An interview with humorist and writer Eric Metaxas, author of the newly released book, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About God (But Were Afraid to Ask), WaterBrook Press, 2005.
Eric Metaxas is one of the funniest people I know. When Eric joined the BreakPoint writing team in 1997, he regularly came up with ideas for commentaries that would never have occurred to anyone else on our team (or to anyone else on the planet, for that matter).
While my two sons cherished Eric’s award-winning children’s books and tapes–gifts from Eric every Christmas–they loved his Don’t You Believe It!, a parody of Ripley’s “Believe It or Not” newspaper column. (Sample gem: “Tanu, a pet goat in the village of Murai, Uganda, is the legal guardian to each of the village’s 78 inhabitants. She rose to this position through a series of maneuvers so stunningly Machiavellian in their nature that the entire region was turned upside down–and all who opposed her lost their lives!”)
I knew that if Eric ever turned his hand to writing a theological book, it would be impossible to read it without laughing out loud, because while Eric is quite capable of taking on Life’s Serious Questions, he would find it impossible to do so for long without lapsing into humor. Thus, in Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About God (But Were Afraid to Ask), we have an imaginary conversation between Eric and a spiritual seeker engaging in dialogue like this:
Question: Is the Bible supposed to be taken literally?
Answer: Some passages are meant to be taken literally, while others are meant to be taken metaphorically. But that’s true of all writing, isn’t it? When the poet William Blake wrote “Little Lamb, who made thee?” he wasn’t expecting the lamb to stand up, clear its throat, and say “Gaaaawwd!”
Eric also deals with questions about angels and demons, psychics and sex, Heaven and hell, and evidence that God exists.
I recently sat down with Eric to talk about his new book.
Anne Morse: Why did you write this book?
Eric Metaxas: Ever since I came to faith in 1988, I’ve been on the lookout for what I call the “ultimate evangelistic tool.” I never found it, so finally I decided that maybe I should write it. I wanted to write a book that you could just hand to someone–to almost anyone–without feeling embarrassed. And the book would present the faith winsomely but powerfully. And the person you gave it to would actually read it, not just politely take it. I also wanted people to enjoy reading it, even if they didn’t agree with everything in it.
Morse: That’s a tall order. What made you think you could write something like that?
Metaxas: Well, first of all I believe in miracles.
Morse: Ha!
Metaxas: Second, I’ve written for both Chuck Colson and VeggieTales. You figure that between the two I would at least know what’s biblical and what’s funny, right? But seriously, I knew that if I could just put down the conversations I’d been having over the course of seventeen years as a believer, I’d be on the right track. Everyone has the same questions, and it’s rare that they find answers that satisfy them. Usually the answers are too “religious” and are off-putting for that reason, or they are too theological and are therefore somehow confusing. I knew that I could communicate what I’d learned simply and in a fun, extremely readable way. At least that was the goal.
The idea is that this book will start conversations with people on the subject of the Gospel. I think just getting a conversation started is the key–the real problem we often have as Christians.
Morse: Why is that?
Metaxas: Because most nonbelievers tend to shy away from us because they think they already know what we’re going to say. They avoid the subject of God and faith, unless they are really hurting, which is a totally different story. But if they are pretty much fine, they don’t want to open up that can of worms with anyone they know as a serious Christian. In their minds it will just lead to divisive arguing, which it often does. So they avoid it.
The Christian world doesn’t really speak the same language as the non-Christian world, the world of the culture at large. We can tend to be too serious, too earnest. Most non-Christians need to hear a bit of humor or irony to put them at ease, to let them know we’re okay, that we’re not just crazy religious fanatics. That’s why VeggieTales has been so insanely successful in the wider mainstream market as well as the evangelical Christian market. If something is funny, it relaxes us and suddenly we open up to the message in a way that we wouldn’t otherwise feel comfortable doing. We’re more open to God’s truth when it is presented with a smile or a laugh. It just doesn’t feel so forced and awkward.
Morse: Where does your sense of humor come from?
Metaxas: I have no idea. I edited the humor magazine at Yale, but before that I never thought of myself as being especially funny.
Morse: How did attending a secular, Ivy League college affect your faith and your thinking?
Metaxas: One thing Yale did for me was give me insight into how the cultural elites think. There is an intense skepticism toward God and biblical faith. I should know, because while I was there I shared that skepticism. Most Christians struck me as off-putting, as odd, and as judgmental. It seemed that the people who got ahead were the ones that didn’t take faith that seriously. So I know what that mindset is like, and I understand it. And, of course, that attitude has seeped into the mainstream culture over the last few decades. Which is why I wrote this book.
Morse: Do biblical writers employ humor?
Metaxas: Not per se. In a way, humor has become part of the lingua franca of our culture. So to speak to the culture effectively, you would do well to think about putting your tongue in your cheek occasionally. I think that biblical writers and communicators of the Gospel have always understood that the Lord commands us to humble ourselves by speaking to our audiences in a way they can understand. We aren’t meant to keep the knowledge of God to ourselves, but to communicate it, to put it in an idiom that those not yet privileged to know it can grasp. Paul did that on Mars Hill when he referenced the unknown God, when he referenced secular poets.
We use the things of this world to communicate the knowledge of the things beyond this world. Whenever we go into a foreign culture and translate the Gospel of John into an obscure dialect we are doing it. Whenever we try to ape the customs and dress code of a culture, to better speak the Gospel to them in a way they can understand it–the way Don Richardson writes about so powerfully in his book Peace Child–we are doing what the Lord has commanded. And at this time in the West, in America and Europe, humor and irony are part of the cultural language.
That said, there is, of course, some humor in Scripture. Elijah on Mt. Carmel is definitely employing sarcasm and humor. And Jesus’ wit is so sharp sometimes it’s almost painful. His answer about rendering unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and unto God what is God’s is so brilliant, such a killer answer, that if you didn’t know He was God, you might at least have guessed it at that point. Humor is profoundly human, and expressing ourselves as human beings we will at some point find ourselves laughing. It’s inevitable. Truth can often be heartbreaking, but it can also sometimes be undeniably hilarious. Often when we recognize the truth of something, wit and humor are involved.
Everything You Always Wanted to Know About God (But Were Afraid to Ask) can be ordered through Eric’s website.
