Early this morning, on this Monday of what the church calls Holy or Passion Week, I step outside into the darkness, looking to the stars, pondering what Jesus endured on the way to his ignominious death. I want to replace the images of whips and thorns, nails piercing hands and feet, blood dripping down a wooden cross with something else: something more springlike, flowers wisping in a warm wind, perhaps.
But it’s not there. Not today.
I don’t like watching the episode depicting Jesus’ cruel death on The Chosen, much less the even more gory enactments in Mel Gibson’s film, The Passion of Christ. I want to look away.
But then, as I think about what Christ went through, my sadness gives way to gratitude, and gratitude to joy.
My furrowed brow relaxes as I softly smile.
That’s why the Eastern Orthodox theologian, Father Alexander Schmemann, described the season of Lent as a time of “bright sadness.” It softens our hearts to experience the joy of the resurrected Christ.
Even amid the somberness that characterizes much of this week in the liturgical cycle of the church, Christians still have cause for joy, for Easter is always in our hearts, even as we gaze toward it on the horizon, waiting for its celebration.
It’s the anticipation of joy that helps us through the losses of this life. Indeed, the Scripture says Jesus endured the cross, “because of the joy awaiting him” (Hebrews 12:2).
On Easter Sunday, sadness turns to joy, tears of sorrow to shouts of praise, and mourning into dancing.
I’m planning to begin that day by laughing.
I decided to do that after reading about an Early Church tradition. Following the thrill of the resurrection on Sunday, the early saints gathered together on Monday to feast, sing, and dance. One author commented on this practice: “With Eastertide began the ‘laughing of the redeemed and the dancing of the liberated.'”
Some believe John Chrysostom (c. 349-407), Archbishop of Constantinople, inspired this tradition by an Easter midnight sermon. In that message, he described a vision he had of Christ confronting the devil. To Chrysostom’s amazement, Christ laughed at the devil.
It makes sense: Satan thought he had won on Friday, but God had the last laugh on Sunday. It was God’s cosmic joke on Satan.
And so the tradition began and was carried down through the years. Priests would join with people in telling their best jokes for one another. Laughter prevailed.
St. Francis of Assisi advised, “Leave sadness to the devil. The devil has reason to be sad.”
Martin Luther echoed the same truth, “God is not a God of sadness, but the devil is. Christ is a God of joy. It is pleasing to God whenever you rejoice or laugh from the bottom of your heart.”
And Michelangelo admonished his fellow artists: “Why do you keep filling gallery after gallery with endless pictures of…Christ upon the cross, Christ dying, Christ hanging dead? Why do you stop there as if the curtain closed upon that horror? Keep the curtain open, and with the cross in the foreground, let us see beyond it to the Easter dawn with its beams streaming upon the risen Christ…”
John Wesley quipped, “Sour godliness is the devil’s religion.”
Here’s the truth: Satan can’t stand laughter when it comes as a result of God’s chosen people celebrating the risen Christ. So believers have reason to rejoice every day of the year. Because of Christ’s resurrection, we have the assurance of being “more than conquerors” (Romans 8:37), “joint heirs with him” (Romans 8:17), “the apple of God’s eye” (Zechariah 2:8), “the redeemed” (Isaiah 43:1), and “children of God” (John 1:12).
Why wouldn’t we laugh, unless we forget that God’s Kingdom is as real as the resurrection of the Son, Jesus Christ, who burst forth from the empty tomb—ground zero—the “day the revolution began,” in the words of N.T. Wright. The resurrection happened; Jesus is alive; He is with us today in the power and comfort of the Holy Spirit.
Think about that. Then walk outside, look to the heavens, ponder your destiny with the King of kings and Lord of lords, and listen to yourself as you rejoice with some holy hilarity.