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“Joy is the net of love by which we catch souls.”
—Saint Teresa of Calcutta
Let’s be honest: no one wants to join a movement that looks miserable. The early Christians didn’t spread the Gospel by groaning through Galilee. They were known for their joy. Their laughter echoed off prison walls. Their eyes shone even in persecution. Joy wasn’t just a bonus. It was the proof that the Good News was actually good.
Too often today, evangelization is reduced to debates, dour sermons, or social media posts that read like divine cease-and-desist letters. But what if the most powerful tool for evangelization isn’t argument, but amusement? What if, instead of trying to be taken seriously all the time, we followed the advice of Saint Philip Neri: “Let us make fools of ourselves from time to time, and thus see ourselves, for a moment, as the all-wise God sees us.”
Saints Who Smiled: Philip Neri and the Patronage of Joy
Saint Philip Neri, the patron saint of joy and humor, didn’t see laughter as a distraction from holiness. He saw it as a highway. He once shaved half his beard before a meeting—on purpose. When someone asked him if they could wear a hairshirt as penance, he replied, “Only inside out and over your cassock.” Why? Because holiness isn’t a performance. It’s not for show. Joy keeps us real. And being real is where conversion starts.
Neri understood a basic truth: solemnity is not the same as sanctity. Joy is contagious. Humor is disarming. If you want to open someone’s heart to Christ, a well-timed joke might work better than a lecture.
I’ve found this to be true even in my own life. I started The Simple Catholic blog not just to catechize, but to reconnect with joy—mine and yours. In a world that takes itself too seriously, Philip Neri reminded me that sanctity often looks like someone who doesn’t need to prove anything. Someone who knows they are loved.
Joy doesn’t have to be a solo act either. Sometimes, it looks like sitting around the table with friends or youth group teens, playing The Catholic Card Game and belly-laughing at absurdly holy prompt-answer combos. It’s in those moments of lightness that hearts open naturally to something deeper. Evangelization often starts with connection, and joy is one of the strongest bridges.
Laughter as a Leap of Faith
G.K. Chesterton said it best: “Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.” That’s not a cute metaphor. It’s spiritual physics. When we cling to our pride, our reputation, our need to look “put together,” we sink. But when we surrender all that heaviness and laugh—even at ourselves—we rise. We fly.
Laughter is a leap of faith. It says, “I’m not afraid.” I’m not afraid to be silly, to be wrong, to be humbled. Why? Because I trust that God is good, and that He delights in me, even when I look ridiculous. That kind of joy is attractive. It evangelizes without preaching.
Chesterton warns us that “pride is the downward drag of all things into an easy solemnity.” It’s easy to be heavy. It’s much harder to be light. But that’s exactly what Jesus calls us to: “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:30). When we carry that lightness—spiritual joy—we become walking invitations to the Gospel.
I recently experienced this with my own family during a game night. We cracked open Council at Daybreak, a fast-paced Catholic twist on the classic Mafia-style social deduction game. Within minutes, we were laughing, accusing, defending, and yes, trying to uncover the heretic in our midst. What struck me wasn’t just how fun and easy it was to learn, but how naturally it brought out joy, discussion, and connection across generations. Games like this are a subtle but powerful way to build community. And in doing so, evangelize with joy.
The Gospel Is Not Grim: Evangelization with a Smile
Somewhere along the way, many Christians bought into the idea that the holier you get, the more serious you must become. As if heaven is a long staff meeting where nobody laughs, and all the saints just nod solemnly at one another over harp music.
But that’s not the faith we profess.
We follow a God who turned water into wine at a party. A Savior who welcomed children and praised mustard-seed faith. Jesus didn’t need to wear a sign that said “Messiah.” People were drawn to Him because He exuded something irresistible: joy.
When we share the Gospel without joy, we’re not offering the whole truth. As Venerable Fulton Sheen put it, “A divine sense of humor belongs to poets and saints.” If we truly believe in the Resurrection—if we really believe death has been defeated—then shouldn’t we be the most joyful people around?
Evangelization isn’t just about information. It’s about invitation. And no one RSVPs to a joyless dinner party.
Joy is a Witness the World Can’t Argue With
Mother Angelica once said, “I try to laugh a lot, because life is funny, and everybody today is too serious. The only tragedy in the world, my friend, is sin.” That’s the secret. Joy doesn’t ignore suffering—it transcends it. Christians aren’t joyful because life is easy. We’re joyful because God is with us in it.
Laughter reminds us that we’re not God. That’s a relief, by the way. It grounds us in humility and reminds others that this whole Christianity thing isn’t about perfection. It’s about transformation. When we laugh at ourselves, we’re giving others permission to breathe. To be themselves. To let grace in.
