Sermon for Easter Day, March 27, 2016, "Planning for Rhythms of Joy"

C Easter Day (OL) BFC 2016

Luke 14:8-14; Luke 24:1-12

March 27, 2016

          Will Ferrell, former Saturday Night Live cast member, is one of my favorite actors.  “Talladega Nights:  The Legend of Ricky Bobby” is a classic.  I still laugh thinking of the baby Jesus scene.  As my family will tell you, I gravitate to any move in which Will Farrell stars.  I know.  I’m shallow.

So it is with the movie “Wedding Crashers” where Farrell stars as the ultimate wedding crasher, Chazz.  “Wedding Crashers” begins with two guys, John Beckwith and Jeremy Grey, who consider wedding season, open season.  As uninvited guests to both ceremony and celebration, John and Jeremy crash expensive weddings where they blend in by telling canned stories, eating too much food, drinking too much champagne, and seeking out women for one-night stands.  For the stereotypical male ego and libido, crashing weddings looked like a blast.  But the story begins to turn when John finds all of this gluttonous feasting and superficial relationship to be, well, to be rather empty.

I believe, of course, one of the more humorous moments to be when John goes to the home of the person they know to be the all-time wedding crasher, Chazz, played by Will Ferrell.  And John is just a little intrigued and disturbed by what he finds.  Chazz has now moved on to funerals as his place to pick up vulnerable and available women.

John also witnesses Chazz’s home arrangement.  Chazz cannot seem to remove himself from his bathrobe and couch, watching cartoons, his mother yelling at him to get rid of his skateboard in the middle of the living room.  In a word, Chazz appears to be an adolescent loser.   “Mom!  Meatloaf!”  Everything Chazz does seems to be wrapped up in a self-serving, short-sighted rhythm of temporary pleasure and superficial joy.

          “Wedding Crashers” is a caricature of a rhythm we know is out there in the world.  Rabbi Sharon Brous refers to these shallow and short-sighted rhythms as “shiny object syndrome.”[1]  And the long history of the Judeo-Christian liturgical year is meant to be an alternative rhythm to self-serving, shallow, and short-sighted rhythms such as these. 

The liturgical season we just came through, Lent, is one of those rhythms we practice to remind us that we can, in solidarity with God and with others, suspend our want and need for temporary pleasure for deeper and wider rhythms.  If Lent were music, it would be the blues.  The blues know the catastrophic, the real terror in the world, and respond to it with compassion.  The blues know pain but do not respond to it with bitterness.  The blues do not seek revenge but justice.  The blues seek an end to slavery and persecution to yearn and call for freedom and shalom for all.[2]  Because, as all the liturgical rhythms remind us, we do not practice our faith alone.

It is as Gertrude “Ma” Rainey said,

The blues help you get out of bed in the morning.  You get up knowing you ain’t alone.  There’s something else in the world.  Something’s been added by that song.  This be an empty world without the blues.  I take that emptiness and try to fill it up with something. [3]

Too often, however, the dominant form of Christianity in our country has sought to remove Lenten rhythms from our spirituality.  We want never-ending praise choruses coupled with false patriotism.  We want to feel good and comfortable.  We want only good news, no matter what the reality.  Too often, Rev. Otis Moss III relates, Christianity in our country loses a certain depth as it seeks to avoid any relationship with the blues.  We are found “in the clamor for material blessings, [seeking] success without work, prayer without public concern, and preaching without burdens.”[4]  And to do so, loses part of our ancient story and tradition. 

Because we practice these Lenten on into Holy Week (slide) rhythms knowing that life is hard and even harder for others.  We should acknowledge the pain of loss, divorce, abuse, separation, and war in the world.  We want to be conscious of the hurting folk in the world.  Through Lent, we even choose to recognize that there may be times when we have to deprive ourselves for the greater good of ourselves, our family, our community, and our world. 

          On a personal level, we hope our young people get these ancient rhythms so that they hold off on the temporary pleasure, the peer pressure, and the quick hit to choose something that keeps their life profoundly open to a quality and a depth of life, to deeper and longer rhythms they cannot possibly know at such a young age.  On a wider level, we hope that our love of profit, and more and more, and new and improved, and to be entertained and to be entertained will not destroy God’s good earth, our interwoven connection and communities, and our political and government system.   

But it’s not looking good.  Rabbi Brous quotes New York Times columnist Gail Collins to say, “for the first time we see on the stage in national presidential debates what can only be termed as mean girl fight in the bathroom of a middle school.”[5]  And, Rabbi Brous says, “And I don’t think that gives enough credit to our middle school girls.”  So little interest in advancing the welfare of the people of our country.  Rabbi Brous said that if she had gotten a call from a middle school principal saying that one of her children had behaved in the way these presidential candidates had done on a national stage, she would take away their iPad . . . for a month . . . at least.[6]   We are addicted to shiny object syndrome.  And the deeper rhythm of Lent is the antidote to shiny object syndrome.

