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 I consider a good sense of humor as indispensable as dark chocolate.  If you know me at all, that is saying a lot, because seldom does a day go by outside of Lent or Advent that I don’t eat some dark chocolate, whether my mainstay dark chocolate M&Ms or some wonderful single-origin dark chocolate from Trader Joe’s.  Many is the time when a good sense of humor has defused a tense situation in our house, distracting young ones from their evil deeds or helping spouses see the love instead of the frustration of a disagreement.  Of course, many of those things can be accomplished through dark chocolate, but that’s a topic for another day.

I personally am not very good at telling a joke, as my husband and friends can well attest.  I would fail miserably as a stand-up comic.  But I find that the older I get, the more I need to laugh, and, paradoxically, the more discerning I am about what makes me laugh.  There is a lot of sadness in life–death, brokenness in ourselves and others, the state of the world–that it’s easy to get and stay down.  So lots of laughter–and the right sort of it– becomes even more important.

That’s one of the reasons why I love Mary Eberstadt’s The Loser Letters, July’s book selection here at the Catholic Post Book Group.  You’ll see in my review on Thursday that one of my favorite things about the book is that it makes me laugh in the right way.

But what do I mean by the “right kind” of laughter?  I don’t mean that I’m a snob about it, like I can only laugh at intellectually high-brow jokes.  I’m a big fan of silly puns and slapstick humor.   For instance, we love Charlie Chaplin films at our house.  And we laughed through Toy Story 3 recently (when this mom wasn’t weeping openly at the poignant parts).  

C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters  in preparation for  has an entire letter on the “danger” of humor to lead people closer to God.  For those who have not read The Screwtape Letters, let me fill you in because we’ll be talking a lot this month about the mini-genre Lewis created with the book.

C.S. Lewis wrote the book as a series of fictional letters from a demon, Screwtape, to his apprentice nephew demon Wormwood.  Everything is twisted in the book, so “the Enemy” is God and the advice is all backwards from what would make people happy.

C.S. Lewis’ tempter in The Screwtape Letters divides the causes of human laughter into Joy, Fun the Joke Proper and Flippancy.

“You will see (joy) among friends and lovers reunited on the eve of a holiday.  Among adults some pretext in the way of Jokes is usually provided, but the facility with which the smallest witticisms produce laughter at such a time shows that they are not the real cause.  What the real cause is we do not know… Laughter of this kind does us no good and should always be discouraged.  Besides, the phenomenon is of itself disgusting and a direct insult to the realism, dignity and austerity of Hell.”

I know many people can relate to this exact description.  I was a younger sibling in a family of six kids, and when my older brother and sisters would return from college for a holiday, the kitchen table was always full of laughter as we sat and caught up with each other.   But were we telling jokes?  Not exactly; there was that kind of gentle ribbing that goes on in families, but we were laughing and smiling so much out of proportion to the jokes that it was clearly Joy.

What concerns me when I say the “right kind of laughter” is there is an awful lot of humor recently that really has nothing to do with Joy or Fun is being promoted as humorous.

I can think of certain modern authors, television shows and movies that really do nothing but sneer and ridicule the good, all under the pretext of “humor.”  And if someone accuses them of that very thing, that person is ridiculed (more with an attitude than exact words) of “I’m just joking.  Can’t you take a joke? Don’t you have a sense of humor?”

Yes, I do have a sense of humor.  A good sense of humor.

Lewis writes about this very thing beautifully in Screwtape’s letter on humor:

“But flippancy is the best of all.  In the first place it is very economical.  Only a clever human can make a real Joke about virtue, or indeed about anything else; any of them can be trained to talk as if virtue were funny.  Among flippant people the Joke is always assumed to have been made.  No one actually makes it; but every serious subject is discussed in a manner which implies that they have already found a ridiculous side to it.  If prolonged, the habit of Flippancy builds up around a man the finest armour plating against the Enemy that I know, and it is quite free from the dangers inherent in the other sources of laughter.  It is a thousand miles away from joy; it deadens, instead of sharpening, the intellect; and it excited no affection between those who practise it.”

What do you think is meant by a “good sense of humor”?   Do you think humor is important in living out a faith-filled life?

As promised, I hope to share through the month lots of Catholic humor websites.

One of my favorites is The Ironic Catholic, written by

Now that I’m a couple of months into this Catholic Post Book Group blog,  I see that each month not only has a book, but really a theme that the book highlights and invites discussion.

April’s book was Treasure in Clay, the autobiography of Fulton Sheen, and the discussion centered on two things: the priesthood, and media.  Fulton Sheen lived out his priesthood in such a vibrant way, and did so through his media apostolate, that the discussion centered on those two topics.

May was The Handbook for Catholic Moms by Lisa Hendey, and that book is so well-ordered that our discussion of mom-hood and its challenges was a breeze.  Thanks, Lisa, for writing such a great book that fostered a month-long online discussion.

