The pastoral life, and yes the Christian life in general - puts flesh on the words of the Preacher in Ecclesiastes Chapter Three. There is indeed “a time for every matter under heaven.”

There is a time for laughter. Laughter is the natural human response to joy. Humor is a healthy response to things in this life, both our joys, and our foibles. And laughing at oneself is a healthy exercise in humility. Cracking jokes beings joy and laughter to others, and it can even be done in dire situations to ease the tension.

Some of our readers might remember the 1970s TV series called MASH. It was set during the Korean War in a field army hospital. It is hardly the stuff of humor. And yet, the show was a sit-com (situation comedy). Like many sitcoms of the era, it poked fun at tradition, convention, and authority. The heroes of the show were a group of sarcastic army doctors who were always out of uniform, who mocked military tradition, who were disrespectful of rank, and acted in ways that would get a normal soldier court martialed. But these men were superlative doctors, and so their commanders put up with their hijinks. The villains of the show were a doctor and the head nurse who were the opposite: they were rigorous about military regulations, expected to be saluted and addressed according to regulation - even as they flouted their marital vows. Much of the show pitted the wisecracking doctors vs this hypocritical couple who were always yammering on about rules and regulations and complaining to the unit commander. Meanwhile, incoming wounded men were constantly at the brink of death, and the doctors and nurses were constantly scrambling into the operating room up to their elbows in blood, stitching up men full of enemy shrapnel.

And so the TV show had a lot of dark humor. The main character was Captain “Hawkeye” Pierce, one of the irreverent doctors who was constantly laughing in a loud, exaggerated cackle.

But there was a time when Hawkeye was not laughing. It was when a patient was in grave danger on the operating table. It was then that Hawkeye became Doctor Pierce. The cackle stopped and his attention turned to his patient. He became deadly serious. For this was a matter of life and death. Even the authors of edgy 1970s sitcoms knew that to everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven. There was a time for jokes, and a time to refrain from joking.

And indeed, in our Christian life, there are also times when joking and laughter are inappropriate.

Moses did not joke at the burning bush. The high priests did not joke in the Holy of Holies. Isaiah did not joke in the divine throne room. Peter, James, and John did not joke at the Transfiguration. The apostles did not joke when our Lord was on the cross. There is a time for reverence and awe. And what could be a more serious time - yes joyful, but at the same time serious - than when dealing with the presence of our Lord in His body and blood? Our reverence regarding the Lord’s body and blood is itself a confession and instruction regarding what we believe, teach, and confess regarding the Holy Sacrament.

I recently saw a video of a livestreamed LCMS Divine Service. It was deeply disturbing and scandalous for several reasons. You may have seen it. I am specifically not mentioning the name of the pastor or the congregation, nor sharing the video. Disciplining this pastor and congregation is the district president’s job, not mine. But it is our vocation at Gottesdienst to address such things in a general sense - especially when they happen in our fellowship. And this pastor is not alone in many of these disturbing practices. So don’t ask me the name of the pastor and congregation. Don’t be a you-know-what. If you know the pastor and the congregation, you don’t have to say it. That’s not the point.

What I want to address here is the pastor’s inappropriate joking about the Lord’s body and blood.

He explained to the congregation that because of Covid, he would be dropping the consecrated host from a gloved hand into the parishioners’ outstretched hands. He made a joke about taking bets to see how many hosts will fall to the floor. Some in the congregation laughed. And then he explained that the blood of the Lord would be taken from the individual glasses, which, for ease of handling, were larger than usual, borrowed from a local tavern. And he urged people not to turn the glass upside down and slam it on the table as if doing a shot in a bar. “I know where you go Saturday night,” he quipped. Some in the congregation laughed.

I gotta tell ya, I got a million of them, ladies and germs. Is this thing on? Be sure to tip your waitresses on the way out. Now, he didn’t say that stuff, but he might as well have. What he said was not just scandalous, it is unthinkable that a Lutheran Christian - let alone a steward of the mysteries - would be so irreverent regarding our Lord Jesus Christ in His miraculous presence - truly a matter of eternal life and death. It would be like Captain Pierce wearing Groucho glasses and cracking jokes while a young soldier bled out on the operating table.

When dealing with the sacred mystery of the Lord’s Supper, when addressing the sublime reality of being in His miraculous and mysterious presence, and actually handling the same body that was nailed to the cross, and the same blood that was shed at Golgotha - what could be more of a time to be reverent and serious?

We pastors have an obligation to teach emphatically that the bread is His body and the wine is His blood. We confess as did Flannery O’Connor: “If it’s just a symbol, then to hell with it.” We communicate this reality by teaching in Bible class, in Confirmation class, in Sunday School, in adult catechesis, in our sermons, in the church newsletter, on our church social media accounts, our church websites, and even in our day to day conversation. We also confess and teach what our Lord means when He says the word “is,” and that our Lord’s Word delivers just exactly what it says in our conduct as we consecrate the elements during the Divine Service. And by extension, this also applies as to how we treat the elements in what we say and do.

Flippancy toward the elements of Holy Communion is simply not an option. Crass jokes about profaning the body and blood of the Lord ought never be uttered by anyone who loves our Lord and confesses that He is truly present in the consecrated elements.

There is indeed a time for jokes and laughter. In fact, humor can help us through difficult times, such as the quip attributed to St. Laurence as he was being burned to death, or the dark, gallows humor in concentration camps. Humor can also be a helpful tool for teaching and learning. Humor builds relationships between people, as sharing a laugh with another person is a way to make a very real human connection. I cannot imagine being a pastor and not having a full and lively sense of humor. There is a season and a time for jokes and humor. But there is no season for jokes made that mock our Lord or suggest a lack of belief in His real presence.

There is no time for such matters under heaven.