The song we have just sung, "Lord of the Dance," declares that the proper response on learning the meaning of the Gospel is to celebrate, to dance. This hymn is one of the less traditional hymns in our hymn book, written in the 1960's, which you may have guessed, when the Church began experimenting with new music. It was finally included in the 1988 hymnal.

It was written by an Englishman, a man named Sydney Carter, who put the words to the arrangement of the American Shaker hymn, "Tis a Gift to be Simple." The Shakers used to dance in their worship, so it is an appropriate setting.

I also chose it because it was requested that we sing it. I had not selected it for a long time, because the last time I did, it was requested that we never sing that hymn again. But I just want you to know that I pay attention to your requests. I don't always follow them, but I always pay attention to them. If a hymn fits the theme of the morning, then I will probably use it. And this hymn fits the gospel lesson for this morning, particularly the third verse: "I danced on the sabbath when I cured the lame, the holy people said it was a shame."

That's not great poetry. In fact it's not even good poetry, but it makes the point that Jesus' behavior was shameful in the eyes of what the hymn writer calls the "holy people." The holy people were those who believed that religion should be more like mourning, rather than dancing. Religion, they believed, is supposed to be about judgment and doom, rather than about joy and celebration. Or in the instance before us in the text, it is supposed to be about fasting, not about feasting.

This story comes in the second chapter of Mark. We are still at the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, as we move through it this year. In the first chapter, as those of you who have been here for the past month know, we have been making our way through the first chapter with back to back stories of Jesus' healings and his exorcisms, casting out demons. Which is there at the beginning to announce that the Messiah has come to defeat the evil powers of this world, the powers that control our lives and keep us from the fullness of life that God intended for each one of us in the creation.

So to call Jesus Messiah, according to Mark, means that he is the one who can release you from bondage, whatever holds you back from life. And this story which follows the healings announces that the proper response to this liberation is celebration. Let's look at it.

The story begins with the calling of Matthew, which will be his Christian name. He is introduced to us for the first time here as Levi, the son of Alphaeus. He is a tax collector. Which means that he was disreputable, because he worked for the Romans, and therefore an outcast in the Jewish community. He was shunned by the righteous and officially labeled unclean. That meant that he could not enter the Temple. It meant that good people, those who tried to live moral lives, would not associate with him, and especially would never eat with him.

Jesus not only associates with him, but he calls him to be a disciple. He not only calls him to be a disciple, but tells Matthew to gather all his tax collector friends together and he will eat with the whole bunch of them. As the text says, "As he sat at dinner at Levi's house, many tax collectors and sinners were also sitting with Jesus." The Pharisees were shocked. They asked, "Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?" Jesus overhears their comments, and answers, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous, but sinners."

The point of that little exchange is to tell you who gets into the Kingdom. The scribes and the Pharisees assumed that they could get into the Kingdom because they were the ones who had lived the kind of lives that ought to be rewarded. They expected to be recognized for their achievement, for the wonderfulness of their lives. They also expected God to punish the evil ones, the tax collectors and the sinners, for the kind of life that they lived.

But look who the Messiah eats with. The Messiah, when he came, was supposed to be at banquet with members of his Kingdom. So wherever Jesus eats, those are the people in his Kingdom. He eats with all kinds of people, indiscriminately. Which means, everyone has the opportunity of getting into the Kingdom. Or in language we would probably use, it means that everybody can get to heaven. Because we do not get there by our own efforts, we get there by grace.

Now let me quickly point out that Matthew left the tax collecting business, and became a disciple of Jesus. He repented of that life, and began to live the life that God wanted him to live. I believe that he gathered his tax collector friends together to meet Jesus because they also wanted to leave the life they were living, and live a better life. They wanted to leave a life of bondage, and to be freed for the fullness of life.

So a sub-text of this story is, the way you change people is not by condemning them and banishing them, but by including them, and forgiving them, and being gracious to them. That is part of what it means when he says, "I have come to call not the righteous, but sinners."

