I took a friend of mine and his 3 kids to Easter service today. After lunch, we were in the car, driving and talking about their grandfather, who passed away several years ago. One of them said, “How does a dead person plan their funeral?” We burst out laughing, and their dad said, “The family prepares it.” Then Isa, the oldest, said, “Vinny, all your relatives are dead, so who’s going to prepare your funeral?” and before I could answer, she said, “I’ll prepare your funeral!” Her sister and brother instantly yelled, “Wait, I want to prepare his funeral too,” as if they were fighting over who got to be first in line for an ice cream cone. To add to the absurdity of the moment, I said, “Who wants to come to my funeral?” and they all said, “Me! Me!” as if they were going to the amusement park.
This was dark comedy at its finest. The ability to make the horror and finality of death funny. To turn a depressing topic into an oddly joyful moment. Facing the inevitability of death and being able to laugh at it. Sociologist Peter Berger talks about signs of transcendence that come from within us. One is the argument from humor. We find humor in discrepancy or inconsistency. A discrepancy exists between the spirit of humanity and its current condition. There is something within us that wants more than this short life. That “something” is temporarily imprisoned, laughing at the inconsistency, and hoping it will one day be set free. When we force humor into a tragic situation, it signifies our rejection of death and a longing for something else.