(as posted on Facebook)
I was raised in a family with an amazing sense of humor and observation, and we’ve stockpiled a treasury of favorite quotes to keep us chuckling even through crisis. We laugh with and at each other with great affection. To this day, when I’m on my way back home after a trip to Iowa, it takes me a minute to realize why my ribcage is so sore. Ah, because my laughter muscles got an intense workout and now it hurts to breathe.
I remember once going back to visit the church of my childhood after being gone for many years. I was greeted by an old peer—someone who, in my teens, tried to outdo me in everything, thought every interaction with boys meant they were flirting with her, and was usually bragging about something. This now married woman marched up to me immediately after the service, looked me up and down, and said, “Wow, seeing how much weight you’ve gained makes me feel so much better about myself.”
How I laughed about that, and of course, told my family later. It has found a permanent place in our Favorite Family Quotes and may be used as a fond greeting amongst ourselves with a special nod to my childhood “friend.”
With this deeply ingrained funny bone being a part of who I am, you will better understand why I have been asking a certain question lately: Is it wrong to laugh at some of these ‘cringe’ Instagram reels I keep coming across?
(And if this doesn’t ring any bells, be glad for that; and the rest of this post may not make much sense.)
—Exhibit A—
Without naming names, I am utterly astounded at what some people are posting online lately. More specifically, those from my ‘plain’ (Anabaptist) background. I have seen things I cannot unsee.
Perhaps you have also stumbled across various meaningless reels paired with, “Day 19 of trying to get 10,000 followers in 30 days,” or someone singing so off key it causes physical pain to the listener, delivered with unshakeable confidence by one who thinks they’re about to make it big. Or videos where people seem to lose all sense of discernment once a camera and audience are involved. One conservative Mennonite woman regularly posts content with outrageous double meanings, seemingly oblivious to how it translates to a wider public audience. Another ex-Amish couple attempts to teach the Bible, while posting things that are funny to them, but they won’t listen when well meaning individuals tell them their content is inappropriate, even for the world’s standards.
To be fair, some of the things are said with complete innocence by those who were overly sheltered and are naive to the implied meaning of certain words and phrases. I do not believe purity of mind should ever be held in contempt. But as I see some of these reels, embarrassment for them washes over me. The internet isn’t just watching them; it is exploiting them. Somewhere behind that screen is a real person. Maybe they’re lonely. Maybe they’ve been through terrible things. Maybe they’ve never known real love. Sometimes I feel so sympathetic, I literally stop and pray for them.
Then I remember that this was not some private moment accidentally leaked online. Nor was it privately posted for a few friends who know and love them. They carefully created it and handed it to the public square with obvious prompts for the algorithm.
So at times, I will watch a reel more than once and throw my head back and laugh till tears stream down my face and the family comes running to check on me. And I wrestle again with the question: Is it wrong to laugh at this?
—The Deeper (Possible) Motives—
This is the crux of what I do not understand: Wouldn’t you feel horrified if dozens of people pointed out that your post came across wrong? Or that it opened the door for the world to mock the Lord over something with no redeeming value? Personally, I couldn’t hit delete fast enough. But many have been told, so they do know, and they leave it up anyways. Why? And what clues do we have to better understand their intent?
Most creators lay that answer bare themselves, and will outright say they are trying to gain followers and build visibility. When this works however, sometimes it’s at the cost of their dignity. Content that reveals extreme social blindness with zero meaningful substance can rack up a million views and shares. The comment sections fill up — some folks trying to help, but most mercilessly cruel. And when the Christian banner is attached, the fallout expands beyond the content creator because unbelievers do not often distinguish between ‘a bad post’ and ‘a bad faith.’ That alone should give us pause.
I wonder if sometimes the root of this has to do with what we’ve collectively decided is normal – meaning, perhaps they are trying to imitate something they see in our broader culture.
We have traded the fidelity and accountability of participation in our community for the cheap thrill of chasing attention from a sea of strangers. And we see it nearly everywhere. The isolated, hurting, or naive may be chasing social currency and approval. Even well respected Christians openly congratulate themselves or brag about their accomplishments, ministry, children’s achievements, or their appearance. And predictably, it works. It brings the compliments and engagement people desire in order to prove that they have value. The difference isn’t motive, it’s packaging. I can’t say this is always the case, but I do think it plays a huge part.
—Scribes Gone Viral?—
This is where the issue becomes much larger, and it’s why I would like to posit this verse for consideration:
“Then He [Jesus] said to them in His teaching, ‘Beware of the scribes, who desire to go around in long robes, love greetings in the marketplaces, the best seats in the synagogues, and the best places at feasts’” — Mark 12:38-39
I have long viewed social media as a sort of new, modern “marketplace” where people socialize and present themselves as they want to be seen. When I read the Gospels, I learn so much about others, and even more about myself. Jesus was masterfully adept at exposing the underlying root of the behaviors around Him. In these verses in Mark, He was exposing the pattern of attention seeking for notoriety in public spaces. The reality is that the same heart condition of the Scribes can tempt any of us. They were the most religious people of the day, and it’s worth considering whether we’ve adopted our own modern versions of their habits.
