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Satan opposes joy.
Real joy freezes Satan in terror.
So Satan supports the serious.
Too often I cooperate in this. God may well be throwing a party. It appears that I am invited. But why would I bother with a party when I
have so many important things to do?
I have a farm to tend. I have a business to build. I have a church to serve and books to read
and meetings to manage. I have sermons
to preach and classes to prepare.
Let’s not even start with the yard work
and house work and book work staring me in the face. Then there are the lessons and practices and
games and concerts. I simply don’t have
time for some foolish party—even if the invitation comes directly from God!
Satan supports the serious.
When I am serious, I tend to focus on
me. The more I focus on me, the less I
focus on God. For example, I spend so
much time working for Jesus that I
never spend any time with Jesus. I am so busy studying God that I never take time to enjoy God. I am so consumed
with worry that I have nothing left
for worship. I am so busy handing out invitations that I
never get to the party.
Satan supports the serious. Because the business of Hell is
serious—deadly serious.
God
invites me to the party. Am I going?
I align myself with the first invitees
in the parable. I have made my
confession about that. I know you can
make your own confession. We all face
the same charge. Count One of God’s
indictment is “Failure to Party.”
After all, Jesus loves a good
party. He does dinner with Pharisees and
tax collectors. He makes sure a wedding
has enough wine. He supplies a picnic
for thousands and dances with those freed from demons. And what does he get?
The serious people are not amused. “Look,”
they say, “a glutton and a drunkard, a
friend of tax collectors and sinners!” (Matthew 11:17). Guilty as charged, Jesus says.
The deadly serious people could not take
Jesus seriously. The charge against them
was “Failure to Party.” They, too, were
guilty as charged.
God
invites me to the party. Am I going?
I can excuse all those serious
people. They had not yet seen the end of
the story. They didn’t know the reason
for the party. But what about me? Where is my excuse? I know how things turn out!
This is the Marriage Feast of the
Lamb! Sin, death and evil have done
their worst to Jesus. And they have
failed. In Revelation twenty-one, we
hear the song played at the Divine wedding dance.
“See,
the home of God is among mortals…
And
God himself will be with them;
He
will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death
will be no more;
Mourning
and crying and pain will be no more,
For
the first things have passed away.”
If I cannot sing that song, then why am
I here? If I cannot dance to that tune,
why did I come? If that song doesn’t
make me smile, I am in the wrong place!
God
invites me to the party. Am I going?
Worship is a party, first and
foremost. Worship is joy—joy embodied
and enacted.
But we are serious people. We demand decorum and decency. We clamor for cool and calm control. We regulate our rituals and domesticate the
Divine drama. We cooperate with Satan in
corralling the Spirit.
After all, how dare we be happy? People are still dying. Diseases leap from continent to
continent. Missiles rain down on the
innocent, and murderers still stalk their victims. Women are abused, and cancer still
rages. Hungry bellies growl for food,
and naked bodies shiver for clothing.
Depression deepens into darkness.
Children are stolen for sex and soldiering.
What business have we to celebrate
anything?
Here is what I imagine. I imagine that I go to a wedding
reception. The bride and groom radiate
happiness. The joint is jumping with
joy. And I—I just can’t stand it. “What is wrong with you people?” I
shout. “Don’t you realize that this is
the beginning of sixty years of misery?
There will be a miscarriage. There
will be horrific arguments. There will
be debt and discouragement. There will
be ungrateful children and unloving parents.
At best it will end with death and at worst with divorce. You should be weeping in despair, not
laughing love.”
In my dream I hear a little tune. “Every party needs a pooper. That’s why we invited you.”
Yes, the journey has its share of
puzzles and pitfalls and pain. But we
know how it all ends. “He will wipe every tear from their eyes…for
the first things have passed away.”
Worship without joy is like balloons
without helium.
If we church people can’t jump for joy
with Jesus, then Jesus will find people willing to learn. Our worship must be more like a wedding and
less like a funeral, more like a circus and less like a class.
God
invites me to the party. Am I going?
We can’t just show up for the buffet and
then slip out during the toasts. That’s
the problem with the underdressed guest in the parable. A good host provided proper wedding duds for
underdressed guests. So this fellow must
have turned down the offer of proper party clothes.
He just came for the food.
We get our wedding clothes when we are
baptized. “As many of you as were baptized into Christ,” Paul writes in
Galatians three, verse twenty-seven, “have
clothed yourselves with Christ.”
The only question is whether we will stay
dressed or not. Because with Jesus,
every day is a party!
Three years ago I bought our
granddaughter a princess outfit. It came
complete with tiara and wand. When I
bought it, the dress reached her ankles.
Now it hardly covers her bottom.
But she still wants to wear that dress every time she comes. It is a sign that she is our princess and our
joy. It says much about who she is.
Our baptism dresses us for lives of
joy. As C. S. Lewis once wrote, “Joy is
the serious business of heaven” (Letters
to Malcolm, page 93). Resist the
temptation to pour water on the Holy Spirit’s fire. “Do not
quench the Spirit,” Paul writes in First Thessalonians five, verse
nineteen. Instead, blow on the glowing
coals of joy until they burst into flame.
This means focusing every day on what is
good and gracious, what is pure and positive, what is enduring and
excellent. The world has no shortage of
crabby critics. The world has an
abundance of shouting heads. It takes no
talent to trumpet trouble. It takes no
skill to celebrate sin. It takes no
wisdom to whine about the world.
No, we celebrate what is true,
honorable, just, pure, and pleasing. We
lift up what is commendable, praiseworthy, and excellent. That’s the music at God’s party. We are called to know how to dance.
God
invites me to the party. Am I going? You bet!
Let us pray…
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