June was “summer fiction” month.  Once the schedule with specific topics for days, such as “Family-Friendly Friday,” was up and running, June became a great month to discuss and learn from each other on Catholic and catholic fiction.  I plan to do summer fiction each June, and I’ve already got a great list of classic books for next year.  Suggestions are always welcome!

July’s book is Mary Eberstadt’s The Loser Letters, fictional letters of an atheist “convert” written in the style of C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters.  Initially, I thought I would spend the month inviting discussion of this mini-genre created by Lewis.  But as I wrote my review (that will appear in next week’s print Catholic Post and here online, I realized that its just-right humor is what makes the book so enjoyable to me.

For July, humor it is.  I am a big fan of Catholic humor blogs and humor in general, and I will love to share them and find out your favorites.   I also plan to share some thoughts from the saints and others–about about what makes humor not just good but ennobling, something to lift up our human spirit, not demean us.

When it comes to humor, the expression “de gustibus non disputandum est,” (there’s no accounting for taste) will definitely apply.  Everyone will have a different view on what he or she thinks is funny.  Let’s plan to agree to disagree when we have different humor types.

Those who know me know how much I enjoy using the internet expression LOL in e-mail, texting, and even occasionally real life.  So let’s plan on some LOL this month.

Summertime means travel, and for many people that means lots of books, movies and other “stuff” in the minivan/car to keep people busy on long trips.  Audio CDs can be a great way to while away those hours.

Here are just a few great audio versions of favorite books to delight the whole family.  I can think of many more, but these ones shout out to me, “Summer!”:

1.  One of our family favorites is the Radio Theatre production of the Chronicles of Narnia.  Normally, I’m an unabridged snob, meaning that I much prefer the unabridged versions of novels to their abridged or shortened versions.  This 19-CD set is abridged, but so well done and so captures the spirit of Narnia that we listen to it over and over.

2. The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster’s classic comic tale of the conflict between numbers and words (and a whole lot more), is available in a fantastic narration by actor David Hyde Pierce. I’ve tried to read this aloud, and it’s a real challenge, so I’m grateful for this version. Bonus at the end of this audio version is an interview with Norton Juster about his writing of the book. Terrific!

3. Betsy-Tacy, first in the series of Betsy-Tacy books by Maud Hart Lovelace, is nicely done by actress Sutton Foster. I wish more of them were in audio format, but I’ve only seen Betsy-Tacy.

4. We’ve read many times, but not yet listened to The Penderwicks, Jeanne Birdsall’s wonderful summer novel on audio CD. I see one is available now, and I’ve got it reserved at the library. Birdsall writes multi-sibling stories in the wry and charming style of E. Nesbit and Edward Eager.

5. All-of-a-Kind Family tells the sweet, slice-of-life story of a Jewish family in early 20th century New York’s Lower East Side. The narration is lively and enjoyable.

6. E.B. White narrated two of his classic novels, and these are still available as audio CDs. I can’t pick a favorite, so I’ll list them both: The Trumpet of the Swan and Charlotte’s Web. White’s spare and just right; in Trumpet of the Swan, in particular, there is humor for both the children and the adults.

In our family, we do own some favorite audio books on CD, but often we will borrow them from the  library through the inter-library loan system.  Some libraries have online audio downloads available, and there are services like audible.com.

What are some of your family’s favorite Audio CDs? Or can you share some ways you enjoy your family’s favorite books?

I had intended for Words Wednesday today to quote from a beautiful section regarding friendship from The Keys to the Kingdom, A.J. Cronin’s novel about priest Fr. Francis Chisolm, one of the great dads in fiction I wrote about Sunday.

In the last few days, perhaps because I’ve had friendship on my mind, friendship (or actually, writing about it) is what I keep discovering.

I was particularly interested in Sally Thomas’s fine reflection of childhood friendship, based on a New York Times article that explains how some professionals who work with children say that “best friends” is not a good thing.

And when I opened Universalis this morning to pray Morning Prayer, there was site creator Martin Kochanski’s breathtaking reflection on the beauty of passionate friendship and how our modern culture has all but destroyed it. (If you are reading this after today, you might need to search for the “About Today” page of the app, for the Wednesday of the 12th Week of Ordinary Time. The reflection appears that liturgical date each year).  Kochanski wrote this based on the first & second reading from today’s Office of Readings, about the holy, passionate friendship of David & Jonathan, and St. Aelred’s reflection on it.

So there is lots to ponder and consider lately, it seems, about when we consider the nature of friendship and what it means to be a true friend.  In The Keys of the Kingdom, friendship plays an enormous role in Father Chisolm’s life.  Isn’t that true for all of us?  We are all affected by our friends, both for good and ill.  And navigating the terrain of friendship can be alternately easy and treacherous, and a lifelong work.

In The Keys to the Kingdom, Fr. Francis Chisolm is going back to England after many years living as a missionary to China.  A powerful man in the community who had after much time become Fr. Francis’ friend, an influential friend of the town, Mr. Chia, comes to say goodbye.  Earlier in the novel, Fr. Francis had healed (through normal medicine, not miraculous means) Mr. Chia’s son, and Mr. Chia had offered to convert out of gratitude.  Fr. Francis would not let him.

