Jewish Jokes: Did you hear the one about dusting?
Published March 27, 2025
I was recently asked by the mother of an old friend, “Why I do a “Jewish Joke of the Day.” I responded and she thought I should share my answer with you.
I believe as Jews, we love to laugh. I believe Jews love to laugh at themselves and laugh at the very things we as Jews, identify as being Jewish. I believe we do it out of love, and not with malice. I also believe that in history, we have used humor to add levity to serious Jewish concerns such as war, antisemitism, and the historical mistreatment of our people.
Jewish humor can be difficult to define. As William Novak and Moshe Waldoks write in “The Big Book of Jewish Humor,” it is easier to describe Jewish humor in terms of what it is not than what it is. “It is not, for example, escapist. It is generally not cruel and does not attack the weak or the infirm. At the same time, it is also not polite or gentle,” they wrote.
Not everyone gets every joke or finds every joke funny. If you don’t like Jewish humor because you believe it plays into “tropes” and “stereotypes” you are certainly entitled to that feeling, but please do not read further. Again, you are entitled to not enjoy Jewish humor, just as others are entitled to enjoy it.
If you agree with this definition of why we celebrate Jewish humor, you’re invited to read on. If you have a joke, please email me at [email protected]
Your Jewish Joke Of The Week
Your Jewish Joke From Previous Weeks
Jordan, a wise old Jewish father, walks into a bakery with his son, Max.
Max, eager to impress, sneaks two pastries into his pocket and whispers, “Dad, did you see that? The owner didn’t notice a thing! Pretty good, huh?”
Jordan sighs, shaking his head. “Max, Max… You think that’s smart? Watch and learn, my boy.”
He walks up to the bakery owner and says, “Sir, if you give me a pastry, I’ll show you a miracle—no Moses, no plagues, just good old-fashioned Jewish magic.”
Intrigued, the owner hands him a pastry. Jordan promptly eats it and asks for another. The owner, now even more curious, gives him a second one, which Jordan swallows as well.
The baker raises an eyebrow. “Alright, so where’s the miracle?”
Jordan pats his son on the shoulder and grins. “Look in his pockets.”
