While I enjoy a good joke, I’m not much of a prankster on April Fools’ Day or any other day for that matter. I can’t remember jokes and – truth be told – April 1 usually sneaks up on me in such a way that I’m unaware of the huckster holiday until someone does or says something ridiculous to me.
Seven years ago, I was caught off guard when I shared serious news with a friend and she accused me of pulling an April Fools’ shenanigan on her. Lord of Life had recently extended me a letter of call to be your pastor and I accepted. I thought through the best scenarios to share the information of my departure with the congregation and community, but before telling the congregation, area ministry colleagues, and Wichita friends, I wanted to tell my associate, Pastor Kristin.
On April 1, we met in her office and I told her about my decision to serve a church in Ohio. She chuckled and said, “Yeah, right! April Fools!” My facial expression and vocal tone as I reiterated my news quickly let her know that I wasn’t joking. I should have given the timing of my announcement a little more consideration.
No one is quite sure of the origins of April Fools’ Day. Some argue that a misreading of Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales (1392) launched the day of hoaxes, while others contend that it is tied to the vernal equinox in the Northern Hemisphere when Mother Nature fools people with the unpredictable and changing weather. Additional resources link April Fools’ Day to festivals in ancient Rome such as Hilaria, Latin for joyful.
“Some historians speculate that April Fools’ Day dates back to 1582, when France switched from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar, as called for by the Council of Trent in 1563. In the Julian Calendar, as in the Hindu calendar, the new year began with the spring equinox around April 1.
“People who were slow to get the news or failed to recognize that the start of the new year had moved to January 1 and continued to celebrate it during the last week of March through April 1 became the butt of jokes and hoaxes and were called ‘April fools,’” (history.com).
I imagine that there were many moments that Jesus’ disciples thought he was joking. Not only did his countless stories and parables entertain and confuse, but the miracles of turning water into wine, multiplying loaves and fishes, and multiple healings walked the line between sleight of hand and carnival act.
They thought he was a fool to stroll into the heart of the religious and political beast in Jerusalem. It would be certain death. His critics called him naïve, thinking that he could change the world with forgiveness and love. Through the ages, people have called him both Savior and Lord, as well as fool.
This April 1, we hear the Maundy Thursday reading where Jesus gives his disciples a new commandment to love one another (John 13:34-35). It wasn’t a suggestion or something to consider, but a mandate (Latin mandātum). On this, his final night on Earth, Jesus wasn’t fooling around or joking.
These words shape our lives, too. Selfless love and care for our neighbor isn’t some kind of a practical joke or a once-a-year gag. Instead, it is a promise that transforms who we are and how we live. St. Paul writes, “the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18).
As followers of Jesus, we can expect to be called naïve fools or worse. Serving and loving all people doesn’t make sense in a “protect your own interests” paradigm, but the Spirit of God pushes us forward into life that is lived beyond ourselves.
Not joking about loving everyone,
Pastor Lowell