Roast the Hot Dogs, Not Your Cousin
Midway through The Barbecue Sermon, we hit Tenet Three: If you can’t be nice, be funny (but don’t punch down). Humor is a shield and a signal. Used well, it can disarm egos, reframe tension, and reclaim your humanity—even if your uncle is quoting memes out loud.
Let’s laugh, but with ethics.
Humor is a gift. A lifeline. A way to survive the absurdity of life and the horror of your dad singing “Proud to Be an American” on a karaoke mic in the driveway. But not all humor is holy.
1. Funny Should Heal, Not Harm
Your brother-in-law lit a Roman candle with a cigar and now has one less eyebrow. Once you confirm he’s okay, you say, “Guess that’s one way to keep your bangs trimmed.”
Humor defuses tension. It creates community. But it should never wound.
2. Aim Up, Not Down
Punching down is easy. Making jokes at the expense of someone’s body, identity, or hardship is lazy at best, cruel at worst.
Instead, aim your jokes at systems, expectations, or your own awkwardness. “I brought gluten-free, dairy-free brownies. They taste like regret but they’re inclusive!”
3. Laugh With, Not At
Your friend dressed up as a bald eagle and is reading poetry into a megaphone. You say, “I didn’t know this was a renaissance fair, but I’m here for it.”
You’re inviting laughter with them—not making them the butt of the joke.
4. Humor Can Be a Kindness
Humor creates shared language. It can reframe failure, dissolve shame, and allow people to laugh through their anxiety.
It doesn’t have to be stand-up quality. Just real. Gentle. Kind.
Final Blessing:
Laughter is medicine. But like all medicine, dosage matters. The Cult of Brighter Days blesses your memes, your quips, your awkward one-liners—as long as they uplift more than they destroy.
Tell the jokes. Roast the hot dogs. Leave people feeling better, not smaller.
