Have you ever participated in a worship service that incorporated the ministry of Christian clowning?
Christian clowning, of course, is the practice of adorning oneself in the traditional garb of a clown, complete with the wig, the make up, and the funny clothes. What makes it “Christian” clowning, however, is that these clowns conduct some sort of a worship event. Often, they will pull out some unsuspecting members of the congregation in order to conduct a skit or dramatization that highlights the Gospel message in a way that is simultaneously funny and poignant. In that sense, Christian clowning can be quite an effective liturgical resource. Because, as people are laughing at these ridiculous clowns, they are also hearing—or overhearing—the good news of Jesus in a way that is new and fresh and creative.
I was first introduced to the ministry of Christian clowning during the summer of 1986 while serving on program staff at Jumonville (one of our United Methodist church camps in western Pennsylvania). It was a junior high athletic camp. The dean of this particular camp wanted to organize a worship service that revolved around the ministry of Christian clowning, and she wanted all of the counselors to participate.
I was reluctant, to say the least. Being somewhat arrogantly narrow in my thinking back then (as college students can tend to be), I came to the quick conclusion that the whole business of Christian clowning sounded frivolous, irreverent, and even foolish. I told the dean that I was not interested in participating in the clown service. She asked me why not.
“Well,” I said, “in the first place, I’m not really sure I believe in it. And, in the second place, I think that dressing up like a clown would make me look like a fool. And I HATE looking like a fool, especially in front of junior high campers!”
The dean chuckled at my response. “Eric,” she said, “don’t you know yet that that’s exactly what you are? Don’t you understand that you’re a fool?!”
I must have blanched at that point. It was the first time that an adult had called me a fool (at least to my face!).
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah,” she continued. “You’re a fool. Because, eventually, everybody who follows Jesus becomes a fool for his sake. It’s just the way it goes.”
“What do you mean by that,” I asked.
“I don’t have to explain it to you,” she responded, “because, if you live as a Christ-follower long enough, you’ll come to understand it just fine on your own. Eventually, everybody who follows Jesus becomes a fool for his sake.”
Although I did not fully comprehend the meaning of her words, something about them sounded right to me. And so, I put on the make up, the wig, and the funny clothes, and I became a Christian clown.
That was nearly twenty three years ago. And yet, even now, twenty three years later, the words of that camp dean continue to resonate in the deepest chambers of my memory: “Eventually, everybody who follows Jesus becomes a fool for his sake. It’s just the way it goes.”
It occurs to me that that is precisely what the Apostle Paul is attempting to communicate in 1 Corinthians 1:18-25:
For the message about the cross is FOOLISHNESS to those who are perishing…Jews demand signs, and Greeks desire wisdom. But we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles.
Paul, I think, makes the point vividly clear: Anybody who believes in the saving power of Jesus Christ and anybody who has the audacity to lift high his cross will inevitably become a fool in the eyes of those who adhere to what might be called the conventional wisdom of contemporary culture—a fool, a stumbling block, even a clown.
One would find it difficult to deny that there is indeed a conventional and culturally-reinforced wisdom that surrounds us (insofar as “wisdom” refers to a worldview or an ethos that is philosophically and behaviorally embraced). It is a wisdom that tells us that it is a good and necessary thing to satisfy every one of our appetites the moment it demands to be satisfied. It is a wisdom that tells us that a youth’s commitment to the football team, or the band, or the school musical, or a boyfriend or girlfriend, is far more weighty than his or her commitment to the church’s ministry. It is a wisdom that encourages sexual freedom and experimentation (as long as the appropriate protection is used). It is a wisdom that affirms the hatred of enemies and the urgency of appropriate retaliation. It is a wisdom that permits narcissism, since a healthy dose of narcissism is inseparably linked to consumerism (and consumerism is inseparably linked to a “thriving” economy). It is a wisdom that teaches us that there is no such thing as a free lunch and that any salvation worth having must be earned.
Do you get the point? Like the Christians in first century Corinth to whom Paul wrote, we still find ourselves surrounded by a pagan, popular, attractive wisdom. And the ethics of Jesus still go against the grain of that wisdom, thereby making Jesus a fool in the eyes of those to whom the popular wisdom has become precious. And, if Jesus is a fool, then…well…do I even have to make the point about us?
Perhaps I will simply let the words of Obi Wan Kenobi speak for me: “Who’s the more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him?”
On this April Fool’s Day, I am thanking God for a camp dean who dared to tell me the truth about how things are: “Eventually, everybody who follows Jesus becomes a fool for his sake. It’s just the way it goes.”
It was a year ago when I attempted the “Fool For Christ” message to start off worship at a certain coffee-indulgent church. Not one single person would come up front after I had been walking around the room exhorting people to come up front for nearly five minutes as the band vamped. All I wanted them to do was come up and clap their hands and sing the song in front of everybody. Nothing really too foolish looking… But nobody bit until finally the youth leader got some of the kids to come up. Then, a couple of the parents loosened up and came forward. Thank God for that youth leader, because I have no idea what might have come out of my mouth if not one single person in the whole church came forward in an invitation to “be a fool for Christ, not caring what the rest of the world thinks…”
Good one, Eric. This hits home.
That sounds like fun. I have a hard time believing you did not want to dress up. You would probably jump at a chance to make everyone laugh now, even if you look like a fool.
PS HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Fools for Christ. I’m all for counter-cultural living, but please God, don’t call me to clown ministry!
I did hear of a wesley foundation that recently brought in a balloon artist. I guess it’s similar to clown church.
Good post.