Sunny Side Up June 21, 2006 �2006, Kathleen Gibson Getting rid of the 'holy scowl' Laughing hard for three minutes, experts say, burns as many calories as fifteen minutes of paddling a canoe. If that's true, I just rowed a river. I laughed all morning. I haven't guffawed like that since the day my computer read back to me what I'd just written - in a Scandinavian accent. I still don't understand how or why, but I laughed so hard that when I looked in the mirror later I counted three new laugh lines. Today I laughed for a different reason. I've been researching (and writing!) 'church' jokes: Have you heard about the hottest new lingerie at some exclusive women's boutiques? A new line of brassieres called 'Holy Holders'. They come in several different denominational types. The Catholic type supports the masses. The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen, the Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright, and the Baptist type makes mountains out of mole hills. The price? A freewill offering. Then there were the three preachers who got together for coffee once a year to compare notes. They discovered that since they'd last met they'd all fought an infestation of rats in their church basements. Two of the pastors said they'd tried everything, even calling an exterminator, but the rats wouldn't leave. The third grinned smugly and said. "I licked that problem for good. I baptized every one, and made 'em church members. Then I put a collection plate in the middle of the basement. They only came back twice - on Christmas Eve and Easter Sunday." I especially love this one: A kindergarten teacher gave her children a 'show and tell' assignment of bringing a symbol of their religion to show the class. Theresa stood up and said, "I'm Orthodox and this is our special cross." Daniel stood up and said, "I'm Jewish and this is a Star of David." Lakshmi stood up and said, "I'm Hindu, and this is a sacred cow idol." Little Tommy went last. He stood, donned his mittens. Carrying his symbol in a sturdy paper bag, he made his way to the front of the classroom, where he gingerly opened it. "I'm Baptitht," he said, lifting out a large dish, "and thith ith a catherole." Are you laughing? Did you even manage a chuckle? "What is it with so many Christians?" someone complained to me recently, frustrated. "If they actually laughed, they'd crack their faces, I think. Does the Bible say somewhere that you're holier if you scowl all the time? Because if it does, I've missed it." Two years ago my brother and sister-in-law gave me a journal for my birthday. Covered with cheerful pansies, my favorite flower. I decided to record in it only my 'belly laughs,' the things that crack me up past the point of breathing normally. Today, it has one entry. Oh dear, I'm realizing. Maybe I'm one of those scowling Christians. Lord, help! Tickle me (and my fellow followers) with the feather of your divine joy - and may others notice. Respond Home |
 |
 |