We live in a chronically anxious society. With the confluence of Draconian COVID lockdowns and the maturation of Critical Theories (Critical Race Theory, Queer Theory, Intersectionality, etc.), the tension in our society hangs in the air like gasoline fumes ready to explode at the slightest spark. Edwin Friedman, in his book The Failure of Nerve, describes what characterizes chronic anxiety in societies large and small, from the family to the nation. Herding: moving everyone to adapt to the least mature and/or most dysfunctional members. Blame Displacement: becoming victims instead of taking responsibility for one’s own well-being and destiny. Quick Fix Mentality: Constantly seeking symptom relief rather than a willingness to fundamentally change. Lack of Self-Differentiated Leadership: leaders who become part of the problem instead of leading from outside of the problem. Finally, Reactivity: vicious cycles of intense reactions of each member to events and one another and the loss of the capacity for playfulness.
Friedman is on to something with all five of his characteristics, but the loss of the capacity for playfulness stands out in an ominous way presently in our society. I was struck with this while listening to Tucker Carlson’s interview with Adam Carolla on March 25 of this year. Carolla, a comedian himself, mentioned the fact that you know the woke mob (those who hold to those Critical Theories) has gotten to everyone when they have gotten to comedians. Comedians are our “last hope,” the “last truth-tellers” in our society.
What makes a society’s comedians so funny is that they dare to expose the obvious that none of us is willing to talk about in polite conversation. Yes, sometimes they resort to easy, cheap, rude, lewd sexual talk, but those comedians don’t last long. Good comedians see the obvious everyday interactions, quirks, and characteristics of men, women, different races, different cultures, etc. and they throw light on our differences, sometimes exaggerating them so that we can see ourselves and laugh at ourselves. They surprise us with the obvious. Comedians have to be brave to a certain degree; brave enough to expose our differences and what everybody is truly thinking at the risk of offense. In a relatively healthy, non-anxious culture, people have thicker skin and can be playful about all of these things, not reacting intensely. When comedians can no longer jab at every segment of society even-handedly but must tow certain ideological and political lines at the risk of being canceled, then you know that the explosive fumes are at the danger level.
Lately, the most prominent comedians in society, the late-night show hosts, have become sycophantic suck-ups to the left. Jay Leno, though long-retired from The Tonight Show, apologized for years of “Anti-Asian jokes.” (I think Johnny Carson rolled over in his grave.) Hank Azaria apologized for voicing Apu on The Simpsons. When John Cleese mocked him, Cleese was canceled.
We can’t play anymore. Everything is serious. All structures, actions, words, and skin colors reflect the deep-seated systemic hatred that infects our country like cancer, and that is no joking matter. Don’t make light of serious matters, and everything, I mean everything is serious. The fumes continue to build and sparks are flying. Comedians are running for cover because of their failure of nerve.
The death of comedy is not the root of the problem. It is the symptom. Brave comedians are only sparks that light the explosive fumes that already fill society. The answer is not to get rid of comedians. The answer is to diffuse the fumes.
The only way this happens is with good leadership. There needs to be a leader who is outside of this anxious environment but still connected to it who can show the way out. This leadership must come from Christ’s church and, in the lead of those churches, the pastors. One major problem in our society is that churches, striving to be relevant and in the name of “ministry” have adopted the wokeness of society. Consequently, we have become places where everything is intensely serious resulting in constant anxiety. Churches aren’t places of laughter. That’s a symptom of a deep and mortal illness. We, the church, must be a non-anxious presence in the world; a playful group who doesn’t see differences as occasions for envy, hatred, and strife, but as the multi-faceted display of our God’s glory that are a source of joy. We need to be people who can recognize our obvious differences, our racial distinctives, our cultural proclivities, and have a good laugh about them. We need to have thick skin, tender hearts, and light countenances.
