Humor can help, especially when it hurts

During my early years in Chicago, I took a comedy writing course at The Second City. My motivation: I’m a huge fan of comedy, from sketch to standup, and I wanted to do something that scared me a little. (OK—a lot.) 

Mission accomplished. Performing my own material in front of a room full of people felt a little bit like that dream where you’re taking a test you didn’t study for.  

Ever since then, I’ve decided my place at a comedy show is firmly planted in the audience, two drink minimum in hand; my job is to laugh at comedy, not create it. 

My course and “performance” made me truly appreciate great humor, and the comedians who make it, ever since. 

This month, we showcase the rich historical roots of the Chicago comedy scene, and we feature two of the next generation of Jewish comedians who are carrying on Chicago’s classic comedy tradition. 

Some may note that the cover of this issue is a departure from our past two October issues whose covers honor those who were murdered or taken hostage on October 7. 

Our objective isn’t to convey that all is now rosy for our people—three years after the largest-scale attack on Jews since the Holocaust.  

We know that the reality is, exasperatingly, quite the contrary. We know that antisemitism, in America and around the globe, is infuriatingly alive and well. We know that the singular disdain of Israel above all other countries is, painfully, en vogue. 

Rather, our rationale for showcasing comedy this month is that the Jews—from King David, Queen Esther, and the Maccabees, to “October 8th Jews” today—are a resilient people. We choose life. We transform adversity into something useful, beautiful, and, yes, often even funny. 

This past year, reclaiming our Jewish joy has been a popular conversation in organized Jewish spaces, including here at the magazine. We have made a conscious choice to lean into the blessings of being Jewish, not only the struggles. We as Jews must focus on what’s pulling us, not what’s pushing us away. 

Making people laugh—helping them maybe not to forget their troubles, but to reframe them through humor—has power. In fact, that’s a pretty hefty contribution to society, if you ask me.   

The act of cheering someone up is considered a big mitzvah in the Jewish tradition. The Baal Shem Tov, the famed Jewish mystical rabbi, once said, “Whoever lives in joy does the work of the Creator.” Another, Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, agreed, writing: “It is a great mitzvah to be in happiness always.” 

There’s a story in the Talmud about Rabbi Beroka Hoza’ah who would frequent the town market. On one of his visits, he asks the prophet Elijah if “there is anyone in this market who has a special share in the world to come?” In response, the prophet points to two brothers. So the rabbi approaches the men and asks them their occupation.” “We are jesters,” they reply.  

With everything we’ve been through, we’ve got to laugh—otherwise we’d only cry. As the famous Yiddish author Sholom Aleichem wrote, “The world is in a terrible state, and just on spite we ought not to cry about it. And if you want to know the truth, that’s the source of my humor…. Just to spite them, there’s going to be laughter.”