Please by a show of hands let me know if you read my article yesterday, which wasn’t an article at all but a joke about the rabbi and the tv producer. If it isn’t one of the funniest you’ve ever heard, well, we have different perspectives on humor. But for the few who may have missed it, and for the sake of my words tonight, let me repeat it… 
 
   After services one Shabbat evening, Rabbi Schleplowitz is approached by Larry Levy, the famous TV producer. “Rabbi, that sermon was amazing! I want to put you on my talk show on national TV.” The rabbi responded, “Oh my, I’m so flattered. That would be wonderful!” 
 
   “Here’s the thing, Rabbi. TV audience attention spans are much smaller. You can’t do a 25-minute sermon on TV.” 
 
   “Oh, I see. Well, I could take away the opening anecdote about my trip to Brazil. That would chop it down by a few minutes…bring it down to 18 or 19 minutes. 
 
    “Yeah, Rabbi, that’s still too long.” 
 
     “Instead of five examples of the teaching, I could do it with three. That would make it 12 minutes.” 
 
     “Now we’re cookin’, Rabbi, but it’s got to be shorter than that.” 
 
     “Well, really I just need one strong example. Beginning, middle, end, with a nice takeaway. I could do the whole sermon in five minutes flat.” 
 
      “So, Rabbi, why DIDN’T you?” 
                             __________________ 
             
 
    What makes it funny, in my humble opinion, is that it does so well what a joke is supposed to do, namely, to “make right” that which is not the way the situation in question is supposed to be, or usually is. That is to say, most jokes have a punchline that comes out of nowhere; usually the only ones who know the punchline in the first place are those who heard it before. Other than those people we expect the obvious and rarely if ever do we hear the obvious in a punchline. We expect the producer to say something like, “Perfect, Rabbi! Please be at the studio at 10 am tomorrow so we can tape it,” or something similar. But that’s not how our humor works. The producer was making a point, and the fall guy was my makebelieve colleague. And if you think for a moment that my words tonight will take “five minutes flat,” well, well, you never know. 
    I read something interesting about Jewish comedians and their jokes that stressed how we Jews are and have always been, masters of irony. One definition of irony is having a conclusion that is least expected. The piece goes on to say this kind of humor is born from our undying hope, our messianic expectations; we live in an imperfect world, and while we want there to be perfection, we can only get glimpses of it. And for us, our jokes are the glimpses.  
   One example in the humor category that I believe fits this to a “tee”is  about the man who hires a kid to paint his porch while he is away on a business trip. He comes back to find that the kid painted his brand new car. When questioned as to how dumb he is, the kid says, “Hey, I did what you asked me to do…and by the way, your Porsche is a 
Mercedes.” 
    There is also the one dealing with the old Soviet era. Agents of the KGB (the Soviet-era’s equivalent of the FBI or CIA) were informed by their superiors that there was an espionage ring operating in a Moscow neighborhood and the head of the ring could be found in a certain apartment building; they were given the supposed spy’s name. 
    The agents broke into the home of Igor Goldstein. Without batting an eye, Igor said, “You want Goldstein, the spy. He’s on the next floor up.” So much for those agents knowing everything; it seemed that everybody knew what was going on except the KGB. 
     It’s no wonder that the Golden Age of Jewish Humor was immediately after the Holocaust. In fact, there are even jokes about that terrible period of time that were floated around soon after the Shoah itself. But Jewish humor, which experts say can even be found in the Bible, really grew in the 50s and 60s. The kings and queens of comedy were found in the Catskills; and while the Borsht Belt is no more, their style of humor can be found in many of the stand-up comedians today, and even in shows such as Seinfeld, and movies such as 
Young Frankenstein, even a musical like The 
Producers that had to do with Hitler.  
(How am I doing for time? Five minutes up yet?”)    Following the Shoah we had to laugh; we had to make our People laugh. Who could accomplish this best other than Jewish comedians?! We find that anytime the chips are down, the humor pops up. 
There was no need for cursing in the jokes; no need to be sexually explicit. Yes, there were innuendos, but the humor was in the substance of the joke itself, and often the joke poked fun at ourselves. We identified with the put-downs; we related to the the humorous depiction of our immigrant selves even if we were in this country for a few generations.That was the draw of the Catskills resorts and later the Jewish scene in Miami. It wasn’t Palm Beach and it wasn’t the cliffs of Rhode Island where the mansions were. Those would be the next steps but not for the majority of our people. No, in post-WWII one was “rich” if you could get out of the city for two weeks, so if the comedian made fun of the Lower East Side what the guests unconsciously heard in Grossingers or Kutschers was, “You made it in America! Let’s poke fun of what you left behind.”  