Saint Teresa of Avila said it plainly: “God save us from gloomy saints!” And she was right. Gloom doesn’t glorify God. Joy does. Joy is what makes people stop scrolling and ask, “What’s different about them?”
The world has plenty of cynicism. It’s drowning in it. What it needs is light. Joy. A people who know the punchline of the story: that Love wins, and they live accordingly.
A Joyful Challenge for You and Me
So here’s the challenge: if you want to evangelize, smile more. Tell a joke. Share a meme. Laugh at your own awkwardness. Tell the truth in love, but make sure it’s the joyful truth.
Evangelization doesn’t always mean street preaching or quoting catechism paragraphs. Sometimes it’s simply being the kind of person others want to be around. The kind of person whose laughter gives others permission to hope.
Maybe it even starts with a game night. A box of cards. A mystery heretic. A round of laughter that turns into a moment of grace.
After all, “Rejoice in the Lord always,” Paul tells us in Philippians. “Again I say, rejoice!” That’s not a suggestion. It’s a command from a man who wrote those words from a prison cell. Joy isn’t naive. It’s powerful. It’s subversive. And it’s “resurrection-colored” hope in a Good Friday world.
So go ahead. Be holy. Be honest. But for heaven’s sake, be funny too.
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My heartfelt greetings from Europe. Please forgive me to respond to this great article without a long enough contemplation, but to me this subject has caused a life-long struggle. The Bible itself is filled with the saddest stories one can imagine, and amongst them the grimmest of all is the great suffering of Christ Himself.
We are not talking about the future, or as long as we are, the exact point is that the current suffering needs to be necessary for the ability to rejoice later. One can’t rejoice now, as it would take away that chance. At least that’s how I see it based upon my reading the Bible.
Does sadness attract others? Of course not. But that’s the point exactly. Christ Himself tells us that his followers will be rejected just as much as He was rejected. He tells us that we shall and have to endure tribulations.
Even Christ tells us, and we can very well see why, that blessed are those who are mourning. Indeed, it is sin, as the vast amount of wrong-doing in the world that causes us to mourn. This world is filled with reasons to be sad, to be alarmed, and to realise that it is the evil’s work that dominates and controls our systems and societies. Even the church itself is filled with wolves in lamb’s clothing, ie false prophets. Some of them even offer great material wealth and other major blissful rewards if we follow their “christian” teachings.
But more to the point: How can we reconcile mourning, sadness and tragedy with joy, light-heartedness and laughter? Can we imagine a great religious movie or a classical painting showing Christ laughing while being on the cross or laughing when looking at a suffering or mourning person?
In my view, the actual price we pay for the promise of heaven is to be willing and able to perceive this world as it is: hell/tribulation for those who do good. Because that’s how reality is for those who do good and have genuine good will towards the others.
I do realise that many would disagree with me on this, and I do see as well the reasons both in general or taken by the Bible. We do want to believe we are here to enjoy every minute of our life. We do not want to spoil it for the others either. The Bible also claims: “rejoice”. And here, at this point, I wish to point out how much and how deeply I struggle with this question. Because as it is evident from your superb article, it seems to be a valid moral demand to be joyful for the sake of those around us. My issue lies with the fact that to me it would be pretending to be joyful when I can’t be and am lousy when it comes to acting or pretension.
So to me there lies the question, HOW to rejoice and mourn at the same time? I do find such a self-contradictory mental state an artificially induced fake mental state and as such either hypocrisy or mental abuse. Maybe it’s not only me, some others would also find such “demand” impossible. When I try to find a way to rejoice I can sense others see that I am fake. So they run away from me, either because I am depressed or because they can sense that my joy is fake.
Regarding the impossibility to rejoice in this world, I can testify as someone who lived long enough to tell that nothing in this world gives us a genuine reason for joy. To me the only emotion that comes naturally is immense sadness. Sometimes tears are flowing from me for days and no chance to stop them. My only hope and only goal is to pray 24/7 that Christ would indeed come to this world as He promised and change it to His KIngdom. The world is in such dire state that I see no other option. Yes, we can allow laughter as a temporary relief from the immense and continuous sadness/mourning that this world offers, but it never lasts. Not for those who genuinely try to be good, who renounce evil and go against its works. Look at, for example the life of great saints. The amount they had to suffer. For example, I just watched two biographical movies about Padre Pio.
Or even at present, let’s remember how many of even today’s Christians are martyred in regions of intolerant cultures.
I would love to know your opinion on these points and/or what I am missing….
Thanks a lot for your brilliant and inspiring article, for the opportunity to post a comment, and thanks everyone for your attention and time reading this.