Dr. William A. Ritter
First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: Mark 2:18-20, Romans 12:9-15
December 28, 2003
One of my better friends in the ministry is an African-American colleague (about my age) who once served a congregation that took pride in being as social as it was spiritual. In other words, they knew how to pray. But they also knew how to party. And they invited my friend (their pastor) to many of their parties. But while they expected him to show, they didn’t expect him to stay. Nor did they want him to stay. Just as he would relax and begin to feel comfortable, his hostess would say: “Thanks, ever so much, for coming, Reverend. But in a church like ours, with a schedule like yours, I know you have more pressing things you need to be doing. And we wouldn’t want to keep you from God’s important work.” Were he to protest that nothing more important was calling him elsewhere, it might appear as if he were shirking God’s work. So he accepted the gracious manner in which they helped him with his hat and coat. And off he went, figuring that the party he really wanted to attend was the party that was just beginning as he left.
Or, as he later reflected: “They always wanted me to stop by and bless the house. But they hoped I wouldn’t linger, lest my presence douse the house.”
Clergy are nice people….really nice people. Although some are better at projecting their warmth professionally than personally. Meaning that in social situations….removed from the comfort provided by robe, role or ritual….they can be a bit “reserved.” Which can be read as “distant.” And can give the impression of “dour.” Which, I suppose, can put a “damper” on things (as long as we’re sticking with words that begin with the letter D).
I hate it when clergy confirm such low expectations by looking the part. In one of those mix-and-mingle sessions in somebody’s living room….where you are supposed to circulate widely, meet everybody, and say nothing of substance to anybody….a fellow pointed to another chap who had just left our little group and asked if I knew him. After telling him I did, he asked: “Has he been sick?” “Not that I know of,” I said. So he asked me if I knew what he did for a living. “Yes,” I said, “he’s a Methodist minister.” “Oh,” he responded, “I guess that explains it.”
One of the criticisms leveled against Jesus….more than once, mind you….was that he didn’t appear to be sufficiently serious. And that his friends didn’t appear to be sufficiently serious, either. Mary Dahl, one of our members, wants us to find a picture of a laughing Jesus and hang it in our new Christian Life Center. Which has some merit. But as I mulled it over, I thought: “Maybe we could let our imaginations wander further and commission a picture of Jesus and his disciples, not only laughing, but recreating….playing some kind of game, as it were.” Even monks in an abbey (who pray regularly, multiple times a day) have been known to take a break and kick a soccer ball around. Trust me, I’ve seen them. So maybe we could commission Leroy Neimann to give us a painting (in colorful acrylics) of Jesus and the disciples playing pick-up basketball. Leading me to wonder, would Jesus play point, pivot or power forward? And would the team that had Jesus be the shirts or the skins?
If the image of a basketball-playing Jesus surprises you, then you can understand how other activities of Jesus and his disciples surprised people in his day….especially as we find such surprises revealed in the second chapter of Mark. Take note of where we are. Mark has just finished telling us how the disciples were called. And within a paragraph, they are in trouble. All of the accusations involve food. ‘Tis said they are:
Eating with the wrong people….tax collectors and sinners (2:15-17)
Eating on the wrong schedule….failing to observe the fast (2:18-22)
Eating on the wrong day….plucking grain on the Sabbath (2:23-28)
Stick, for a moment, with the fasting issue. Critics say to Jesus: “Look, John the Baptist has disciples and they fast. The Pharisees (whose devotion to the traditions of our elders keep us from forgetting who we are), they fast. But your friends never skip a meal. Tell us why that is.”
Now we need to slow down for a minute to gather some information. Like, what is fasting? And how often were Jews supposed to do it? Concerning the first question, fasting involves abstaining from all food….or certain foods….for a pre-determined period of time. This is done in order to accomplish certain physical, moral or spiritual ends. It’s more than not eating. It’s “not eating” with a purpose.
Although it strains the definition, I know people who fast in order to lose weight. But I know other people who fast in order to gain insight. A third group fasts to identify with the poor and the hungry….some of whom also devote the money saved (by not eating) to the poor and the hungry. While lesser numbers fast to practice self discipline, to identify with the sufferings of Jesus, or (in rare instances) to achieve altered states of consciousness. Insofar as fasting goes, I do understand it….could likely benefit from it….but, in my first 63 years of life, can’t say that I have ever practiced it.
Contrary to what you may have heard, regular fasting was not compulsory for first century Jews then, nor is it now. Stricter Jews adopted it voluntarily. But only one day of fasting (per year) was mandatory….that being the Day of Atonement at the beginning of autumn’s high holy days.
In Jesus’ day, devout Jews fasted once a week. When the Pharisee (in the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican) prayerfully suggests that he fasts twice a week, he is bragging more than he is praying. The issue is spiritual pride, not religious practice. But even twice-weekly fasts were not all that taxing, given that they lasted only from 6:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., after which normal foods could be eaten.
But the critics of Jesus in this little story care little about specifics. They have but one question (relative to fasting): “If everybody who’s anybody in the Jewish community does it, why don’t your disciples do it?” To which Jesus says: “Hey, nobody fasts while the bridegroom is with them.”
Which is a wonderful word-picture, don’t you see. You’re not supposed to take it literally. Jesus is not saying: “I am about to get married.” There’s no bride in the story….no band in the story….nobody’s wearing a tux in the story….or a long white dress in the story.
