Here it happens, deja vu all over again, David danced, and Saul's daughter Michal tattles on him for acting shamelessly. Herod throws a birthday party, and his disgruntled wife asks for John the Baptist's head on a platter. No matter where the celebration takes place or when the word of God's remarkable love gets out, someone has to show his or her offense. Someone has to put a damper on the action. Someone, somewhere, gets the big idea that what God wants from human beings is our passionless obedience. Somewhere the pervasive lie has gotten to us that the spoilsport (not unlike Dana Carvey's character - the Church Lady) is the ultimate Christian believer when these scriptural stories actually indicate something far different.

So let's look at these two stories as examples of the ways in which God's party gets ruined. In 2 Samuel, we find David dancing around with the Ark of the Covenant, which has already become established as a relic of "Mosaic" religion. It may seem rather silly to us. We certainly don't dance around with crosses or any other of our religious symbols all that frequently. And most certainly, if we were to give such a liturgical dance a try, we'd want to do so with our clothes on. But the story also indicates that David wasn't just dancing, he was rejoicing in the power of God's love and God's abundance. In gratitude for God's watch over Israel, he was handing out breads, meats and cakes of raisins. THEN, before he even reaches the threshold of his own home, Michal, the late King Saul's daughter greets him with sarcasm, "How the king of Israel honored himself today before the eyes of his servants' maids, as any vulgar fellow might shamelessly uncover himself!"

David reminds her that it was before the Lord that he danced, and this celebration is indeed nothing that will bring him shame. But for the sourpuss of the story, the Bible offers us a curse. Michal would have no child until the day of her death - a sure sign of her disfavor with God in this time and place. God's dance gets interrupted, and without hesitation, the poo-pooer gets smacked down in her place.

Then, I think the story from Mark's gospel can also be interpreted as a tale of a party spoiled by someone's inability to hear the good news. Scripture tells us that even Herod was intrigued by John the Baptist's strange words of repentance and prophecy of the Messiah. His new bride, however, was infuriated by John's critique of their relationship - so much so that at Herod's birthday party, just as all seems to be going well and a loosened up King offers his wife her choice of whatever she wants "even to half the kingdom," her desire for revenge gets the better of her and her request ends up being a call for John's blood.

So, whether it stems merely from petty sarcasm or reaches the feverish pitch of rage-filled revenge, the one who brings the end to the party is pretty much ALWAYS the bad guy or gal according to scriptural truth. We know that later David gets "excused" for what were some pretty big, pretty bad things, and Herod's name is forever tied with the desire to see Jesus dead. But in these two incidents, there was something even worse going on. Our holy book continually casts the killjoy as the ultimate villain, certainly not as the supreme faithful one. That prudish spin is our own later Puritan addition. In these stories, it didn't matter so much whether or not David had his clothes on or off, and it didn't matter that Herod probably felt some relief at the death of John the Baptist. It was Michal and Herodius who both did something reprehensible. They killed the spirit of praise, the spirit of rejoicing, the spirit of God's good news ringing out through the wilderness. With a word, with an axe, it didn't matter. They both killed the celebratory mood with their actions.

They stole the energy of the moment. There is no one word that accurately describes it, but I know you know the feeling. The proverbial party pooper is capable of bringing down the mood of the crowd in a heartbeat. It's miserable. The celebration that was once fun and full of joy, light, and energy, becomes tense and sullen. So why do we do this to one another? And more importantly, why has spoilsport status gained popularity among the church-going set?

We, as people rooted in Holy Scripture, should be adamantly against party poopers of all sorts, perhaps even saying so in our Book of Order, but instead we pick much lamer categories to fight about. We who call ourselves Christians, who were so happy about God's gift of Jesus Christ as to call him the new creation or the light of the world fight about stupid things like putting restrictions on how exactly people ought to love each other. We fight about money and the fair distribution of God's gifts, thinking that they were ever ours to begin with. We fight about who's right and who's wrong over single lines of scriptural text when all God has done has been to invite us to this great party we call life. We are the ones pooping on God's party, and I have no qualms about saying that one day we're going to pay the price for that. We seem to find an inexhaustible source of reasons for not celebrating, and very few reasons for celebrating. We seem to be the misery that craves such company that we'll even bring God down in the process.

I may never understand how it got to the point that Christians pride themselves on maintaining such serious behaviors. Somewhere along the way, we've gotten some things pretty messed up, that's for sure. Instead of dancing and throwing parties as a church family, we've learned how to restrict our worship to the neck up and we are known for holding the most boring meetings in human existence. Christians have been reduced to such characters as Saturday Night Live's "the Church Lady" and The Simpsons' "Ned Flanders." We're either taking ourselves too seriously, or not taking our fun seriously enough!

In reading scripture on a regular basis, sure the details of the stories are important, but I like to think that there are really important themes that also emerge. The theme that pops out here, more so than any one story, is what I hope you'll go home with today. And as this recurring event reminds us, the refusal to celebrate God's good gifts is one of our greatest offenses. To refuse the joy of life, to accept the invitation to God's party and then say it's not good enough seems to bring God's wrath swiftly and without exception. There are a thousand sins and oversights we can commit every day, and we probably do, but the for those who are willing to laugh, to dance, to live life both deeply and joyfully, scripture seems to prove that God will overlook just about anything else. So embrace the party life. Welcome the celebration, dance, sing, light some candles, and eat cake. Our true enjoyment seems to be thanks enough for God. Amen.