James was right after all: “Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom.” (James 4:9) Must be why Luther rejected James as canonical.
Thanks to the ADM culture for reminding us of this sobering truth.
(See also: Post)
Said the ‘editor’:
Yeah, this scenario is side-splittingly hilarious: God creates mankind who rebels against the most loving Being there could ever be. They become so deluded they actually think their Creator is their enemy. In an act of grace and mercy, which is beyond words God comes into His Own creation as one of them.
Because of His perfect justice these rebels could not dwell with Him. So to show these helpless creatures that deserve nothing but to be destroyed how much He loved them, knowing they would never understand or even want Him, God – in the Person of His Son – allowed them to brutally torture and kill Him.
Yeah, that’s the funniest thing we’ve ever heard.
Actually, if you think about it, it is hilarious–in an ironic and disturbing sort of way. What sort of a god is so silly that he would rather die than to allow his creation to? There is something terrifically absurd about it, isn’t there? I mean, honestly, absurd!
16“To what can I compare this generation? They are like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling out to others:
17” ‘We played the flute for you,
and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge
and you did not mourn.’ 18For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ 19The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and “sinners.” ‘ But wisdom is proved right by her actions.”
Seriously. Now Christian comedy is off limits. Before long, it will be against the Bible to breathe the air that God made.
Joy, which was the small publicity of the pagan, is the gigantic secret of the Christian. And as I close this chaotic volume I open again the strange small book from which all Christianity came; and I am again haunted by a kind of confirmation. The tremendous figure which fills the Gospels towers in this respect, as in every other, above all the thinkers who ever thought themselves tall. His pathos was natural, almost casual. The Stoics, ancient and modern, were proud of concealing their tears. He never concealed His tears; He showed them plainly on His open face at any daily sight, such as the far sight of His native city. Yet He concealed something. Solemn supermen and imperial diplomatists are proud of restraining their anger. He never restrained His anger. He flung furniture down the front steps of the Temple, and asked men how they expected to escape the damnation of Hell. Yet He restrained something. I say it with reverence; there was in that shattering personality a thread that must be called shyness. There was something that He hid from all men when He went up a mountain to pray. 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. (GK Chesterton, Orthodoxy)
PS–feel free to contribute jokes to this thread, you know, the sort of stuff that might make our pouty faces of concrete crack, crumble, and reveal.