Let's Get Serious about Joyful Occasions
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In the fifties, when I played high school and college basketball, I occasionally pulled off a sensational pass or shot. Crowds would cheer. But I, the momentary hero, was constrained by stunted ideas of modesty. I exhibited no joy. No smile, no exchange of high fives or low fives, no happiness, no fist in the air. Just a straight face, a business-as-usual, back-to-work, this-is-serious demeanor. In my catalog, ‘exulting’ approached pride and was certainly a deadly fault.
Today, expressions of joy and satisfaction abound in the arena of sports. Handstands, high fives, body hugs, ball spiking, prancing, and dancing provide a hilarious creative ritual following touchdowns and goals in football and soccer. Some teams, however, now ban such demonstrations. They claim they take too much time and easily spill over into taunting the opposition.
Early in life, a celebration-inhibiting message infiltrated my brain. It said, “Do not make a big deal of your accomplishments.” The ramifications of this creed were that one did not talk about successes, and if one did say anything, it should be only with dispassionate brevity. Overstepping these folkways meant receiving a light, verbal-slap warning, “Now don’t get a big head.” Celebrating victory was a dangerous activity in which one flirted with despicable arrogance. Humility, “the godly virtue”, required subduing nearly all happy dances connected with achievements.
One perennial festival most people enjoy is academic graduation. My own graduation ceremonies were less than joyous events. They were unforgettable events, but they were not the kind one usually wants to remember. Only the passing decades have moved these memories from disappointments to comedies.
I was motherless at the end of my high school career. Lacking a mother’s guidance, I showed up at the church for the commencement ceremony with my robe still tightly, but handily, packed inside the paper wrapper it had arrived in. To my horror, and the shocked gasps of my classmates when I opened the package, the robe emerged as a totally wrinkled crunch of synthetic cloth. I had no choice but to wear it. That’s the kind of thing mothers know about—the robe needed to be ironed before wearing it. I blushed then; I laugh now.
College graduation was another landmark embarrassment. This grand occasion was held in the expansive Civic Auditorium in Grand Rapids, Michigan, with a massive crowd of families and friends in attendance. The mistress of ceremonies directed us to walk in, two by two. The pairing occurred randomly as two single lines coming from opposite directions merged at the rear of the hall. Fate was unkind to me. I found myself, a skinny, 6’6”, 179-pound geek, side by side with the most petite 4’11” woman in the class. As we slowly strolled, it dawned on me that the ripple of giggles and laughter running through the crowd was about us. A tide of warm, red self-consciousness surged through my entire upper body as I slunk to my seat. Subsequent graduations—my own and others—nearly always churned up some uneasy feelings dating, no doubt, from these events of old. Contaminated with embarassment, these celebrations remained a chore for a long time. Now, fortunately, they finally trigger great chuckles.
Graduations were not my only problem. Birthdays, anniversaries, Father’s Day, Valentine’s Day, and most of the other special days, with the exception of Christmas, have for unknown reasons loomed as burdensome necessities rather than exciting events.
The point of sharing these ‘horrors’ in my past is to tell you I’ve changed my mind. I’ve finally realized life needs more celebration, and celebrating is fully as important as hard work. I’m certain the Lord gets bored with all our somber industriousness and He dances joyfully with us when we dance.
Remember the wedding in Cana that Jesus attended? He joined in with energetic concern for the success of the party, rather than spending the day teaching or healing. Clearly, the celebration of special events is consistent with the life and spirit of Jesus. Remember how He endorsed the palm-waving, praise-shouting crowds on that day we call Palm Sunday? Long-faced seriousness is certainly not our full-time duty. Joy must break through conspicuously and frequently—God’s people have reason for joy.
Birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, and the like are measurable evidence of God’s blessings. Another year of life is a gift worth pausing over and a time for firing up some candles of thanksgiving. Marriage can be fraught with pitfalls and challenges, but it also provides satisfactions and rewards. Marriage deserves fireworks of congratulations for each anniversary year of growth and deepening.
Properly, most of these celebrations focus on the birthday boy, the married couple, the mother, the graduate, or an individual marking a special achievement. That’s how it should be. Mostly. But if focus on the star is all there is to it, motivation for perpetuating the traditions may run out of gas. Everyone else must also join in the thrill and fun of the occasion! The electricity for joyous partying should come from being tickled or nudged by the profound daily surprise of God’s gifts streaming steadily into our reservoirs. We must share in the delight of it all, join the dance and light the fireworks.
Spending a little money and energy, even with occasional exorbitance is a fitting act of thanksgiving to the Giver of it all. He wants us to be joyful people. Dancing, singing, shouting (and spending) with excitement over anything great or small is blessed exuberance.
I skipped a couple of my later graduations, writing them off as unimportant. How wrong I was! I have missed birthdays of dear ones because I didn’t regard the event as important enough. For other special days, I have begrudgingly gotten around at the last minute to doing something. I am sorry. I’m trying to do better. All of this connects to an erroneous value system—one that is too lean with reason and practicality, too weak on heart and feelings.
Celebration is God’s idea: “Blow the trumpet ... strike a tambourine ... raise a song ... have a party ... shout joyfully.” God’s people of old twisted, skipped, and leaped in their enthusiastic dancing and merrymaking. I’m afraid I’m not up to that level yet—but I’m working on it.
Seriously.
