If you were
asked to choose one piece of art that represents Christianity, what would it
be? That’s a hard question, isn’t it? How do you pin down our faith to only one
piece of art? Some people might choose Rodin’s sculpture “The Thinker”: the
seated figure who is deep in thought. And we do ponder our faith quite a bit.
But my guess is that a seminary professor or a clergy person would choose “The
Thinker” to represent Christianity. The rest of us… not so much. Other people
would choose a photograph of hands: hands reaching out in welcome, hands
clasped in friendship, hands serving food or bandaging wounds or building
adequate housing. Helping hands. That’s what the essence of Christianity is for
many of us. But I’m afraid that for too many people, the Christian faith would
be represented by Grant Wood’s painting “American Gothic.” You know that
picture even if you don’t recognize its name. It features an older couple
standing in front of a farmhouse. The man, who is holding a pitchfork, stares
straight ahead; while the woman’s eyes look to the side as if anticipating
troubles approaching from that direction. They are dressed plainly in dark
colors; and the woman’s hair is pulled back into a bun. Their faces are as joyless
and severe as ours are when we are in the midst of preparing a income tax
return. Life for that couple is something not to be celebrated, but to be
endured.
Isn’t that
what many people think that is what Christianity us? They understand it to be
joyless and severe, made up of “don’t and duty,” just like the couple in
“American Gothic.” You know what some of those rules are! “Don’t enjoy life,”
because it’s our duty to suffer because Jesus suffered. “Don’t look for pleasure,”
because it’s our duty to focus on life’s problems. And for heaven’s sake, “Don’t
do anything that might bring you joy!” Don’t dance, don’t play cards, and don’t
eat rich foods. After all, it’s our duty to avoid any distractions that might
put our immortal souls in peril! One of my close friends grew up in the Dutch
Reformed tradition. His parents were very strict about what their faith allowed
them to do – and what that faith didn’t allow.
On Sundays, for example, he was permitted to read the Bible and only the Bible! Nothing else was allowed.
No games, no play with friends, no secular amusements of any kind. Sunday
wasn’t a day of joy; it was a day of “don’t and duty.”
Can anyone
explain to me how Sunday – the day that is supposed to be a joyful celebration
of the resurrection of our Lord – was changed into a day of “don’t and duty”? Christianity
is, after all, a faith with joy as its foundation. Yes, we go through Good
Friday; and yes, there is a cross in the front of our sanctuary; but Jesus isn’t
on that cross anymore! Jesus is risen! We keep right on going through the pain
and the sorrow and the grief of Good Friday until we get to Easter morning,
when we laugh in joy and the world laughs with us! But that joy is a scandal to
many people. Some of you may remember a picture from the mid-70s that was
titled “The Laughing Christ.” In that drawing, Jesus’ head is thrown back and
his face is full of laughter, mouth wide open and eyes crinkled in joy. It
appealed to many folks who rejected the Christianity of “don’t and duty,” but
it offended many more. “How could anyone draw a picture like that?” they asked.
“Jesus never laughed! He was serious!” Gosh, I hope that they’re wrong.
Now, it’s
true that Jesus never told a joke that started, “A rabbi, a priest, and a
minister walk into a bar.” In fact, Jesus never told any jokes. But Jesus gave us some memorable images. For example,
Jesus said that it would be harder for a rich man to get into God’s kingdom,
than it was for a camel to get through the eye of a needle. Now, whether that
needle’s eye refers to a literal sewing needle, or to the little tiny gate that
leads into the ancient city of Jerusalem, the image of a camel trying to
squeeze through it is fairly amusing. (At least, I think it is!) I cannot believe
that Jesus didn’t enjoy a chuckle or two, and expected us to do the same. After
all, Jesus told us that he came so that we might have life in abundance!
Now, don’t
misunderstand me. Christianity acknowledges the brokenness in the world. Many situations
in our lives are simply not joyful. We are forced to deal with an illness (our
own or that of a loved one). We lose our employment; or the weather is bad and
the crops don’t grow; and our checkbooks get thin. A cherished relationship is
fractured beyond repair. These situations and many others like them are
certainly not cause for joy. They are cause for grief; and Christians know
that! But Christians also know that joy gets the last word. After Good Friday,
Easter morning rolls around.
Right now,
we Christians are in a season of joy; and if we lived in New Orleans or Mobile,
Alabama, or Rio de Janeiro, we wouldn’t be able to escape it. In all those
places, the Carnival season is underway right now. The celebration of Carnival
begins on Epiphany (January 6), the traditional day that the Wise Men visited
the child Jesus; and it ends at midnight on Shrove Tuesday, the day before Ash
Wednesday. You know Carnival better as Mardi Gras. Mardi Gras isn’t just a day
(although “Mardi Gras” means “Fat Tuesday” and is another name for Shrove
Tuesday). Mardi Gras is a season, a season of joy and celebration – the season
when Jesus is proclaimed to be the long-awaited Messiah, the savior of the
whole world. Now, you may not be comfortable with some of the particular
customs of Mardi Gras (particularly those that take place in the French Quarter
of New Orleans); but at its foundation, Mardi Gras is the celebration of joy
that precedes the more subdued season of Lent. Joy… sorrow… joy… sorrow. That’s
what life is, isn’t it? It’s an eternal cycle of joy followed by sorrow
followed by joy.
Now is the
time for joy! Lent will come soon enough; and when it does, we will lift our
eyes to the cross and admit that when God’s messiah arrived, we didn’t want
anything to do with him. Greed was more important to us than generosity;
selfishness was more powerful than compassion; and hate knocked out love with a
left hook. Good Friday will loom ominously on the horizon. But right now… right now… it is the time for joy. We’ll
have our own little Mardi Gras celebration after worship next week; and I hope
that you choose to stay for the festivities. But even if you can’t eat lunch
and join in the games next week, I hope that you join in the spirit of Mardi
Gras wherever you are and whatever you’re doing. Now is the time for joy; and a
reminder that, no matter what happens to us during the rest of our lives, the
joy of Easter morning gets the last word!
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