In praise of hilarity

Charles Stevenson reflects on some words from Psalm 98

Doubled over in uncontrollable laughter, mirth pulsing through the entire body, and an underlying relaxation amongst confidantes. This is the excitement that my nephews, young university chaps, enjoy. Happiness abounds. ‘Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee’ – Ecclesiastes 11:9.

The enormous fun of a simple game of Ludo – not to win, but to make wonderful fun of the whim of the dice: laughter at the luck, wisecracks about the despair. There is imaginative invoking of magic, reciting incantations, or trusting the luck of the throw of a child! All this to the rhythm of some lively music, writhing their bodies in their seats, hands waving to the beat. All the time the mother dances and sings in the kitchen as she prepares the meal.

This all stems from years of having to improvise amidst the poverty of an African refugee camp – learning to live cheerfully without the income that we Westerners regard as inalienable, and living without all the gadgets and chattels of modern society. There are blessings as well as the disadvantages to be found in most situations. Even in John Woolman’s dream of people in as deep misery as there could be, there was the positive outcome of Woolman finding a deeper life: ‘Henceforth I might not consider myself as a distinct or separate being.’

Behind this uncontrolled laughter is no vacant mind; but a wisdom, a mature wisdom, an acute assessment of the human condition, and a cheerful acceptance of human foibles where I would become impatient. Sent off from a nearby basketball ring because they were assumed to be the local riff-raff – because of the colour of their skin, they joked happily on their way to a public park, even though they knew they had been subject to a bit of racism. The park turned out to be a wonderful place: Muslims, Christians, Hindus and who-knows-what all mingling jovially together.

In my rather sober existence of genteel dinner parties, sanitised conversation, polite questions about the health and welfare of others, I am too proper. I need to let myself go. This is perhaps the greatest lesson I have learnt in my recent sojourn in Birmingham.

Thank goodness the days of Charles Lamb have long since gone when he couldn’t become a Quaker because he liked to laugh! I long for the mirth of my young friends. It obliterates one-upmanship, vanity, and the know-all, belittling attitudes that are so rampant in my milieu.

I believe my young friends in their wholesome joy, bent over in laughter, are giving unadulterated praise to God, fulfilling in a unique way Psalm 98: ‘Make a joyful noise unto the Lord.’

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