And it means something else, as well. If you do not feel joy in your faith, then maybe you are still trying to get into the Kingdom by your own efforts. So you haven't got the point yet. The point is, salvation is not something that you earn. It is not like "reinventing yourself," the phrase we use today. It is not like getting a "spiritual make-over." But it is something that is given to you. It's a gift. The only qualification for receiving it is to say, "I am not worthy." Only those who can say that are able to understand why the Christian faith is called "good news," and why the proper response to the good news is celebration.

I don't know if you have noticed that the concluding hymn of this service this morning is going to be, "Joy to the World." I can just hear someone saying, "Well Trotter has really slipped this time. He thinks it's Christmas. It's time for him to retire, I guess. Put him out to pasture." Well I say, why not sing "Joy to the World" in February, in Epiphany? In fact, why not sing it in August? It's words express the proper response to Jesus' coming into the world. He has come to free you from bondage, to forgive your sins, and to give you the gift of eternal life through his grace. You show me a church that thinks "Joy to the World" is appropriate only at Christmas, and I'll show you a church that still has not understood the Gospel.

There is a wonderful story of an American professor doing post-doctorate work in London some years ago. He attended the University Church of Christ the King in London. Sunday after Sunday as he worshiped, he was struck by the beauty of the music. Not only the singing of the choir, but also the singing of the congregation, especially from a cluster of people who sat near him in the back of the church.

One Sunday he asked the Chaplain who those people were. The Chaplain told him that they were members of the cast of Godspell, which was playing in London at the time. He said that many of those young people had had no acquaintance with the Christian faith before they got into the cast. But now, night after night, they sang the words from the Gospel, the words of Godspell. He said the words began working on them. They sought out a place where people cared about those words.

If you get the words, if you understand what is being said in the Gospel, the "Godspell," then you will want to sing.

In the next scene, the people who have seen all of this banqueting, who have heard the singing of joyful songs out of season, ask Jesus, "Why do John the Baptist's disciples and the Pharisees fast, and your disciples do not fast?" Jesus says, "The wedding guests cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them."

That is to say, the party has started. A new age is here. A new way of living in this world is here, by the gift of God's grace. You don't put new wine in old wine skins, he says. And you don't put a new patch on an old garment, because the Kingdom is here. A whole new way of living in this world, living by grace and using the power that God's gives us through grace to live the lives that we want to live, has happened. The party has started.

Except there is a hitch here. The text includes this line. "The days will come, when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then in that day they will fast." It's just like the Bible to complicate matters for a preacher, mess up a perfectly good sermon. I was just sailing smoothly through this sermon, talking about joy and putting down fasting, then I come to the text that says, "The days will come, when the bridegroom is taken away, and they will fast." Which means now we have to say, "On the other hand..." You aren't supposed to do that in sermons. You aren't supposed to say, "On the one hand...," and then say, "But on the other hand..." But there it is. "When I'm not with them, the Church will fast."

Of course the Church did take up the fast after Jesus left, just like the disciples of John the Baptist, and the Pharisees. Why did they do that? I suppose they did it because they decided it would be something good and healthy for them in their spiritual life. Of course later, we know, fasting was made a discipline of Lent, and was supposed to enrich your observance of the Lenten season as you prepare for Easter.

One Lent I decided to try it myself. I had read an article about all the good things that can happen to you if you fast. It will clean out your system. It will clear your mind. It will focus your spiritual life. So I thought, I'll try it. I had a plan worked out. I would start on Wednesday of Holy Week, go through Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday, the nadir of the holy season, the time of sorrow for the suffering of Jesus. Then I would be ready, spiritually awakened, for the joy of Easter.

So on Maundy Thursday I didn't eat anything. I just drank water all day long. The only problem was, I had to preach on Maundy Thursday night. Which I did. About half way through my sermon I realized I didn't know what I was saying. I had this feeling that I was repeating myself, and I feared I wasn't making any sense at all. Someone out there I know is saying, "So, what else is new." But I tell you, I felt disembodied. I felt like Lindbergh flying across the Atlantic, that I was floating above myself. After the service I went home and ordered a pizza.