Instead, Jesus is pointing to something they already know….that even the strictest, law-abiding Jews are not required to fast during the time of a wedding. Which was a long respite by today’s standards. Consider. After a Jewish wedding, the couple did not go away for a honeymoon. Instead, they stayed at home. For a week….sometimes two weeks….an open house was kept and there was continual feasting and rejoicing. In a hard life, the wedding week was often the happiest time in a couple’s life. Which explains the rabbinic ruling that “any in attendance at a wedding are relieved of all religious observances which would lessen their joy.”
In Jesus’ day, wedding guests were called “children of the bridechamber.” So, to his critics, Jesus was calling his disciples “children of the bridechamber,” as if to say: “I am here. They are with me. It’s like a wedding. So lighten up.”
In this day and age, you could ride that horse too far. But I think you are obligated to saddle it, mount it and ride it a little. Life in the Lord is not only the good life, but the glad life. As I said last Sunday, if Christmas means that the world is an acceptable address for the Almighty, then it also means that joy is an acceptable emotion, and that celebration is an acceptable response to the presence of the Almighty. Not required. But accepted.
As I said in Steeple Notes, the very first sermon I ever preached (in the chapel of Yale Divinity School) was entitled “The Capacity to Celebrate.” Which manuscript I can’t find. And whose points I can’t remember. But the fact that it was my first sermon tells me something. In fact, it speaks volumes about my life. For, in those years, I lacked the very capacity of which I spoke. I grew up comfortable, but cautious. Emotionally speaking, living in my family meant that you were continually looking over your shoulder. Things might be all right now….even good now…. but no way were they likely to stay that way. In our family, we always waited for the other shoe to drop, because the floor was already littered with shoes that had fallen previously. And if Kool and the Gang had been around to suggest that I should “celebrate good times, come on,” I would have said: “No, that’s when I had to be more wary than other times.” For, in my family, we distrusted good times.
And instinctively, when I preached that sermon, I knew that this was where I needed to grow in my walk with Christ….that Christian maturity needed to loosen me up, not button me down….and that if I was ever going to experience what I Peter 1:8 refers to as “joy unspeakable,” I had a long way to go (and probably better begin preaching about it right now).
But many of you are going to read something else into my choice of title and text this morning. And you’re probably right. As you know from hints I have dropped over the last couple of weeks, my daughter recently became engaged and, this morning, the bridegroom is very much with us. Her name is Julie. His name is Jared. And we (her mother and I) are very much going to enjoy this wedding and everything leading up to it.
Speaking as one who (1600 weddings later) knows more about them than anybody except Martha Stewart, I am surprised by how many people don’t enjoy them….or steadfastly refuse to let themselves enjoy them. And Kris and I have no intention of joining those people. We are very much “with” the program. But, even if we weren’t, we would get with the program….not for the love of the program, but for the love of the people in the program.
I think love ought to be lifted up. I also think love ought to be honored, enjoyed, danced to, and even toasted. Which is why engagements, weddings, anniversaries, baptisms and birthdays are not only ceremonial, but celebrative. Three weeks ago, I did a wonderful 50th anniversary reconsecration right here in the chancel. The couple stood right over there. And the choir loft was filled with their kids….the spouses their kids married….and a slew of grandkids, as well. It was a nice setting, having all the guests in the choir loft. We didn’t put robes on them and make them sing. But they had great seats. And when my ceremony was finished, they took about 248,000 pictures.
Fifty years earlier (to the day), they ran off with a pair of friends. Leaving Syracuse University, they slipped over to a nearby town, where a kindly Methodist minister performed the nuptials. They didn’t need to do this because of a baby coming, but because of parents disapproving. Then they came back to school and told nobody. When Christmas came, they went to their respective homes, again telling nobody. Their strategy made sense at the time. But it didn’t feel right at the time. Not “right” as in “correct,” but “right” as in “complete.” So, fifty years later, we did it up right….the way it should have been done the first time around. All of which was followed by a big dinner at a nice restaurant. Which probably cost a bundle. But which, in another way, was priceless.
Every time I hear someone say “We can give you a wedding or we can give you a down payment on a house,” I understand the logic. But I cringe at the forced choice. Because, in a world where many of us have far too many things, some of us have far too few memories.
Just the other day, Bob Kupfer (Tim Robinson’s partner at Tiffany Florist) was talking about an older couple in his extended family who created a rather unusual trust as a part of their will. The purpose of the trust is to provide opportunities for their far-flung family to come together for special occasions….a dinner….a party….a vacation trip….a cruise. I don’t know how the language is drawn. But the intent intrigues me. Will it be difficult to pull off? Sure. Will there occasionally be family members who say: “Don’t want to go….don’t need to go….can’t make the time to go….so give me my share of the cost in cash”? Sure. But it’s worth the effort. I have watched and learned from several of you. And I know how much joy you derive….and how much good you do….providing such experiences for your families. It’s a rather admirable way of converting cash into closeness.
* * * * *
There is, to be sure, a “rainy day addendum” to our little text. To his critics, Jesus says: “The day will come when the bridegroom will be taken away. Then my friends will fast.” Is this an early suggestion of crucifixion? If so, did Jesus say it? Or did the early church add it? Frankly, nobody knows for sure. Least of all me.
But there is one thing I know. All of us live with a shadow hanging over us. Darkness. Death. Disease. Defeat. Discouragement. Disappointment. Even the post-celebratory resumption of ordinary life. Or, as I once said at a wedding, marriage is more about macaroni and cheese than it is about merlot and mignon. Which means that other days will call for other emotions….other responses….other behaviors.
Life will cloud up and rain on our parades. But does that mean we should never schedule any? Parades, I mean.
I have a friend who is fond of saying: “Any excuse for a party.” If I read this text correctly, being a Christian may be the best excuse of all.
