No laughing matter

The circus came to town recently. My family didn’t make it to any of the performances of the “greatest show on earth.” While I missed seeing all the animals doing their amazing tricks and the trapeze artists twirling about so dangerously high in the air, I didn’t miss the clowns.

It seems I’m not alone. A study out of Great Britain determined that a majority of folks interviewed didn’t like clowns, some calling them “frightening and unknowable.” Now I’m not scared of clowns; I just don’t find them all that funny.

For all their pratfalls and shenanigans, I don’t chuckle at clowns. But some people are really afraid of clowns. Technically that’s called coulrophobia.

I’m not referring to the overall-wearing guy who makes balloon animals for youngsters at Chick-fil-A on family night. He’s doing a real community service.

And somehow Ronald McDonald gets a pass. I guess it’s his Happy Meals that do the trick.

We should have had a clue in elementary school. Have you ever heard of a child who wanted to grow up and be a clown?

Now I’m not here to bust on clowns. Everybody has a job to do. In fact, how difficult must it be to get someone to laugh when they are terrified of you?

I guess we could learn a few things from clowns. They are dedicated to their calling. True professionals to the end—no matter how many times they are hit in the face with a pie. They have a singleness of purpose—to entertain us. Except for a few bizarre films with clowning misfits, I’ve never known a clown who really wants to do anything but make folks laugh.

Living out your values doesn’t require painting your face and wearing a red ball on your nose, it does require concerning yourself with what God wants for your life.

So, hats off to the clowns. But please, don’t invite one to my next birthday party.

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