You denizens of the Christian web are likely familiar with Dave Wilkie's famous "Coffee with Jesus" comic strips. By turns witty, incisive, and profound, they strike a fine balance between hilarity and holiness. Given their spirit of charity and their critique of stereotypical evangelical culture, I emailed Dave (who just released a sharp-looking book of the cartoons) to ask him about his work. His replies to my questions about humor and modern church life are relevant for more than just chuckles. – Paul
Talk about walking the line between satire and sincerity in church humor.
It's a very fine line, and what makes one person laugh makes another cry "Blasphemy!" One person's "Like" is another's "I wish there was a hate button for these stupid comics." I'm never going to please everyone, and one look at the comments on any of my comics will prove that. The best satire isn't just making you laugh; it's shedding some light on a truth, or exposing a problem. Doing that for a primarily Christian audience requires steeling yourself to the reactions, not letting the negative get you down and not letting the positive puff you up. I'm not too good at that yet.
What do you hope that pastors or church leaders laughing about your work will walk away with?
I never imagined that church leadership would be such a large part of our audience, but from what I've seen, they appreciate that my work gives them new ways to look at old ideas. These comics get shared in church bulletins and are used as sermon illustrations or classroom conversation-starters. Really, I want them to laugh—that's the start—and then I want them to go, "Huh—I never thought about it like that."
Good humor always touches a nerve with truth. Where do your insights come from?
My own selfish ambitions and foolish desires are the basis for many of the ideas I'm putting out there. You'll note that the stock characters are pretty shallow sometimes. That's me, my own prayer life. Other times, I can skim through the TV channels and find inspiration, be it some example of Western excess or a TV preacher selling his new DVD that he promises will take your spiritual walk to the next level. Ideas are everywhere. We think we're suffering if our Netflix film is buffering too slowly—that's funny. My dog loves me no matter what—that touches you if you ponder it. "There is truth in all humor," someone said. (I just looked it up. It was Shakespeare.) I've always believed that. Life is funny. You don't have to go far to find it. Family, work, society—these settings are rife with problems we all share and they're a great source for material.
Talk to me about your relationship with the local church. How does humor help you process your experiences?
Church is a collection of very different people with one thing—one person—in common. Throw all these very diverse people into a building and tell them to worship, tend to the needs of others, learn, grow and make an impact on their community. It can be very dysfunctional at times, especially if you start to lose focus on the one person you have in common—and unfortunately that's easy to do. If we can step back and look at ourselves—our very selfish selves—maybe we can laugh before pride takes us completely off the rails. But you have to be able to laugh at yourself first, because you might be the problem, not everybody else.
Who do you publish "Coffee with Jesus" for?
Originally it was for the person who had been put off by organized religion, the "de-churched" as opposed to the "un-churched," the person who had been burned, disillusioned or otherwise fed up with what passes for Christianity in this country. And it was also aimed at a spoiled, Western culture that had confused faith with politics, God with flag. Now, it's changed so much. The audience, at least from what I can decipher through Facebook comments, is made up of those people I had originally intended it for, but is very popular among mainline Protestants, Catholics, Buddhists, Agnostics, you name it.
What about life makes you laugh most?
I read an article once about some monks in Southwest Missouri. I think their main source of income was fruitcake. OK, that's funny to start with. But the reporter who visited them wondered, "What do you guys do for entertainment?" The main guy, the leader of the community responded, "We watch the seasons change. We watch the dogs play." I thought, "Wow!" And when I'm throwing the Frisbee for my dog, that's a fun time; that puts a smile on my face. But I still record "Saturday Night Live" every week. More often than not, it's about 25% funny. Observational humor is the stuff that makes me laugh the most; common experiences that are just absurd when you look closely at them, the best examples pointed out by the comedians Chris Rock or Louis CK. These guys, as far as I know, aren't Christians, but they're getting at real problems, albeit very crudely at times, about society and relationships. I think Rock would make a great preacher.
If your life was a sermon what would it be titled?
"Learning the Hard Way" or maybe "How to Laugh at Your Anger."
Ours is a sarcastic generation. What are the payoffs and pitfalls of our snide humor and cynicism, from your perspective?
Oh, so true. Look at the comments on most websites where everyone is trying to outdo the next guy with wit and biting sarcasm. Twitter is the same way. The ones who rise to the top and get book deals are the ones with the sharpest words. The pitfalls are obvious: everyone is negative, everyone's a critic, everyone knows everything and no one's ever wrong. Snark for the sake of snark loses its taste very quickly. Eventually everyone's shouting in all caps and it's just this bitter, vitriolic noise where you're forced to walk away from it, saying, "I need a rest." The payoffs? There is truth in all humor. It's great in small doses, but a life of sarcasm will eat your soul. You have to watch the dogs play.
Paul Pastor is associate editor of Leadership Journal and PARSE.
