Making God Laugh

Background: Philosopher Peter Kreeft during a Pints With Aquinas podcast interview; Inset: Book cover image of Ha!: A Christian Philosophy of Humor (Pints With Aquinas/Screengrab via YouTube; Cover Image via Amazon)

A new book makes the case that humor is heavenly.

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A new book makes the case that humor is heavenly.

Ha! A Christian Philosophy of Humor, by Peter Kreeft (St. Augustine’s Press)

T he record-breaking TV series The Chosen has astonished, dumbfounded, and enchanted millions of viewers worldwide since airing in 2017. Its thoughtful approach to the scriptures and interesting representation of key biblical characters is remarkable. What has surprised me, however, is actor Jonathan Roumie’s portrayal of Jesus, specifically his inclusions of humor.

What kind of scandal is this? None at all! Why shouldn’t God-made-man crack jokes and tease his followers? Renowned philosopher Peter Kreeft would certainly agree, and he has in fact written a whole delightful book on humor.


Actually, this 100-page volume is probably the shortest, funniest philosophy book you’ll ever read. As Kreeft says in his introduction: “This book is neither a better philosophy of humor to replace and transcend all existing ones, nor is it a synthesis of existing ones, a ‘survey.’ It’s not factual or historical. In fact its main purpose is not even theoretical but practical: it is to make you laugh, and thus to make you happy.” It is the rare writer who can weave jokes seamlessly into his writing without sounding hackneyed or silly. It is even rarer to find a funny philosopher. Kreeft has managed it, though, continuously moving his readers deftly from comedy to thoughtfulness and back again.

For so brief a book, Ha! (such an appropriate title) has quite the lengthy introduction. Kreeft uses it carefully, though, explaining his purpose in writing the book (it was a ploy by his guardian angel to get him away from the depressing book Kreeft was planning to loose upon the world explaining the difficulties of classifying humor. “My title is not simply ‘A Philosophy of Humor.’ There are many philosophers of humor, and many philosophies of humor. And every one of them is wrong somehow. . . . Humor cannot be reduced to any other terms, or explained in any other categories, or reduced to any other concepts, or analyzed into any number of parts.”); and generally driving home the fact that God is the master comedian.




Sprinkled throughout the book — and filling the entire appendix — are jokes. They startle us, illustrate points, and ultimately make us laugh. Kreeft makes it clear that humor is “healthy, happy, and holy” but that Western civilization right now is none of those things. He’s doing his bit to revive this understanding of humor.


Kreeft cites author Michael O’Brien’s definition of humor as “the delight of suddenly expanded perspective.” This neatly illustrates Kreeft’s insistence that humor requires our cooperation and our loss of control. Not in a wild sort of way, but a realization that “when we laugh we are not in control but in receptivity; not in the driver’s seat but in the passenger’s seat.”

Humor is also a weapon, one that “enrages the tormentor and persecutor, because it reveals something — some reality or some point of view or some mode of consciousness or something — that transcends the tormentor’s superior power and refuses to bow before it.” I’ve often seen humor’s effectiveness in my own family life, how it functions as a weapon against pride and selfishness, a way of fighting division, and a means of combating fear-filled situations. Even our funeral receptions have seen this powerful tool at work, helping us balance the sorrow with meaningful memories.

Kreeft segments his book into nine chapters, each covering humor’s role in various key aspects of our lives. “Humor and Goodness,” “Humor and Truth,” “Humor and Suffering” — the list is intriguing and does not disappoint. Most striking to this reader was Kreeft’s observation, under the heading of “Humor and Time,” about weeping and laughter:

When weeping comes first, it enhances the laughing afterwards. . . . Weeping is essentially temporal, temporary, a process. Weeping may be unending in Hell, but it is not eternal. Eternity is not unending time; it transcends time. Laughter, however, and the joy that prompts it, is made for eternity and fits eternity. [My emphasis]

Could you ask for a more exhilarating, incredible revelation? Joy unceasing. Joy unspeakable.

This paradox of a book deserves to be taken both lightly and seriously. Jokes, puns, and wordplay shock the unsuspecting reader into laughter, while eye-opening musings on the nature of God and man feed our hungry souls.

Kreeft ends his piece with a wonderful G. K. Chesterton quotation, which you must read in full (there is more to it), making this point about Christ:

There was something that He covered constantly by abrupt silence or impetuous isolation. There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when he walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was His mirth.

Perhaps so. But thanks to our friend Jonathan Roumie, and now to the writings of one exceptional professor, we can begin to understand that this mirth is really, truly there, ready to sweep us up in a mighty rush of joy.

Sarah Schutte is the podcast manager for National Review and an associate editor for National Review magazine. Originally from Dayton, Ohio, she is a children's literature aficionado and Mendelssohn 4 enthusiast.
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