Jesus wept, Jesus wept;
He never laughed, just cried.
In all the Gospels, tell me once
Did he see the funny side?
Poor, lied-to, broken, holy man,
Who suffered for our sins,
If you believe, or not, by God,
He paid for all our grins.
Then don’t we owe it back to him
That we should crack our face,
With heavenward heads and howls of mirth
At our sweet, cracked, human race?
It is true that, though he weeps several times, Jesus never once laughs in the Gospels. The only record of God laughing in the Old Testament is when he is deriding mankind’s weaknesses or laughing at us as he punishes us. He relishes our pain. If anyone can offer me another interpretation of that I am willing to hear it, I really am, because that is chilling whether you are a believer or not. I don’t believe in God, who seems to me indifferent at best – and that’s using all my human charity – but I do believe in powerful stories and that they can be, in mysterious ways, truer than the “Truth.” I think I believe in an extraordinary man called Jesus who had some sort of a handle on some sort of truth, and that’s the best I can do.
Brought to you by a pain in-the-arse-day in bed with some virus that is making my neck feel like a knotty sapling. Gah!