Somebody Tell A Joke!

A Post for An Exhausted Electorate

In the movie “Moonstruck,” Nicholas Cage’s family gathers for a meal. But, like the United States today, several difficult issues surface at the same time. Everyone feels the tension. Then the grandfather says, “Someone tell a joke!” This post is a reminder of the importance of finding a reason to smile in the wackiness of life.

Years ago, when a solo pastor in a church in Los Angeles, I drove into the parking lot looking for a man in a gray hybrid vehicle. He’d been parking at Silverlake Community Church early on weekday mornings. This, in itself, wasn’t a problem. As pastor of the church, however, I had received complaints from the neighbors about the quick but unnerving honks his car emitted every five minutes or so when he was parked there. I had approached him the previous day and was surprised to see that the irritating noise was really a cry for help.

I looked into his car and saw a middle-aged businessman dressed in a suit and tie. But he had a syringe stuck in his arm. That explained why he was unconscious. It also explained the noise. Every few minutes, his head would drop forward just the right way to tap the steering wheel. Once I had roused him, I told him that I was willing to help him with his addiction but that he couldn’t continue to do what he was doing in the church lot. I wasn’t sure my message had gotten through to him. So when I turned into the lot this morning, I expected to see him.

Instead, I found a bicycle parked under a jacaranda tree at the side entry of the church. Next to the bike was someone asleep on the grass. At first, I could see only tussled hair sticking out of the top of the blanket that covered him. I wondered if it was John, the homeless man who had been coming to our church early on Sundays to clean up in one of our restrooms before joining our worship service. If so, I would have to confront him again. I had told him we were interested in helping him out of homelessness but had made it clear, at the same time, that he could not continue to sleep and bathe on our property. As a church, we sought to build relationships that transform and heal, not relationships that foster dependency.

Whether it was John or someone else, I knew I needed to do something. A Jeddi Lego Engineering camp for children would begin at the church soon. I was also relationship-building with “the housed” in the neighborhood. I didn’t want parents to drive past this human blanket to leave their children at the camp. So, I drove into the parking lot feeling more certain that this was John under the blanket. I knew it wasn’t Orville. Orville was a wanderer who had threatened my youth director last week. He said if he didn’t give him money, he would have to make money himself by prostituting himself thus giving someone AIDS. But Orville had left on another journey up the coast this past weekend. I wouldn’t see him for at least a few weeks.

I got out of my car and something shifted under the blanket. Maybe it wasn’t John after all. The movement was such that there had to be more than one person underneath. Suddenly I remembered a high school couple who had started meeting under the tree before summer break. The two of them had been right there, under the jacaranda tree, several times during the school year, clothed but in an endless variety of creative contortions with one another. They’d never used a blanket before. Now it seemed the relationship had developed further. There was more going on under the blanket than I’m willing to describe. It wasn’t Orville or John but I still had the same problem. The parents and children were coming soon, and I felt certain the young couple under the blanket was not offering them the welcome they would appreciate.

I called my youth director. He was preparing for his ordination exams. Maybe they had added something to the Presbyterian pastor exams since I was ordained that would be relevant to the situation. With a grin on my face, I made the call. He answered and I explained the situation in as little detail as possible. Then I asked him, “Do you have any advice?” He was much more creative and energetic than I was. With tongue in cheek, he told me it was not the right time to share the good news of Jesus. Then he added that a lecture on ethics would not be well received either. The only thing coming to my mind was to walk over and tell them, in my best “fire and brimstone” voice to clear off. But my intern continued, “How about a hose?” “Interesting thought,” I replied, “but the hose isn’t long enough.” “And anyway,” I joked, “a Presbyterian minister shouldn’t use water this way. It was too close to immersion.” Then the intern came up with a more fitting option; sprinklers! I knew what I needed to do.

I quickly hung up and called Earl the handyman. "How do I turn the sprinkler on in the section of the lawn that sits off of La Paz under the Jacaranda tree?" I asked.  "Oh," he said, "that's section 8" and he gave me step-by-step instructions. I walked casually to the sprinkler box that was on the same side of the lawn but 150 feet away from the moving blanket. The couple didn’t notice. Nonchalantly I turned away from the couple, opened the box, and pushed the button that said, "Section 8 on".  

Suddenly, a gurgling sound erupted from the ground. The movement under the blanket paused as the sprinklers began to spit and sputter. Suddenly the water in Section 8 began a loud spray and was quickly joined by a scream. Our plan was working! As the sprinklers continued their work, the amorous and now rather wet couple switched into survival mode. They jumped up, wrapped in the blanket, and ran for their lives, laughing as they hopped down the street.

I turned off the sprinkler and walked toward the front of the church a new pride in pastoral work. A normally cold and sullen neighbor who walked her dogs past the church each morning surprised me with a wave and a grin. She had seen the whole thing. I waved back as I walked into the church to continue my day.

We know what we are going through, but don’t know where it will lead. In the moment there is struggle and sadness. But if we are willing to see it there’s also adventure and joy. When the issues that divide surface, the best thing we can do is persevere in caring for those around us and makinggoodhappen. We are in just such a time.

Somebody tell a joke!

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