I was not good at the spirit of my Lenten practice even though I did follow through on the letter of the law.  My 40 days of Daniel-fasting felt like crawling through the desert the last week just to find something to eat.  How sad it was that I could look into a relatively full pantry and a relatively full refrigerator and proclaim, “There’s nothing to eat.”  And what an untrue, ridiculous, whiny statement that is in the midst of so much abundance and excess.   Even in the midst of all my whiny, “poor me” narrative, I learned quite a bit about myself and the things I require for faithful spiritual practice. 

          Here is what I think I learned.  First, I cuss much more when I think I’m being deprived.  Bre and Kim got to hear that way too often.  Maybe that was not a good learning?  Second, I would not have made it without Tracy preparing meals that were thoughtful of my fast and Rev. Stacey Siebrasse, my closest colleague, walking the road with me and all of you holding me accountable. 

I may be a spiritual wimp, but I wanted this congregation to think there is an ounce of spiritual fortitude in me.  I am only able to do this pastor gig because I believe God is less concerned about my wins and losses and more about my willingness to take risks, to step out and try, to explore the wilderness with God.  Our proficiency is not required.  Our tentative, curious, sometimes scared-out-of-our mind steps into the wilderness are required—the wilderness where we all whine and complain, sing the blues, about being in a new place.

The other things I learned.   Coupling this spiritual practice of fast with my spiritual practice of study pushed me to practice with integrity.  Finally, there is no question that this spiritual practice made me much more aware of the poor.  When people come into my office these days with very little energy and initiative, I hope I am more understanding.  Because just not being able to pop a protein bar or grab a snack, left me feeling pretty tired some days. 

          I live in the midst of affluence.  So when the Bible talks about the dream of God as some wedding feast to which we are all welcome, I am a little bit unaware of what joy that might mean for people who wonder whether God intends daily bread for them.  In putting together her cookbook, Extending the Table, Joetta Handrach-Schlabach wrote,

When affluence allows people to feast too frequently and independently of others, feasting loses much of its joy and integrity. It results in ill health and dulls our sensitivity to the needs of others. Reclaiming the feast may require learning to fast. Regularly abstaining from meat and other rich foods can be a spiritual act of solidarity. Reserving for special events foods we might easily afford, but that are luxury items in the world economy, unites us with those who have less.[7]

I hope that is what I will find—that I can reclaim a sense of divine feasting.  All I know now is that I could sure use some feasting on chocolate and cheese pizza. 

          I was certainly glad that some of you joined me in this spiritual practice of fasting, of being more attentive to the food we eat and how it makes a difference in our lives.  Because it means so much more to celebrate on Easter Day knowing that many of you walked the hard road of Lent with me. 

          With this Easter Day, however, Lent is over!  Glory, hallelujah, my “grueling” 40 day Daniel Fast is over!

It is one of the blessings of the Christian liturgical year.  We get used to certain rhythms within that church year so that we might live life more intentionally and fully.   Let the feasting begin! 

          Today, this day, this day is a day that begins a new rhythm.  The blues gives way to hard-earned alleluias.  Lent brings depth and texture and soul to the celebration of Easter.  As my great colleague, Rev. Stacey Siebrasse, reminded us in the Gazette yesterday, the very thing the angels said upon Jesus’ birth is said by the angels as those courageous women who go to the tomb to honor the blues.  “Do not be afraid.”  Even as we grieve, are told to translate our grief into fear by all the media and political candidates, the injunction to not be afraid is said over 20 times in the gospels.[8]  New things are being accomplished.  New life is happening.  Do not assume that any signs of new life are somehow contrary to the plan and project of God. 

We sometimes do a great job of planning and plotting our lives with intentionality as we live in the wilderness.  But some of us are forced to or some of us choose to live in the wilderness, when God would want us to experience rhythms of new life and profound joy.  We become bean counters of our grief and sadness, our wilderness experience—rats, no cheese on my bean and rice tacos.  Too often, joy we expect to be spontaneous, unexpected, or a surprise we did not help create.   Yes, there may be times that even when we plan, scheme, plot, and use our best intentions for joy . . . it does not happen.  But the best bet is that the more often we plan and prepare with God to make joy a rhythm in our lives, the more often it will come our way.

