Dear reader, I have long cherished the quiet moments of prayer, when the silence itself seems to hum with the presence of God. But lately, I’ve also found myself thinking about another kind of prayerful sound: the hearty belly laugh. If silence is the hymn of the contemplative soul, then surely laughter is the psalm of joy — sometimes slightly off-key, but all the more beautiful for it.
I don’t know when we got the idea that holiness always comes with a serious face. Somewhere along the way, Christians began to think that God’s business was best conducted with furrowed brows and pursed lips, as though Jesus came not so much that our joy may be full, but that our frowns may be perfected. And yet, in the gospels, we find a Christ who brings feasts, banquets, and celebrations. The kingdom of heaven, after all, is described more like a wedding reception than a board meeting.
Laughter, I think, is a ministry in its own right. It lifts the weary heart, eases the load of a heavy day, and bridges the distance between strangers. A well-timed laugh has healed more wounds than a thousand sermons — though, I assure you, we clergy keep valiantly trying with both.
I recall once, after a particularly chaotic parish dinner, someone said to me, “Father, I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in months.” And there it was: holiness. Not in a hushed chapel, but in the clatter of dishes, spilled gravy, and the sound of friends roaring with laughter until tears came. That night, joy was the sacrament we all shared, and the Spirit was unmistakably present — even if the potatoes were overcooked.
The Book of Proverbs reminds us: “A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones.” Medicine, indeed. The laughter of a child, the chuckle of a grandparent, the snort in the middle of a solemn hymn (though hopefully not from the choir) — these are not distractions from holiness, but reminders of it. They are glimpses of the joy that is at the heart of God’s creation.
So yes, silence will always have its sacred place. But do not underestimate the ministry of laughter. Sometimes the holiest thing we can do is to laugh until our sides ache — and in that moment, we may find ourselves closer to God than we ever imagined.
And, dear reader, if you happen to laugh at yourself along the way, consider it an advanced course in humility. I’ve been enrolled in that course for quite some time now.
A Prayer for Holy Joy
Gracious God,
You are the giver of joy and the source of every good laugh.
Thank You for the gift of laughter that lightens our burdens,
for the smiles that knit us together in friendship,
and for the joy that points us back to You.
Teach us to cherish holy silence,
but also to celebrate holy laughter —
to know that both are sacraments of Your love.
When life feels heavy, lift our spirits with joy.
When our hearts are weary, remind us that
a cheerful heart is Your good medicine.
May our lives ring with the sound of both prayer and laughter,
until the day when we join in the eternal chorus of joy
around Your heavenly banquet table.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.