Scottish Catholic Observer

There can be few things in life better than a really good laugh—those few moments when we can put all our worries and woes to the back of our minds and just let go, just be free.

All my life I’ve been surrounded by comedians, conscious or otherwise. My mum was hilarious, my dad not so much, at least not until his final illness when we had many laugh-out-loud funny moments. Apparently my maternal grandfather was a music-hall comedian. I always seem to have been able to have a good laugh and, much like a good cry, it really can be good for you.

I feel certain someone has done some research on the issue and shown that a good bout of laughter releases chemicals into our brains that enhance our wellbeing. To most of us it’s just obvious: we know instinctively that laughter makes us feel good.

All very interesting, I hear you say—or perhaps not—but what exactly does this have to do with anything? It’s just that recently I’ve had two occasions when I’ve been in tears with laughter and it felt so good and it made me think. It especially got me thinking about how I’m desperate not to become too curmudgeonly in my old age (too late, I hear you shout!)

Writing this monthly column has shown me that, like most people, I have a tendency to concentrate on looking back to the ‘good old days,’ to the halcyon days of yore when everything was better, everyone kinder, life was less stressful, summer lasted for months, not days, winter was full of crisp snow and gingerbread, not mucky slush and Lemsip. You know the kind of thing I mean. There were a lot of good things in the past that we are in danger of forgetting and therefore losing. And although there are a lot of good things in our present times, there are many things which I know I really struggle with and find worrying. One of my current preoccupations is how we communicate with each other: I find I’m increasingly oppressed by the number of ways that people can communicate with me—or at least try to.

You can call me on the mobile or one of the two landlines (home and work). You can text me, Facebook message me or put a post on Facebook, or you can get in touch by one of our two email addresses (the Sisters or Pro-Life Initiative one). You can Whatsapp me or FaceTime me and, if all else fails, you can just try talking to me face to face. It’s all just too much. I seriously yearn to return to good old pen and paper as my default setting, but I know it’s impossible. You can’t put the genie back in the bottle.

So where’s the connection with laughter? Well, just that so often these days when I’m in the company of people of all ages, but especially of young people, I’m always being asked to watch some hilarious clip that’s doing the rounds of Facebook or YouTube. Quite often these clips are funny, but I suppose I just prefer the laughter and hilarity which comes from telling stories and offering observations about everyday life. I love comedians like Kevin Bridges, Peter Kay and even Billy Connolly (when he’s not cursing too much or going on about the Church). All three make me laugh because I can relate to what they’re saying. I’ve got the uncle who does a wedding dance like Peter Kay’s; I can relate to Kevin Bridges’ dug-not-dog sketch and, as for Billy Connolly’s ‘my feet are stuck in the arms of the duvet’ sketch, I remember it 30 years on.

I’m just a bit worried at how often people, especially our young people, share something funny which has nothing to do with them, because at the end of our days our memories are very important to us. It’s one thing, and often a good thing, to share these stories in a virtual and impersonal way. But I think it’s always better to share something from our own experience.

As the great Welsh comedian Max Boyce used to say ‘I know cos I was there!’ I bet you read that in a Welsh accent—if you’re old enough, that is.

As it is with laughter, so it is with faith. The sharing of our faith should be like the telling of the best experience of our lives. If we have a personal and vibrant relationship with Christ, then it just becomes second nature that we will want to share it. We will want to tell the tale; we will want to spread the knowledge and the joy of the message of Christ. How we do that is up to us, but that we must do it is not an optional extra. Ours is a faith and a friendship made for sharing.

It is part of who we are that should make us want to spread the Gospel, and if we can do it with a smile on our face and laughter in our eyes, then so much the better. Comedians come and go, tears of laughter dry up, our split sides return to normal but the love of God is eternal.

True joy, which comes from Christ, is the real measure of our lives.

So instead of ‘Did you hear the one about the rabbi, the minister and the priest?’ maybe we should concentrate on ‘Did you hear the one about the Son of God, Jesus Christ?’