cross.
For the church the cross might well be placed
at the entrance, perhaps with a legend saying
“Through death to Life” and is the way into the
Holiest of Holies and the presence of God.
After a long declension and neglect of the building
They had been cleansed of their idols but spiritually
back slidden to the point that Zerubbabel and Joshua were considered to be wearing “filthy, inappropriate
Ministerial garments” they needed to be re-clothed
and re-sanctified. [ the Temple Laver ].
The spirit of idolatry may well have been stirring amongst them
What are their and our idols ?
An idol is any misrepresentation, Misappropriation and Misunderstanding of the High and Holy God.
They were given a new revelation of God through the prophets as to how the Temple can only be built;
“Not by power, nor by might but by My Spirit
Says the Lord”, which runs right through to the end of the Scriptures.
Anything else may well be idolatry.
The rhythm of the Scriptures is one of Blessings – declensions – and falling away from the Sovereign preference for God’s Glory.
God in all His great grace sends them saviours, revelations , prophets, a holy remnant and a faithful Servant Saviour; rejection results in a destroyed Temple when they do not recognise “the things that belong to their peace”.
God always comes in when the ecclesia is at it’s wits end to resurrect, restore, revive and reignite to show that all the Glory belongs to Him.
Mat 24:4 And Jesus answered and said unto them, Take heed that no man deceives you.
Mark 4:2 Luke 11:35 Shalom.
Thanks very much for this great piece on homiletics, Ian. I really appreciated you sharing your experience of training and mentoring your students in preaching, as well as your practical guidance on how we can develop and craft the use of humour. I’m somewhat comforted at your reflections that even ‘bad jokes’ have their uses…
I’m not naturally gifted at using humour and interaction in sermons, though it is something I am seeking to craft, with the Lord’s help. I recently preached on Matthew 18:15-20, Jesus’ teaching on correcting a sinful church member, and the context was an all age service! I put it down to the Holy Spirit, that I found a way to make this otherwise sobering text accessible to the mix of generations. I pulled out a go-pak table and let it stand at the front of chuch for a few moments, and spoke about how Jesus is the one who comes and sets the table by his grace and love for us. In his death and rising from the dead, Jesus takes his place at the table as host.
The table proved to be a great ‘hook;’ some of the adults afterwards commented to me that they wondered what on earth I was doing! So I went from that beginning, asking the children (with the help of an adult) to bring their seat to the table. For effect, I put up a second go-pak table to accommodate the number of children gathering around. I made the point that this is what Jesus does, and this is what we do as church, we see to gather and grow the family of God.
Then, I said, families are complicated! And I got one of the boys to walk away from the table! The congregation were laughing away as I enacted out a hopeless attempt to draw this erring brother ‘back to the table,’ yet he refused to accept forgiveness! Then, I got a couple of the other children to come out to meet me with the lad. But he still refused to return! Then finally, I said, my only last hope was to get the whole family to reach out to our lost brother, with the whole congregation cheering as we walked together back to the table.
Conscious that I didn’t want to sanitise the text, I made the point that while this story had a happy ending, it doesn’t always happen this way, and some people will walk away, unrepentant of their sin. I concluded the sermon by saying that even though some will walk away, Jesus is always seeking that the lost to return to him, and therefore that is the heart he wants us to have as his people too.
Miraculously, the children all sat quietly and listened, and several adults told me afterwards they found the visual effect helpful for them. As well as being interactive, the humour and strangeness of the situation seemed to have a compelling effect. It worked so well that I used the framework again the following Sunday at a different church, even though it wasn’t an all age service there, and the effect was very similar.
On the specific use of humour, one line that met with belly laughs from the congregation on the second occasion was:
“The church is full of broken, messed up, hurting people… and that’s just the vicar!”
Not exactly church sermon but this guy is funny as well as hard hitting.
He also has a remarkable testimony.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PAT52Qxd_m4
Jesus uses a lot of humour.
We don’t get it because it’s Jewish humour, and it was 2,000 years ago. Humour does not easily travel across different times & leave alone different cultures.
His listeners would have heard the humour of the parables, then some would have gone away trying to work out what the message was. Some would have got it straight away, some after later reflection, some not at all.
Jewish humour is dry, ironic. Lost on us 20th century gentiles. Cue 19 century German theologians and 20C American scholars are not much better on subtle irony.
Irony, irony, irony. Scripture is full of it. Difficult to translate.
Especially when what is said ironically means the opposite of what the words seem to say.
Try translating “It’s a tough job but someone has to do it”.
A good starting point on Jewish humour/irony in scripture is “A Rabbi Reads the Bible” by Jonathan Magonet.
My Jewish cousin had the dryest humour of anyone I met.
Apologies – some of you will have noticed it is now the 21st century – I’ve not got there yet.
A bit like Geraint Thomas at the starting gate!
How well does that translate.
I’m flattered – a bit above my pay grade – but I’ll take it.
Yes, I have done that also, in the past.