Did Jesus laugh?

Umberto Eco in The Name of the Rose, his masterly detective story set in a 14th-century monastery, has the monks argue whether Jesus ever laughed. One character is outraged at the very idea that our Lord could have descended to such levity; another is sure Jesus must have laughed--at least when he invited the Pharisees to cast the first stone or asked whose image was on the coin.

The question is an intriguing one. Scripture doesn't tell us directly that Jesus ever laughed, or even that he chuckled or smiled. We are told in the verse made famous by its brevity that "Jesus wept" (John 11:35), so we know that he felt full human emotion. But of laughter, happiness, joy, we have only clues.

After thinking it over, I find I have no doubt of the answer to the monks' conundrum. Jesus must have laughed. In fact he must have laughed and smiled a great deal. In spite of hardships, trials, frustrations, and ultimately torture and tragedy, he must, quite simply, have been the happiest human who ever lived.

We all know that laughter is good for us. We can't laugh without feeling happy. Living a life of laughter makes us mentally and physically healthier. Once we let gloom close down on us, our body begins to decay. But keep laughing and the world becomes a better place, and we keep the better for it.

Jesus was not only God, he was a human being, and a perfect one. Because he experienced the full spectrum of human emotions, he must have felt the impulse to laugh. Moreover he must have suffered the same physical and mental ailments that plague us. Early on he must have learned the value of laughter, and he must have learned it from Mary and Joseph. We can be sure that as an infant throughout the long journey into Egypt and as a boy growing up in Galilee, he was raised by wonderfully loving parents.

Try to imagine just for a moment the beautiful Virgin Mother holding her tiny baby. Can you conceive of her not cuddling him and of him not smiling, gurgling and giggling, and laughing back at her? Christ not laugh? Nonsense. Never in the history of humanity can there have been a purer, sweeter, more natural, more joyfully happy laugh than that of the baby who loved and was so loved in the little home behind the carpentry shop in Nazareth.

Jesus grew and Saint Luke tells us he "became strong, filled with wisdom" (2:40). You can bet he could not have done so without living a normal life amid the children of Nazareth. As he played and learned, he must have encountered all the pains and passions and yearnings that every child everywhere has felt while groping toward adolescence and adulthood. Year followed long year within the narrow confines of that bare-bones Galilean village. For a youngster there was no escape and no shortcut. Jesus could never have survived without laughing.

The best estimate is that Jesus did not begin his public ministry until his early 30s. That was already early middle age in the hardscrabble desert life of those days. By then the years had seasoned him, and surely laughter must have come easily.

We can be certain that the vigorous young men who threw aside their fishing nets and family responsibilities to follow Jesus would never have done so for a grouch or a sourpuss. Nor did the crowds mass along the seashore or among the dry hills to listen to a prophet who breathed nothing but anger and doom; this man told homely parables of faith and hope, and these stories he could not have told without a smile.

The gospels tell us Jesus sat often with children. We can picture him on the ground, surrounded by a crowd of noisy little ones. How the laughter must have pealed! Can we believe that our Lord's love did not shine forth to join in the merry tumult?

When Jesus reached out to touch and cure the sick, his eyes must have revealed all the compassion end sadness that a heart could ever hold. But, always, a moment later he would watch the miracle of the believer healed, and then what a smile of love must have brightened that patient, careworn, caring face.

Think of the disciples who journeyed with Jesus along the dusty roads, first crisscrossing Galilee, then daring that last dangerous trek into Judea. See them after a long day's travel, camped about their fire, lonely men in a strange land far from loved ones. Could they have endured without the camaraderie of a jest? They hung on the words of the Master, but the give-and-take could not have always been solemn. This greatest of all leaders could look into every heart, and he must have known how to cheer his apostles.

Picture, too, that home in Bethany where Lazarus lived with his sisters, Martha and Mary. It was for Lazarus that Christ wept, so he must have cherished that family. See Jesus sharing a meal as the honored guest, surrounded by serenity and simple devotion. Sense the glow of warmth and comfort. Feel the love that lies as quiet and deep as the well outside. Listen to the easy, cozy talk of good friends. How could there not have been smiles and laughter?

Sure there were hard times during the weary months of tramping and teaching. And at the end in Jerusalem there was hate, betrayal, the scourge, the thorns, the nails, and the cross. Nothing to laugh at here. It is the most terrible story ever told. For the fully human person who was Jesus, it was the worst horror we can imagine, and for all humanity it was a shame that can never die.

But the horror was not to last. In three days it was over. He rose from the dead and later ascended to sit with the Father. The infinite bliss of being one with God must have filled the wholly human heart of Jesus with the greatest happiness ever known. It must have brought the laughter of perfect joy to his blessed lips.

Now, after 2,000 years, we can forever relive the victory of the Resurrection. We can know the glory of the risen Lord, and, with him, we can laugh at defeat.

Jesus not laugh? He is with his Father. His happiness can know no bounds. His joy and his laughter in heaven must make the rafters ring.

He is with us, too, and we can learn to know him. If I listen right now, if I stop and truly heed, I can feel a happiness bubble deep down in my heart. This is where Jesus lives, and even now he is giving me the gift of his light and his laughter. "Joy," as C. S. Lewis once wrote, "is the serious business of heaven."