This is what happens when people huddle in their own antiseptic little worlds, having failed to get a decent liberal arts education.

The whole benediction was an expansive American quilt. Lowery started by reciting lines from James Weldon Johnson's "Lift Every Voice and Sing," then referenced "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands," an African-American spiritual, and "A Mighty Fortress is Our God," a 480-year-old hymn written by Martin Luther himself -- not King, but the German patriarch of Protestants.

Lowery kissed Matthew 25 and the Preamble to the Constitution on his way to Old Testament prophets Hosea, Isaiah, Micah and Amos. He made a quick inflection of "Walk Together Children," a spiritual, and then a reference to "For All the Saints," a popular Anglican hymn written during the Civil War. And then he closed with a playful re-mix of a blues song by Big Bill Broonzy, "Black, Brown and White," which was the thing that started the solemn-ites wailing.

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ADMITTEDLY, SINCE LOWERY CLOSED HIS PRAYER WITH A JOKE, one could argue that it was inappropriately light-hearted. But the solemn we have with us always. By that time, it had been a lengthy and serious ceremony. Lowery's borrowed blues met gales of laughter, including a chuckle from President Obama. Lowery's lilt left little room for misunderstanding, except from the terminally solemn.

Those eager to misunderstand painted Lowery as a throwback to the 1960s, someone who did not understand we are in a "post-racial" age. In fact, Lowery was the cheerful counterbalance to the Rev. Rick Warren, a bland conservative evangelist whose vocal opposition to gay marriage made him controversial among Obama loyalists.

The 87-year-old United Methodist preacher served as Warren's mirror opposite: black, liberal, from a mainstream denomination, spicy and irreverent, an ardent advocate of equality for gays and lesbians. Lowery has not been fossilized since he led the Selma to Montgomery march but has fought apartheid, gun violence, pollution, poverty and homophobia. In 2000, he shocked the general conference of the United Methodist Church by delivering a speech calling for the acceptance of gay clergy. I don't know whether he spoke in doggerel verse that day, but he walked tall, and only a lonely few walked with him.

I regret to say that we have not seen the last of solemnity's legions. They will be here every time anyone mentions race, drearily insisting that Obama's election means the race problem is officially unmentionable.

"We elected a black man," they will wail, "and now you want to talk about 40 percent of African-American children born in poverty." Liberals who appear to be having fun will be a special target, because we're supposed to wring our hands and whimper. But they'd best not expect all of us to act like the one-legged man at a public tail-kicking. Lowery of the sturdy laugh and the big boots will not walk alone.

Let all who take offense come forth and prove their solemn-ite credentials. The rest of us can see a jewel when it glitters. Thanks to Rev. Lowery for light and levity, and for all his years of comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable. We are all evidence enough that God has a sense of humor.