    When we talk about punchlines that really surprise us, and I mean REALLY surprise us, one of my all-time favorite stories is the one I believe I included very early in my IN THE INTERIM column. A Jewish guy is sitting on his porch in Florida when a farmer comes by pushing a wheelbarrow. “Whatcha got in the wheelbarrow, Mister?” The farmer replies, “Got manure.” “And what do you do with the manure?” The farmer answers, “I spread it over my strawberries.” After thinking a moment, the man says, “Hey, listen, come to my house this Sunday morning and try them with some sour cream.” Even Jewish culinary delights, even dishes that came from the shtetls of Eastern Europe creep into American jokes, and they come out of nowhere, as it were. 
   Is there anything obscene in that one? Nothing! 
  Anything particularly offensive? I don’t think so or I wouldn’t have repeated it from the pulpit. Indeed, it is a matter of cultural perspective. Who but the Jew can link manure with a Sunday morning dish? In fact, who but the Jew uses food as the staple for humor more than just about any other topic? Tears come down my face when I heard Jackie Mason say, “You call this a piece of cake? It’s not even a cookie.” And as I was driving to one of my earlier interim pulpits, I literally had to pull over when I heard his routine about the 
Jewish woman who demanded to be moved from one table to another in a restaurant because either it was “too drafty,” “too noisy,” “to close to the bathroom,” “too close to the kitchen,” “too close to the front door,” “too close to the window.” All I could think of was Suzy’s mother! And then there was the one about the waiter who comes over to a group of Jewish women who are eating lunch in a deli. He asks a simple question, “Ladies, is ANYTHING alright?”Jewish humor employs stereotypes that hit the nail on the head, and jokes about mother and fathers, bubbes and zaydes, rabbis and cantors. No one is spared, no one is sacred.  
    Woody Allen has a collection called Hasidic Tales Retold. In one story he begins by saying something like, “Rabbi Schleplowitz of a Chasidic family going back many generations, was known for his unusual personality which, according to legend, caused many a pogrom in Eastern Europe.” And then the story begins, “‘Rabbi Schleplowitz, why don’t Jews eat pork?’ Rabbi Schleplowitz responds, ‘We don’t?’” You see, no one is spared.  
(How am I doing for time now? Five minutes over yet?) 
   I am going to conclude with one of the most detailed stories ever told, one involving interfaith dialogue, involving Catholics and Jews, involving our history, antisemitism, and, of course, involving food. It is called The Great Debate. 
   Several centuries ago, the Pope decreed that all the Jews had to convert to Catholicism or leave Italy. There was a huge outcry from the Jewish community, so the Pope offered a deal. He’d have a religious debate with the leader of the Jewish community. If the Jews won, they could stay in Italy; if the Pope won, they’d have to convert or leave. 
   The Jewish people met and selected aged and wise rabbi to represent them in the debate. 
   However, as the rabbi spoke no Italian and the Pope spoke no Hebrew, they agreed that it would be a “silent” debate. 
   On the chosen day, the Pope and the rabbi sat opposite each other. 
   The Pope raised his hand a showed three fingers. 
   The rabbi looked back and raised one finger. 
   Next, the Pope waved his finger around his head. 
The rabbi pointed to the ground where he sat.     The Pope brought out a communion wafer and a chalice of wine. 
   The rabbi pulled out an apple. 
   With that the Pope stood up and declared himself beaten and said that the rabbi was too clever. The Jews could stay in Italy! 
    Later, the cardinals met with the Pope and asked him what had happened. First, I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me there is still only one God common to both our beliefs. Then I waved my finger around my head to show him that God was all around us. He responded by pointing to the ground to show that God was also right here with us. Finally I pulled out the wine and wafer to show that God absolves us of all our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me of original sin. He bested me at every move and I could not continue.      Meanwhile the Jewish community gathered to ask the rabbi how he had won. I don’t have a clue!!! the rabbi said. First he told me that we had three days to get out of Italy, so I gave him the finger. Then he tells me that the whole country would be cleared of Jews, so I told him we were staying right here. And then what? asked a woman. Who knows, said the rabbi, He took out his lunch so I took out mine. 
    Jewish humor uses everything at our disposal. Sometimes what comes out is hysterically funny and sometimes not. Sometimes it describes the world in which we live, and sometimes the world in which we’d like to live. Sometimes it puts down one group of people, Jewish or otherwise, and sometimes there are points that you literally have to be Jewish to understand. 
   The bottom line? We’re good at fashioning stories to which we can laugh, and cry. We’re good at not taking ourselves too seriously. We are really good at good, clean, stand-up comedy. To prove it? 
Just listen to my sermons.