To be a little more (dangerously) specific: sometimes I wonder if those trying to build a platform by putting “Mennonite” in big bold letters on their reels is simply an adaptation of the long robes. Nothing draws attention quite like publicly announcing how separate from attention you are. Civilization advances, yet I suppose the phylacteries and tassels endure. The rest of us are not off the hook either—it is one thing to say, “I am a Christ follower” or “I am a Christian,” and another thing entirely to then leverage that identity for views, influence, or personal gain. This becomes especially concerning when Scripture is misused, rage bait employed, or a claim is made that you need both Jesus and their product to be whole. Paul cautioned Titus about “empty talkers and deceivers” who were “teaching for shameful gain what they ought not to teach.” And James warns, “For where envy and self-seeking exist, confusion and every evil thing are there.”
Ultimately, the core principle governing all of this comes down to spiritual responsibility. The words from our mouths and the posts we put out should pass through the same filter: Is it honoring to the Lord, or are we entertaining compromise? True discernment is built when we first demand radical honesty and truth from ourselves before we look for it in others. This is a hard pill to swallow, because self examination is deeply inconvenient.
Of course we can’t and shouldn’t fully judge another person’s motives. But neither should we pretend the obvious does not exist. If we are Christians, then we are part of the larger body of Christ. Our entire lives should represent Him. Our drive should be to increasingly love the Lord with all our heart, mind, and strength, and to love others as ourselves. And this love is exactly why we have a responsibility to speak truth lovingly to each other when the Holy Spirit lays it on our heart. I certainly don’t always do this rightly, and I want to do better. But while I wait for sanctification to fully take, I still have to figure out my original question, is it wrong to laugh?
—A Domestic Analogy (Imperfect but Useful)—
Perhaps a helpful way to look at this entire issue is to think about how we handle immaturity in those we deeply love. I think of my own home. Our dear kids say and do things all the time that are a bit cringe, mistaken, or outright funny. I do this too, and kick myself for it, laugh, and try to learn. The kids will burp or fart at all the wrong times. They state a strong opinion or come up with ideas that make Michael and I look at each other like, “Where on earth did they get that from?” So what do we do as the supposedly mature individuals in this family? We train them. But…we also laugh our heads off at what is laughable and try to help them build discernment, good judgment, and understand the example of Christ. The key distinction here is that even in our laughter we assume their dignity, and it is a participation in formation.
Looking back, I believe a healthy sense of humor is what helped me weather the comments of my childhood ‘friend’ for all those years. Some behaviors are so socially tone-deaf that laughter is the healthiest response, an armor against cynicism, and a reminder that all we as human beings are often a bit absurd. The danger arises when laughter stops being a release valve and instead becomes disdain and delight in another person’s humiliation.
—Is Looking Away Always the Right Answer?—
I’ve noticed when various people have tried to talk about these issues, there are many who are quick to shut it down with an aggressive, “Just scroll by if you don’t like it.” Sure, sometimes that is the right call, but sometimes it is the easy, risk-free one. I’ve also noticed many who harp on that, missed the point entirely. And some simply don’t like the mindlessness being called out, because, well it might call them out too. That happens to be a possibility people tend to receive poorly. Looking away may not necessarily be the loving thing to do when a brother or sister in Christ is publicly compromising their testimony or dignity.
Grace, humor, and discernment are not contrary to each other. Sometimes they’re extended in the same hand. It’s not at all unkind to say, “Hey, just so you know, that doesn’t mean what you think it means.” Even deeper than that, we all have a capacity for self delusion; which is exactly why Proverbs warns us, “Where there is no counsel, the people fall; but in the multitude of counselors there is safety.” If nothing else, it means that when multiple people kindly try to show us something, we should at least pause to consider the feedback.
It’s intentional that I’m not giving a one-size-fits-all solution here, because we don’t all have the same point of perception, nor do we have the same responsibility in every situation. But as Believers, we are all called to the same principles of love.
Laughter is a gift, and sometimes the sheer hilarity of our human nature demands it. If we care about our homes and the body of Christ, laughter should always be coupled with a heart of restoration. Cruelty should have zero place, but perhaps a vow of silence shouldn’t either.
PS. If this post deeply upsets you, go ahead and drop MAD in the comments and I’ll send you my completely *blank* non-refundable ebook masterclass for just $49.99. 💸
