I Need Me Some Funny Jesus... Always
“I Need Me Some Funny Jesus”
Dr. Allison Andrews
Dedicated to Sheri Redden and Stephanie Atwood Brown (four years ago and today)
In November of 22, 2014 the residents in my neighborhood may have resented me a tad. We had our Christmas lights installed early, and they were glaringly bold in their bright lonesomeness among the other dark houses, whose occupants have the respect to wait until after Thanksgiving. Compounding this public relations problem with my neighborhood was the fact that I currently had two hilarious decorator friends, Sherri Redden and Stephanie Brown, helping me set up the more taxing portions of Christmas regalia. They revamped the front door garland, for one thing. I remember how the entire afternoon, cars slowed down and stared at our front door process. Except for my next door neighbor who immediately wanted the names of my helpers for herself, all interested parties seem to pity/judge our lack of deference to Thanksgiving. What they did NOT know is that we had been giving thanks all day long. A friendship sprouted between the three of us, as we wrestled with old ribbons and rip off berries that have lost their red. Many outrageous statements were made and kindred spirits born in the midst. Every 10 minutes, one of us blurted, “I just love you” or “Oh my gosh, why weren’t we friends in high school!”
In our irreverence, we three spouted hilarity all day! Inevitably, with women, there are always moments of serious reflection which usually occurs in juxtaposition to something naughty that one of us let roll off of our tongues. In our case, we talked about Jesus and whether or not he would “send us to hell” for not doing better in our lives and not reading the Bible more. After pondering (with fear and trembling) the prospect of eternal damnation, Sherri proclaimed in a loud voice: “but you know, I need me some funny Jesus!” And in the power of that insight, She and I felt compelled to have a photo session in front of my new garland. We posed as Saturday Night Live’s Mary Katherine Gallagher character, lunging on one knee, arms up and forward with the SNL's “SUPERSTARRRRR” symbol, with Stephanie as the professional photographer.
Look, we all “need us some funny Jesus.” This is not heresy. Jesus was fully God and fully human. He had a deep appreciation for his fellow humans, their foibles and their traits. He could even take a joke at his expense. Remember how Nathanial made fun of Jesus’ hometown, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” It would be highly unlikely for Jesus to be fully human but miss one of the most prominent character traits imprinted on us by God: humor. God, in His Son, made the inescapable point, “I’m in this with you!”
Sometimes, we make assumptions about Christ that are false because our understanding of His teachings is incomplete. Consider that Jesus had to have been clever, witty and even funny. His subtle humor often reveals itself as he minsters and teaches to his kinsmen. His parables were highly original, and he had quirky and often cutting remarks to make to the religious elite and the obtuse. Jesus spoke and thought as an intelligent, clever, and insightful contemporary with his friends and foes.
When my new friend, Sherri, confessed to me that she yells up at Jesus in the shower in the morning, I’m was quite certain he was pleased that she thought of him first thing in the day - and also “lol –ing” at her brazen approach!
Sour faced, overly serious, unfriendly Christians do not represent the person of Christ. “I am in you and you are in me,” he tells us. With that, we give thanks for the God-given ability for shared humor in life that brings with it gratitude for the absurd, the unlikely, the ridiculous, and the goofy. We all need us some funny Jesus!
Postscript:
We need us some "funny Jesus" when life itself has soured. Three years after that great day of decorating, in mid January of 2018, I met with my most extreme need for a smile from my heavenly Father. My ex husband abruptly shocked me with his immediate intent to file for divorce. I sat in my previously decorated red and yellow hearth room for the 40 minute conversation, yielding to the determinations of a soul whose mind was fixed and unmoving. With a gust of wind, the man of my life was off to his new digs.
The following 6 months kept me glued and stuck in that same hearth room where my life of 28 years married to one man tragically ended. I never moved from the same couch where I sat and faced his unemotional and unyielding announcement. I could not smile, laugh, talk, eat, and often found it hard to breath.
Now.... I mourn still. But I live, I move, I talk a little more, and yes, I finally laugh again I find joy mixed with grief. Here is the crux of a joy-filled faith in a Savior who will laugh with us: He also cries with us, and mourns with us, and sits still with us, and waits for us in our paralysis.
These days, Jesus and I are having a harder time working through the deep thoughts. Questions of "why, what next, and where now?" are only briefly floated out to Him.
In this season of my life, "The Great I Am" knows full well that this little "I am" would finish that declarative name with adjectives: "I am scalded, wounded, angry, searching, fearful, and needy." The One who says "abide in me" stays put while I wander with my mind and my previously strong convictions. He knows and I know that, like a toddler who pushes away from her mother, I will come back for the hug and the reassurance needed - so that I can keep exploring and questioning a new life which I still don't understand.
Through this, a few things are clear. Even in the most extreme seasons of upheaval, we humans "do what we know." In my case, I made a new home. For me, the idea and of "home"; being home, having a home and feeling home are innate. When I emerged from the excruciating process of "division of assets," I sold the home where Jesus had been funny and the decorations had burgeoned. I could never leave the damn hearth room anyway! Every spot was filled with memories and love that had been rendered irrelevant. I looked for a smaller spot, a new place with new faces.
Still in Tyler and navigating the awkward moments and unpredictable grief attacks, I find relief in different places and ways. I surrounded myself in a neighborhood that gives me a "hug" every time I turn on my street. Wrapped in the warmth of the historic Azalea District of Tyler, my little blue bungalow envelops and warms me and my adult children (when they can make it home.) And guess what, funny Jesus came again this year.... OF ALL YEARS!
Sherri and Stephanie came to make my new, old "1937 home" glitter and buzz for Christmas. Because I lost my beloved family ornaments in the move, they improvised. The end result was an entirely "PINK CHRISTMAS." And having emerged from a divorce, the rationale is simple: it's pink BECAUSE I CAN! And that... in and of itself, is funny. If I'm going to find myself divorced, I might as well own it! LET EVERYTHING BE PINK!!! My two living room sofas are pink velvet. My master bedroom is painted a tasteful pink, and there is a pink hue throughout the house (except for the upstairs in deference to the individual choices of my children.)
As the house became even MORE pink at Christmas, it also became increasingly humorous. A freedom emerged from the previous grief. If life is going to hand me lemons, I'm going to make lemonade. PINK lemonade.
