When I was 8 years old, I won the Saline County Fair talent show in Michigan.

My challenger was a bratty girl with a big stuffed animal singing “what's up pussycat”. When it was my turn, I walked onto the stage and sang “The Grandmother Song”. It goes like this:

Be courteous, kind, and forgiving
Be gentle and peaceful each day
Be warm and human and grateful
And have a good thing to say

Be thoughtful and trustful and childlike
Be witty and happy and wise
Be honest and love all your neighbors
Be obsequious, purple and clairvoyant

Be pompous, obese, and eat cactus
Be dull and boring and omnipresent
Criticize things you don't know about
Be oblong and have your knees removed

The song goes on from there, but if you didn't find this much of Steve Martin's classic funny, chances are you won't appreciate the rest.

Even at that young age, I could look out and see something magical in the audience's response. They were fully engaged. Their eyes were bright. They were listening intently.

They were laughing.

As a church leader, laughing matters. There is no relationship building exercise more powerful, or persuasive tool more...persuasive, than laughter. It is the seasoning that, applied discerningly, can provide flavor to a sermon, warmth to a funeral, and cooperation to a church council meeting. Yum.

I'm not talking about jokes, although I do have two decades old “podium humor” books on my shelves. Cracking a one-liner at the beginning of a meeting, or inserting a stale anecdote in the midst of a stale sermon insults the potential of humor.

Laughter comes from a turn of phrase, a funny look, a willingness to see the absurd. More than these things, it comes from a prevailing mindset – that life is a joyous affair, a playful adventure.

Isn't life a challenge of faith? Of course. A quest for compassion and justice? For sure. But it's a quest one undertakes with a twinkle in one's eye, because at the core life is really really good.

Even when life is hard, laughter remains the best medicine. Still, it's possible to overdose.

Laughter that excludes or demeans can be destructive. Laughter that distracts can be off-putting. And needless to say, humor that isn't humorous can cause a silence more deafening than a mime in a Tiffany's. (I have no idea what that means).

Don't force it. Don't fake it. Just open yourself up to the possibility that there might be something in today's scripture/agenda/meeting that might be funny, and worth sharing. Similarly, the people around you may give you cause to laugh, too. When our mouths open to hahaha, possibilities open as well.

If you don't think you're funny, you can get better. Buy some stand-up CD's and write them off as business expenses. Skip an occasional meeting so you can watch some sit-coms. Figure out who makes you laugh, and then spend as much time with them as you can.

Measure your day by 1) number of disciples made and 2) number of minutes chuckling. If someone gets on your case, retort with a loud “Ha!” If you laugh so hard milk comes out of your nose, stop.

With all this laughing going on, how will anything get done?

Happily.