Chris Pratt in his viral MTV awards acceptance speech from a few years ago outlined nine rules he wanted to share specifically with his young audience. But it was Rule No. 4 that illustrated the framework for his overarching message.

“When giving a dog medicine, put the medicine in a little piece of hamburger and they won’t even know they’re eating medicine.”

Mixed in with some crude potty humor and lots of laughs from the audience were a few surprising heartfelt rules. Rule No. 2 was “You have a soul. Be careful with it.” Rule No. 6 was “God is real. God loves you. God wants the best for you. Believe that, I do.” And Rule No. 8 was just as blunt, “Learn to pray. It’s easy, and it’s so good for your soul.”

Many news articles latched onto and promoted his non-religious rules like how to keep your poop from stinking up the bathroom at a party (“the hamburger”) and as a result unintentionally promoted what Chris intended to be “the medicine” in his message. What an incredibly witty and cleverly constructed award acceptance speech.

This hamburger-medicine approach has been used often, especially with youth. The theory is that if you can cake a moral message in enough entertainment and comedy, you can make it palatable. That no one would willfully choose to accept the medicine on its own.

It’s the model for many church youth groups. The model for Disney movies. The model for children’s stories and TV shows. And it’s a model many parents use with their own kids. Even I instinctively resort to humor often to soften my kids up and make them more open to lessons I try to pass on to them.

But I stumbled upon an interesting quote by the late pastor, professor, and writer Dallas Willard who has had me pondering when this approach may go too far.

He states that today much of our art can be summed up in two words: “cute and absurd.” And the more I’ve pondered it, the more I think he’s correct. We should be cautious of when the pendulum swings too far.

So much of modern TV shows, movies, and books, not just for children, depend on the cute and absurd for almost the entirety of their content in a way that historical storytelling hasn’t required. Is there a historical equivalent of “The Emoji Movie” or “Trolls?” Were kids in past generations reading books inundated with pictures of simply cute or silly things? Did past stories include similar sidekick characters that now seem to be used principally for comic relief and merchandising?

If you cover that medicine in too much hamburger, does it lose its effectiveness? Or maybe by fixating on the hamburger too much, we forget to include the medicine in the first place?

I think Chris Pratt gave a succinct and distilled picture of what this can look like. He could have given nine funny rules for life that would have been discussed in the next news cycle and moved on with his life. But he was willing to put himself out there and add a few doses of some important truths that he wished to impart to others. I can only applaud him for that. If anything, it showed that someone with those values could still find a place in Hollywood and maybe give others confidence to be themselves in environments that seem bereft of people with similar beliefs.

I think it serves as a reminder that seriousness and levity don’t have to be mutually exclusive. The proper mix of both might be the best recipe for us getting the medicine we need.