On this visit:

An odd silence fell.  Mr. Chia broke it with constraint. “Since our time together is limited it might not be unfitting if we talked a moment regarding the hereafter.”


“All my time is dedicated to such talk.”


Mr. Chia hesitated, beset by unusual awkwardness. “I have never pondered deeply on what state lies beyond this life.  But if such a state exists it would be very agreeable for me to enjoy your friendship there.”


Despite his long experience, Father Chisolm did not grasp the import of the remark.  He smiled but did not answer.  And Mr. Chia was forced in great embarrassment to be direct.


“My friend, I have often said: There are many religions and each has its gate to heaven.” A faint color crept beneath his dark skin.  “Now it would appear that I have the extraordinary desire to enter by your gate.”


Dead silence.  Father Chisolm’s bent figure was immobilized, rigid.


“I cannot believe that you are serious.”


‘Once, many years ago, when you cured my son, I was not serious.  But then I was unaware of the nature of your life. ..of its patience, quietness and courage.  The goodness of a religion is best judged by the goodness of its adherents.  My friend…you have conquered me by example.’


Father Chisolm raised his hand to his forehead, that familiar sign of hidden emotion.  His conscience had often reproached him for his initial refusal to accept Mr. Chia, even without a true intention.  He spoke slowly.  ‘All day long my mouth has been bitter with the ashes of failure.  Your words have rekindled the fires in my heart.  Because of this one moment I feel that my work has not been worthless.  In spite of that I say to you … don’t do this for friendship–only if you have belief.’


Mr. Chia answered firmly.  ‘My mind is made up.  I do it for friendship and belief.  We are as brothers, you and I.  Your Lord must also be mine.  Then, even though you must depart tomorrow, I shall be content, knowing that in our Master’s garden our spirits will one day meet.’


At first the priest was unable to speak.  He fought to conceal the depth of his feeling.  He reached out his hand to Mr. Chia.  In a low uncertain tone he said, —


‘Let us go down to the church.’

When I had this idea for talking about great dads in fiction, I didn’t realize how hard it would be to come up with a number of great dads, or at least pretty good ones!

Many dads and moms in fiction I love are absent, dead or not a factor.  In others, the dad is considerably less than ideal, and that’s kind of the point.  But here’s a fair, by no means exhaustive, list of good and great dads to consider.

I am indebted to my almost-teenaged daughter, who helped me immensely in ideas for great dads in the youth fiction in particular, especially why they are so good, and for helping in describing Emma’s father so well.

1.  Mr. Henry Woodhouse, Emma’s father, in Jane Austen’s Emma.  As those who know me know, I am a huge Austen fan, and I dearly love the novel and the title character.  Emma’s father is overly concerned about safety and health of those he loves, always fussing and forecasting doom.  While he is a bit of a comic character (but really, I ask you, who isn’t in Emma?), he is loving, kind and generous.  The love and respect shown to him by his daughter & future son-in-law by their decision to live at his house after marriage rather than have him separated even by a mile from his younger daughter, speaks volumes.

My husband has never read Emma, but enjoyed watching with my daughters this winter the excellent most recent adaptation that aired on PBS, and they took to calling him “Mr. Woodhouse” as he is a teensy bit of a worrier.  He could be heard to say on a number of occasions since then, “Are you not taking a scarf? You might get chilled.” and “No cake, especially for the children. There must not be cake.”

2.  Lavrans Bjorgulfsson, father of Kristin in Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset.  Lavrans is by no means perfect, but so real, like many fathers.  I find him honorable, steadfast, so realistic in many ways, from his work among his farmer tenants to his sacrificial work on behalf of his family, to his fierce loyalty to and protection of Kristin’s honor, both when she does and does not deserve it.

4.  Caddie Woodlawn’s father in Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink.  This is a children’s book, but would be enjoyed by anyone.  He is noble, calm-headed, kind, but firm with his children.  I don’t want to give anything away from the novel (because if you haven’t read it, please do! It’s a treat!), but his American spirit of hard work and equality brings tears to my eyes whenever I read this children’s novel.

5.  Pa in The Little House books.  Pa’s total love of his family, his dear affection for his brood, is so charming and winning.  Most of us who grew up reading the books and watching the television show immediately think, “Where’s my little half-pint of sweet cider half drunk up?”

6.  Robert Ray, the father of Betsy Ray, the central characters in the Besty-Tacy series of books, that fabulous semi-autobiographical collection of stories by Maud Hart Lovelace.  There are ten altogether in the series, set in early 20th century Minnesota; the firs four are best for younger kids, and the rest good for older kids and adults.  Mr. Ray is a benevolent, hardworking patriarch to three daughters, and lends a loving, mischievous paternal presence in these books full of fun and love.  In Betsy & Tacy Go Over the Big Hill, Mr. Ray successfully referees a “terrible” quarrel between Betsy, Tacy & Tib, and older sisters Julia and Katie.

Any great dads in fiction that you care to share?