          The liturgical movement and rhythm of Easter and Christ’s resurrection are God’s full intent, even after so much suffering and death through Lent and Holy Week, for our joy.  God intends our joy.  We, as individuals and as a congregation, need to plan for that, scheme for that, plot for it, use our best intentions to convey God’s will and want for that in our lives.  It should not be a one-time thing.  Easter reminds us that it is a season, a rhythm, that gets into our bloodstream and requires our participation and expression.  While Lent is characterized by the blues, the music of Easter is the form of celebration music that wants you to sing along, almost involuntarily have you tapping your toes, and your whole body beginning to move with the whole community gathered moving ‘round you.

          In thinking about an example I might share with you that conveys unbridled joy, I turned to an oft-watched youtube video I will go to just to make my day.  I smile through it.  I find myself crying during it.  It was such a hit that the bride and the groom appeared on the Today show.  It is of a wedding entrance march back in 2009 in St. Paul, Minnesota.

The artist who wrote the music for it, Chris Brown, became known for abusing his partners.  So the bride and groom, in their maturity, set up a fund to go an organization working with women who have experienced domestic violence.  As of 2014, the fund had raised $50,000.  Other fundraising has gone to help immigrants and refugees through the Immigrant Law Center of Minnesota.   Jill Peterson, the bride and the one who dreamt up this celebration, said, “I danced growing up,” adding, she “loved dance as a way to express yourself and share joy.”[9]  My point is, this was something that may seem off the beaten path, but it was planned and worked on and thought about.  I remember thinking to myself, the first time I saw it, “This required some preparation and planning.”  And, as you will hear at the end of the video, the whole congregation, in celebration of a big day, erupts in applause and joy.  Here are some of the lyrics to the song, “Forever” by Chris Brown: 

It's you and me
Moving at the speed of light into eternity,
Tonight is the night to join me in the middle of ecstasy.
Feel the melody in the rhythm of the music around you, around you
I’m going to take you there,
So don't be scared
I'm right here, baby
We can go anywhere, go anywhere
But first it's your chance,
Take my hand, come with me

[Chorus:]
It's like I've waited my whole life for this one night
It's going to be me you and the dance floor

This may not be your cup of tea.  But just for a moment, as Eminem might say, “You better lose yourself in the music.”

          Show video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-94JhLEiN0. 

Ah, white people dancing.  Always fun.   I imagine that Jill and Kevin’s big day had to do with a community of people who knew Jill and Kevin and the individual journeys they had been on to see this as a beautiful, joyous day.  As they made their way down the aisle, you could even see Kevin’s probably 80-something year old grandmother, up on her feet, clapping to Chris Brown.  She would not be left out. 

          The season and rhythm of Lent now ends in Easter morn.  Day breaks, the eternal night comes to an end.  And we may be surprised and amazed to find that God will not allow people who have been trying, taking risks, stepping out into the wilderness with tentative steps to believe that all of life is  suffering, slavery, wandering in the wilderness, and death.  On the contrary, the rhythm of Easter and resurrection remind us that God has been intending joy all along, in ways that we could not possibly imagine.    Now it is time as individuals, as a people, to pick up the beat, hum the tune, and join God at the wedding feast to plan, prepare, scheme, and intend a wonderfully deep and long-lasting rhythm of joy.  God intends . . . joy and sometimes chocolate and cheese pizza or a good dance tune and the Hallelujah Chorus.  So . . . we best be getting at it.  Christ is risen, dear friends.  He is risen indeed.   Do not be afraid.  Amen. 

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[1] Rabbi Sharon Brous, “Beware the Shiny Object,” IKAR sermons, February 27, 2016, https://www.ikar-la.org/podcast20160217/.

[2] Cornel West, “Cornel West’s Catastrophic Love,” bigthink, http://bigthink.com/videos/cornel-wests-catastrophic-love. 

[3] Rev. Otis Moss III, “The Blue Note Gospel,” Sojourners, February 2016, p. 28.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid, referencing Gail Collins, “Trump Meets the Mean Boys,” New York Times, February 26, 2016, http://www.nytimes.com/2016/02/27/opinion/trump-meets-the-mean-boys.html?_r=0.

[6] Brous, “Beware the Shiny Object.”

[7] Carey Burkett, “Balancing Feast and Fast,” Sojourners, February-March 1994, https://sojo.net/magazine/february-march-1994/balancing-feast-and-fast#sthash.rqetoCuR.dpuf. 

[8][8] Rev. Stacey Siebrasse, “Resurrection, restoration, mark the Easter season,” Billings Gazette, March 26, 2016, p. D-1.

[9] Lulu Chang, “Are The "JK Wedding Entrance Dance" Duo Still Together? They're "Forever" A Power Couple,” BUSTLE, August 28, 2014, http://www.bustle.com/articles/37502-are-the-jk-wedding-entrance-dance-duo-still-together-theyre-forever-a-power-couple.