John 20:19-31

I served a church in Marin County for nearly 15 years, and for nine of those years, we celebrated the Sunday after Easter as Holy Humor Sunday. Holy Humor Sunday is the revival of an old Easter custom begun in the early centuries of Christianity known as “Risus paschalis,” the “Easter laugh.” The custom was rooted in the musings of early church theologians, including Augustine, Gregory of Nyssa, and John Chrysostom, that God played a practical joke on the devil by raising Jesus from the dead. For centuries in Eastern Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant countries, the Sunday after Easter was known as Bright Sunday, and the week following Easter Sunday was observed by the faithful as days of joy and laughter with parties and picnics to celebrate Jesus’ resurrection.

I’m not sure when this fell out of fashion. Was it with the Puritans, or during the Victorian Era? Was it during the 20th century with its own brand of Puritanism? Somehow, the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection with joy and laughter became sorely neglected. Let’s face it: laughing in church hasn’t been encouraged. Many of us learned at an early age that giggling or laughing in church would earn us an angry “Shush!”

The custom of the Easter laugh has been recovered and reclaimed in recent decades, and I think it’s about time. I for one can’t imagine that the disciples didn’t laugh with surprise and joy at seeing Jesus, hearing his voice, maybe even giving him a hug, once they were past the fear stage. They knew the joke was on them, because they hadn’t believed what he told them. And far from being somber, I suspect Jesus himself was grinning from ear to ear.

It’s odd, when you think about it, that we assume that Jesus always spoke with a serious if not disapproving tone and a cross expression. Given the descriptions of his willingness to break bread with outsiders and the accusation that he was a glutton and a drunkard (Matthew 11:19; Luke 7:24), I suspect that Jesus often spoke with a twinkle in his eye, maybe even with a chuckle or a belly laugh. Why is it that we insist Jesus was harsh and humorless? I believe that says more about us than about Jesus.

Take the speech he delivers to poor Thomas, the only disciple who was missing when Jesus showed up at their hideout that first Easter night. When Thomas finally shows up, he only asks to see what everyone else had already seen, and yet he’s known as “Doubting Thomas,” as though somehow his request proves his faith is inferior to the other disciples. But what if, rather than condemning or chastising Thomas, Jesus speaks not only with compassion but with humor. I invite you to imagine that when Jesus spoke to Thomas, he was laughing – not mocking him but chuckling with humor and tenderness. “Oh, Thomas, thank God you’re here at last! You have some serious catching up to do. And bless all those, all the coming generations of my disciples who will doubt, and question, but whose trust in me will nevertheless change who they are, and what they do with their lives.” And then he claps Thomas on the back, and they all share a good laugh.

As Reinhold Niebuhr once said, “Humor is, in fact, a prelude to faith; and laughter is the beginning of prayer.”

© Joanne Whitt 2026 all rights reserved.