Concerning Humor – Sunday, August 15, 1943
If you were suddenly to find yourself in a strange and unfamiliar place, and wanted to know whether you had arrived in a blessed land or in a forlorn and unhappy country, there are several tests that could be applied. And one of them would be to observe whether or not you found there a warm and kindly and irrepressible humor—if you found there the unafraid laughter of’ children, the sympathetic and understanding smile, and a delicate seasoning of wit in the commonplace and ordinary things of life—if these things you found, then you could be fairly sure that you had arrived in a blessed and happy land.
And also, if you found that the people could still cast effective but un-venomous barbs at the weaknesses and failings of their elected officers and at the mistakes of their government, and that officers and government alike could take it with good grace, without testy resentment, without retaliatory inquisition, then you could know again that you were in a blessed land. One can scarcely imagine the press and the people of enslaved countries openly enjoying a jest at the expense of their masters—and getting away with it. Humor in its highest sense flourishes in an atmosphere of freedom, and is blighted in an atmosphere of slavery and oppression.
It may also be generated in the minds of those whose thoughts are free, even though their arms are shackled. But when you find listless and apprehensive children and sullen and unresponsive men and women, then you may know that you have left the atmosphere of freedom, and that you have arrived upon an unhappy place where the kindly release of a delicate humor is no longer enjoyed. But when we speak of the virtues of humor, we must distinguish between some things that are really humorous and some things that have been masquerading in the name of humor, but which are, in fact, imposters. Bitter irony is not high humor. The deep and distressing embarrassment or hurt of an unoffending victim is not humor, even though it sometimes brings forth loud laughter. Unkind sarcasm is not good humor when it undeservingly causes human misery and discomfort.
The disheartening misfortunes of others are not humor. The senseless mutterings and uncoordinated antics of an inebriate are not humor; giddiness and light-mindedness and hysteria are not humor. Humor in its highest form is temperate. “Therefore, cease from… light-mindedness,” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:121) and, as the Preacher has expressed it, “Be not rash with thy mouth.” (Ecclesiastes 5:2.) And so, when humor becomes too heavy and venomous, or too light and giddy, or when it becomes off-color, we had best give a critical look to the environment and company in which we find ourselves.
By Richard L. Evans, spoken from the Tabernacle, Temple Square, Salt Lake City, Sunday, Aug. 15, 1943, over Radio Station KSL and the nationwide Columbia Broadcasting System. Copyright – 1943.
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August 15, 1943
Broadcast Number 0,730