Does God have a sense of humour?

I've got to be honest and say that I've been in some churches over the years where laughter was almost seen as ungodly; the belief seemed to exist that to laugh in church was likely to upset the Almighty!  Thank God that attitude has almost disappeared, and most Christians have come to recognise that laughter is part of the world which God created.  Some people point out that there is no record of Jesus having laughed.  That's true, but I'm sure that some of the stories he told had people laughing (How can a camel fit through the eye of a needle?  How can I remove a speck from my friend's eye when I have a plank in my own eye?)  His saying, 'Happy are you who weep now, you will laugh!' (Luke 6:21) surely implies that laughter is a good and positive thing?  

Scientists tell us that laughter can have many health benefits.  I like to think that I have a sense of humour, although if you asked my family they would probably disagree (somehow they don't seem to be on the same laughter wavelength as me!)  I find humour comes from lots of different sources.  For example, Sue and I are currently in the process of helping her elderly aunt pack her home ready for moving down to live near us.  With this in mind, we ordered a large roll of bubble-wrap.  It caused us both some laughter when the bubble wrap arrived wrapped in "fragile" stickers!!

A couple of weeks ago I was passing through Leicester market and witnessed a couple of examples of market traders' humour.  The first was capitalising on the recent publicity around the discovery of the remains of Richard III:

A tongue-in-cheek claim that the lamp for sale was used by Richard III in 1485 on the night before the famous battle of Bosworth!  I'm not sure whether anyone was gullible enough to believe the claim.

The other humorous notice in the market area was an advertising board for a shoe repairer:

I suppose that some might find it slightly offensive, but I saw it as a witty play on words, indicating that the creator of the sign knew the heart of the Christian gospel.  Very soon we move into the period which the Church calls Advent.  It is a time of preparation for the celebration of the coming of Jesus Christ into our world.  God loved this world so much that he sent his own Son to live as one of us.  Jesus did come to bring healing to the sick and the offer of forgiveness and new life to all.  Yes, he did die a criminal's death.  But he rose from the dead, and is alive forever more.  He is still the source of Hope for the world today.

I appreciated the shoe repairer's humour, but let's not forget the true message of Christmas.

The tough choice to forgive

In preparing for last week's Remembrance Sunday services, I was struck again by the enormous cost of war in terms of human casualties.  WWI saw around 10m military and 7m civilian deaths, not to mention countless other casualties through injury, bereavement, loss of homes etc.  If that wasn't bad enough, during the Second World War some 60m people lost their lives, which was around 2.5% of the world's population at the time - a number almost beyond comprehension.  Behind those bare statistics lay the stories of countless individuals whose lives were affected in so many ways.  When an event so horrific happens, one of the issues which inevitably surfaces is the question of forgiveness.  How can such evil be forgiven?

I suppose that the thorny issue of forgiveness has been one with which human beings have long had to wrestle.  I was touched by reading recently an article about a lady called Maureen Greaves.  On Christmas Eve last year, Maureen's husband Alan was brutally attacked on his way to midnight mass at his local church in Sheffield.  He subsequently died from his injuries; it transpired that he was chosen at random by his attackers.  Naturally, Maureen and her family were left devastated by their loss.

As a Church Army evangelist, Maureen was familiar with the call of Jesus to live the life of forgiveness.  But how could she forgive the men who had so senselessly and mercilessly taken her soul mate from her?  In her own words, "What am I going to do with the people who have murdered him?  I suddenly knew that these men were going to be a big issue."

Despite the difficulty of her situation, Maureen knew that both Alan and God would want her to choose forgiveness.  This is what she prayed: "Please take from me the burden of carrying the men that have murdered Alan.  Help me to truly and fully forgive them and give me grace to continue, all my life, in that position of forgiveness.  Take any hatred that may creep in and may I be able to show this forgiveness and grace to others."  The decision to forgive must have been a struggle, and Maureen admits to having to return regularly to that prayer.

Of course, to forgive does not mean that we do not seek justice, and it doesn't mean that we will necessarily forget.  Yet, the reality is that forgiveness can still be hard.  I hope and pray that if I were in a situation similar to that of Maureen Greaves I would respond in the same way.  In truth, we always have a choice: either to forgive, or to hold onto bitterness and resentment.  Ultimately the choice to forgive is always the best choice, for as Nelson Mandela, has said:  “Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.”

How do we remember them?

John Alexander McCrae was born in 1872 in Ontario, Canada. He became a medical doctor; when World War I broke out he was appointed a field surgeon in the Canadian artillery.  Not surprisingly, he witnessed some terrible sights. McCrae's friend Alexis Helmer, was killed in battle; Helmer’s burial inspired McCrae to write his now famous poem, "In Flanders Fields"…

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below...

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields...

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands, we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields…

On January 28, 1918, John McCrae died of pneumonia. His name lives on through the words of his poem.  The particular words which have stood out to me as I have re-read the poem this year are these:

To you from failing hands, we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

It seems to me that McCrae is demanding that we make sure that the sacrifice of those who gave their lives should not be in vain.  They gave their lives believing that they were fighting against tyranny and oppression, fighting to make the world a better place.  Jesus himself laid down his life for the world; to reconcile us to God, and to show us the better way, the way of love, compassion, servanthood, self-sacrifice.  So how do we bear the torch?  How are we seeking to make the sacrifice of others worthwhile?  Are our lives a blessing to others?  Are we making the world a better place?  It’s easy to say the words “We will remember them”, but if those words are to have true meaning, we need to understand what we are remembering and let it make a difference to how we live our lives.