Part II: The Saints were funnier than we think

Part II: The Saints were funnier than we think

The saints understood something many of us forget: a person who takes God seriously does not need to take him/herself seriously.
One of the most beloved stories concerns St. Lawrence.
When Roman officials demanded the treasures of the Church, St. Lawrence gathered the poor and presented them before the authorities.
“These,” he said, “are the treasures of the Church.”
Even facing martyrdom, he refused to surrender either truth or joy.

The Desert Fathers often used humor in a similar way.
A young monk once asked Abba Macarius how to become holy.
The elder told him to go to the cemetery and insult the dead.
The monk obeyed.
“What did they say?” asked Macarius.
“Nothing.”
Then the elder told him to return and praise them.
Again the monk obeyed.
“What did they say?”
“Nothing.”
“Then be like them,” said the elder.
“Pay no attention to either praise or insult.”
The lesson is memorable because it is slightly ridiculous.

The Saints knew that wisdom often enters through a side door.
St Philip Neri became famous for puncturing pride with laughter.
When admirers tried to place him on a pedestal, he found ways to appear foolish.
He understood how quickly religious admiration can become spiritual poison.

Humility is not thinking poorly of ourselves.
Humility is freedom from the exhausting need to maintain an image.
The Saints could laugh because they no longer needed to protect their reputations.
They had entrusted themselves to God.
That freedom produced joy.
Not shallow happiness.
Not entertainment.
Joy.
The kind of joy that not only survives suffering but rests in the One greater than our circumstances.

Reflection Questions
In your daily routine, how often do you find yourself exhausted by the need to maintain a certain image or reputation?
What is one practical way you can choose to “not take yourself too seriously” this week to open a door for God’s grace?

Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, deliver me from the exhausting work of trying to appear wiser, holier, or more important than I am.
Teach me to recognize Your treasures in the poor, the forgotten, and the overlooked.
Free me from slavery to either praise or insult, remembering that Your judgment alone is true.
When pride makes me solemn about myself, grant me the humility to laugh.
When others admire me, keep me watchful; when they misunderstand me, keep me peaceful; and when suffering comes, keep me rooted in Your joy.
Give me the freedom of Your saints: not to think poorly of myself, but to think of myself less—
because my life, my reputation, and my hope are safely entrusted to You.
And when I begin constructing a pedestal for myself, send me enough holy foolishness to climb down before I fall off.
For You alone are holy, and to You belong all glory, honour, and worship, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.