I
have often wondered what our poor Puritan forebears made of the fact
that
Jesus’ first miracle involved a copious production of alcohol.
The
scene is a wedding feast in a Palestinian village. The feast following
the
wedding was a major undertaking. It occurred over several days as the
bride and
groom kept open house. They both wore crowns, were addressed as king
and queen
and they welcomed, hosted and fed family, friends and village neighbors
for up
to a week. The family of the groom would have scraped and saved over a
long
period of time to afford this most important event.
In
a peasant village – where there was much poverty and hard work – these
days of
festivity, of food, drink and dancing, were among the supreme
occasions.
Hospitality in the East was a sacred duty … and for such a feast wine
was essential.
“Without wine,” say the Rabbis, “there is no joy.”
So
the fact that the wine had run out at this particular wedding feast was
nothing
short of catastrophe. If news of this had leaked out, the feast would
have come
to an abrupt halt. The dancing would have stopped, the music ended, the
revelers dispersed. It would have been a terrible humiliation for the
bride and
groom and for their families.
Mary,
who seems to have had some responsibility for the feast, whispers to
Jesus,
“The wine is run out!” Jesus steps forward as the master of the revels
and produces
what is needed. No, that is not quite right … Jesus does not produce
what is
needed … he produces far more than is needed … an extravagant quantity.
He
over-produces. He produces more wine than could possible be drunk and
better
than what anyone had expected. Into a world of scarcity and punishingly
hard
work, Jesus introduces abundance, joy and fellowship.
To
follow this Jesus is to discover what we can scarcely believe: that
life lived
in the presence of God is more joy than obligation.
I
am going to say that again because I know you well enough to know that
you can
scarcely believe it. You great grandchildren of the Puritans, you New
England
Yankees, hear this and heed it if you can (if you dare): life lived in
the
presence of God is more joy than obligation.
It
is wonderful serendipity that the anniversary of the birthday of Martin
Luther
King, Jr, falls on the same day we celebrate Jesus’ first miracle at
this
wedding. Why? Because Martin Luther King, Jr. was a person of deep and
abiding
joy … Christian joy … joy that no circumstance – not racism or poverty
or
humiliation – could take from him. Those who knew Dr. King remember a
laughter
that was “deep and welled up from the tips of his toes and exploded
from his
lips.” “He loved a good time and he loved food, soul food: red beans
and rice,
greens and ham hocks and pigs’ feet. He loved a good party and he loved
to
laugh.”
He also loved to dance and sing.
It has
been said of the entire civil rights movement that it was carried along
by song
… that it was borne on the wings of song. In the midst of the daily deprivation and
indignities suffered by southern blacks, and of
segregationist violence and harassment of civil rights workers and
marchers, in
the midst of threats and intimidation, they sang: spirituals, freedom
songs,
labor songs, protest songs, and gospel songs. They sang, and as they
sang, they
knew a joy that no one could take from them.
As
he addressed the most serious and painful matters of the nation –
issues of
poverty, discrimination, racism, war and violence – Dr. King hosted
parties
that broke out spontaneously in the streets of Selma and Montgomery, in
jails
packed with protesters, and on the Mall in Washington.
And,
talk about joy, on the last night of his life, in his last public
speech, Dr. King
told a euphoric crowd that despite increased threats to his life, he
was happy.
“It
really doesn't matter what happens now.... I've looked over, and I've
seen the
Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know
tonight,
that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land. And so I'm happy
tonight.
I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have
seen
the Glory of the coming of the Lord!”
Dr. King was assassinated the following day.
Jesus
threw parties and Martin Luther King danced and laughed and exuded joy
… not
because all is well with the world. Far be it. No, they threw parties,
danced,
and laughed to relieve the pain, to defy the cynics, to create
community, and to
witness to the way of God in a god-forsaken world: the way of
generosity, grace
and joy.
Surely,
it was in no small measure because of their joy that Jesus and Dr. King
achieved so much, swayed so many hearts, provided inspiration and
courage for a
long, hard struggle.
I
hope you will forgive us then for celebrating today. We have no
misconceived
notions that the work Dr. King put into motion has been achieved. There
are few
laurels to rest on and an enormous task before us until justice and
peace are
achieved. We all know that. But every once in a while it is good for
the soul,
good for the movement to pause and celebrate.
Today,
as we celebrate Dr. King’s birthday, I want to end by sharing another
birthday
story.
Tony
Campolo who is a professor of sociology and an evangelical Christian
tells the
story of his visit to Honolulu
for a Christian Conference.
On his first night there, he awoke sometime after three a.m. (a six
hour time
difference had confused his sleep pattern). Unable to get back to
sleep, he
left the hotel in search of a place to get something to eat. Eventually
he
found a tiny coffee shop. He entered, sat at the counter, and ordered
coffee
and a donut.