So I gave up fasting. But the Church never did. It still recommends it, in fact, for those who want to sharpen their spiritual life. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, listed fasting as one of the means of grace. But the point should be made, fasting, denial, spiritual disciplines even, are not the heart of the Christian faith. Joy is the heart of the Christian faith. Fasting is permissible, but it is not the center. Joy is the center, because the Lord has come. And with his coming, the time of waiting for good things to happen in our life is over, and the time of becoming who God created us to be, using the power of God's grace, has come.

Most of us need to hear that. My experience is that a lot of Christians still don't understand that. It's too bad that there isn't a church called, "The Disciples of John the Baptist," because they would be much more comfortable in that church. In the Church of John the Baptist you would be organized to do chores, make preparations, keep busy, try to make everything perfect, including trying to make other people perfect, for the coming of Christ. The Church of the Disciples of John the Baptist is a religion of preparation. The Church of Jesus Christ is a religion of fulfillment.

"How come your disciples don't fast, like the disciples of John the
Baptist?"

"Because the bridegroom is here, and now is the time for celebration."

A few years ago there was a wonderful movie that could have been a commentary of this text. It was called, Babette's Feast. Babette is a French woman who escapes from some unspecified danger in France, and goes to Denmark. She happens on a religious community in the isolated, desolate part of Denmark called the Jutland. There is a religious community there made up of people whom the "Lord of the Dance" would call the "holy people." People who had moved away from the city to get away from the temptations of this world.

The founder of the community has died, as the story takes place. His two daughters carry on the work, and hold the community together, continuing to live in the main house, the house that their father lived in. Both daughters have denied themselves in order to give their lives to this mission. One denied herself a singing career, the other denied herself a marriage.

Into this dismal scene comes Babette, the French woman. The two sisters hire her as a cook and a housemaid. In time Babette receives a large amount of cash from France. She wants to share it with this community, and to share it in the way she can do best, and that is to prepare them a French meal. The sisters immediately say "no." Because to enjoy food is to be distracted from the spiritual life. But Babette insists. Finally the sisters relent.

The whole community is invited. The community has dwindled down to about twelve people. The invitation goes out, "Come to the feast." All twelve of them come. But they resolve that though they will eat the meal, they won't enjoy it, because it is not spiritual to enjoy the things of this world.

But the meal is irresistibly enjoyable. You sit there in the theater, watch them prepare and serve this meal, you want to get up there yourself. And the guest do enjoy it, but they can't admit it. Their reasoning is if they don't say anything about it, then they are not enjoying the feeling of it.

But during the course of the meal, a transformation takes place among these twelve people. Feuds that had endured for years get settled. Wrongs that had been harbored for years are forgiven. Hearts that had been saddened are uplifted. Spirits that had been dampened by obligation are freed. All because they partake of a meal that was prepared for them as a act of grace, freely given. No obligation. Just to enjoy. Given to them out of love.

There is a general at the meal. He is visiting his aunt, who is a member of the community. The aunt brings him to the dinner. While the others are resolved not to say anything about the meal, he is most eloquent about it. There are about ten courses to this meal. After each one, he says something wonderful about what they have just eaten. At the end he makes a speech.

We have all of us been told that grace is to be found in the universe. But in our human foolishness and shortsightedness, we imagine grace to be finite. For this reason we tremble before making our choice in life, and after having made it, again tremble in fear of having chosen wrong.

But the moment comes when our eyes are opened, and we see and realize that grace is infinite. Grace, my friends, demands nothing from us, but that we shall await it with confidence, and acknowledge it in gratitude.

"Why do John the Baptist's disciples and the Pharisees fast, and your disciples don't fast?"

Because there comes the moment when our eyes are opened, and we can see and realize that grace is infinite. It's everywhere. Grace, my friends, demands nothing from us, but that we shall await it with confidence, and acknowledge it in gratitude.