Too soon?
John 20: 19-29
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
April 27, 2025
First, I need to do a little exegesis, some interpretation for the next hymn we’ll be singing after the sermon. It was written in the UK and so it uses words and imagery from their culture, like brickbat. I think we can figure out what that is. One of the lyrics uses the phrase “deep in earth’s jam-butty mines your rainbow still appears”. And I didn’t want you asking yourself, “What on earth is a jam-butty? Do I even want to know?” while you were singing the hymn. A jam-butty is a jam and butter sandwich. The idea of “jam-butty mines” is a tongue-in-cheek way of describing the act of getting jam out of a jar, as if it were a treasure trove. The author uses this imagery as reference to a children’s television show in which jam-butty mines was a make-believe place for jam-butty connoisseurs and jam-butty buffs. And any hope of that being funny has now evaporated.
When it comes to jokes or language, context is important if it is to be understood. For instance, William Shakespeare’s use of the word “zounds”. Ole’ Willy Slickspeare, that merchant of menace, England’s poet snoreate, Mr. Julius Sleazer, King Jeer himself used the very bad swearing words of his day, which was to swear by Jesus’ blood (“bloody” or “sblood” – a contraction of swearing by His blood) and by Jesus’ wounds (“zounds” – a contraction by His wounds). Even though Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection occurred more than 1,500 years before Mr. Five Act Jack was penning his plays, it was thought that swearing in such a manner would result in further bodily injury to Jesus. Apparently, 1500 years was too soon.
But a few days after he was crucified to be raised from the dead was not too soon for Jesus. Not too soon to be in the company of those who deserted him. Not too soon to answer a challenge from one who doubted him. Not too soon to bare the scars of his wounds from his violent death. I don’t know. Maybe he was thinking, “Hey, I died the most horrible, humiliating death there is. What else is there? I’m free.”
I’m pretty sure he’d laugh at this one. Did you hear about the time Jesus walked into a hotel, set down three nails on the desk, and asked “Can you put me up for the night?”
And so we laugh the Sunday after Easter. The Risus Paschalis – the Easter laugh, a Christian tradition that goes back centuries and is now being revived, shall we say resurrected in recent decades. Death and its power over us are mocked because God had the last laugh. Often though when we are going through something painful or something tragic has occurred, we will make a joke or someone else will and ask, “Too soon?” as a way of softening what may feel like a low blow.
In the world of comedy there is a fine line, we might even call it a thin space between laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt. Many comedians will say that their comedy was born from their own wounds, whether it’s racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, or a painful childhood. Sometimes comedy comes from being disabled, living with chronic pain, depression or anxiety, or cancer. I saw a movie clip in which a young woman has just gotten a cancer diagnosis instead of the positive pregnancy test she was hoping for. She and her husband are lying in bed in the shadows, looking up at the ceiling. She sighs and says wryly, “Well, at least we won’t have to pay for college.” He replies, “Not unless it’s a very smart tumor.” Humor is what helps us get through the hard stuff.
The only kind of humor that can help only so long but then needs to die its own death is self-deprecatory humor, when we make fun of ourselves for a laugh. Comedian Hannah Gadsby who is queer, asks us, “Do you understand what self-deprecation means when it comes from somebody who already exists in the margins? It’s about humiliating myself in order to speak.” When we laugh together, we create a bond between us, but we want that bond based on humor that builds up, not humor that degrades and diminishes.
In this world of greed and violence and uncertainty, we have been trained to care more about reputation than about humanity, and we will do anything to protect one the first one including destroying the second. Which makes it dangerous to be different. Jesus understood that it is dangerous to be different. For the most part, he didn’t care about what people thought of him, but rather what people who were different thought of themselves. Did they believe that they were worthy? Did they know that God loved them no matter what? Did they live that way with their neighbors?
As Christ’s body in the world, the Church is called to be different, to live in that thin space between laughter and pain, where we are willing to do anything to protect humanity in the margins including destroying our reputation.
Which is hard work, maybe the hardest work of all. And so it is never too soon to practice resurrection, to look for Jesus, to say “I have seen the Lord!” It is never too soon to be gentle with our wounds and listen to them and those of others and do what is necessary for them to heal. It is never too soon to throw a custard cream pie in the face of death. It is never too soon to laugh, to practice and share all the resurrection ways like joy and play, rest and pleasure, art and music and dance and love most of all. These are not only for resistance and resilience, but they are also the very stuff of life lived well. They are what makes every morning Easter morning. Amen.
Benediction – enfleshed.com (adapted)
We will not be limited by narrow-mindedness,
nor by stories of the way things have always been.
We are people of Radical Possibility. We are Easter people.
Beloveds, be joyful though you have considered all the facts.
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