He
was the only customer until quite suddenly, the coffee shop began to
fill with
women. Some sat at small tables, others at the counter near Tony. From
their
conversation he learned an astonishing amount about Honolulu's night life, for the women
were
discussing their night's work and their male clients. These were women
of the
night.
Sitting
next to him at the counter, one of the women declared: "Tomorrow's my
birthday. I'm going to be thirty-nine."
Her
friend responded in a nasty tone, "So what do you want from me? A
birthday
party? Ya want me to get you a cake and sing 'Happy Birthday?'"
"Come
on!" said the woman sitting next to Tony. "Why do you have to be so
mean? I was just telling you, that's all. Why do you have to put me
down? I was
just telling you it was my birthday. I don't want anything from you.
I've never
had a birthday party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?"
When
Tony heard that, he made a decision. He sat and waited until the women
had
left. Then he called over the guy behind the counter (his name was
Harry) and
he asked him, "Do they come in here every night?”
"Yeah!"
Harry answered.
"The
one right next to me, does she come here every night?"
"Yeah,"
Harry said. "That's Agnes. She comes in here every night. Why?"
"Because
I heard her say that tomorrow is her birthday," Tony told him. "What
do you say you and I do something about that? What do you think about
us
throwing a birthday party for her right here tomorrow night?"
A
smile crossed Harry’s cheeks and he agreed.
Tony
said he would be back the next morning at about 2:30 a.m. to decorate
the place
and Harry, agreed to make a cake.
At
2:30 the next morning, Tony Campolo was back at the diner. He had
picked up
some crepe-paper decorations and had made a sign out of big pieces of
cardboard
that read, "Happy Birthday, Agnes!" He decorated the diner from one
end to the other.
Harry
who was baking the cake must have gotten the word out on the street,
because by
3:15 every prostitute in Honolulu
was in the place. It was wall-to-wall prostitutes.
At
3:30 on the dot, the door of the diner swung open and in came Agnes and
her
friend. Tony had everybody ready and when Agnes came in they all
screamed,
"Happy birthday!"
Agnes
was flabbergasted...stunned...shaken. Her mouth fell open. Her legs
seemed to
buckle a bit. Her friend grabbed her arm to steady her. As she was led
to sit
on one of the stools along the counter everyone in the dinner sang
"Happy
Birthday" to her. As they came to the end of their singing with
"happy birthday dear Agnes, happy birthday to you," her eyes
moistened. When the birthday cake with all the candles on it was
carried out,
she lost it and just openly cried.
Harry
gruffly mumbled, "Blow out the candles, Agnes! Come on! Blow out the
candles! If you don't blow out the candles, I'm gonna hafta blow out
the
candles." Agnes never moved. After an endless few seconds, Harry blew
out
the candles. Then he handed her a knife and told her, "Cut the cake,
Agnes. Yo, Agnes, we all want some cake.”
Agnes
looked down at the cake. Then without taking her eyes off it, she
slowly and
softly said, "Look Harry, is it all right with you if I... I mean ...is
it
OK if keep the cake a little while? I mean is it all right if we don't
eat it
right away?"
Harry
shrugged and answered, "Sure! It's O.K …
keep the cake. Take it home if you want to."
"Can
I?" she asked. Then looking at Tony she said, "I live just down the
street a couple of doors. I want to take the cake home, OK? I'll be
right back.
Honest!"
Agnes
got off the stool, picked up the cake, and, carrying it like it was the
Holy
Grail walked slowly toward the door.
Everyone
in that diner stood there motionless. When the door closed behind Agnes
there
was a stunned silence in the place. Not knowing what else to do, and
being an evangelical
Christian, Tony eventually broke the silence by saying, "Shall we
pray?”
In
a diner in Honolulu
at 3:30 in the morning, surrounded by prostitutes Tony prayed for
Agnes. He
prayed for her salvation. He prayed that her life would be changed and
that God
would be good to her. When Tony finished, Harry leaned over the counter
and
with a trace of hostility in his voice, he asked, "What kind of church
do
you belong to?"
Tony
answered him: "I belong to the kind of church that throws birthday
parties
for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning."
Surely,
this is just the sort of Church that Jesus would delight in: a church
that
throws birthday parties for prostitutes … a church that sings and
dances and
marches in the face of oppression and brutal opposition … a church that
understands the power and the promise of collective joy.
Jesus,
Master of the Revels and Lord of the Dance, gives witness to this
reality: that
life lived in the presence of God is more joy than obligation.
Welcome
to the Kingdom
of God! Welcome
to the
party! Welcome to the dance!
