It's My Party

In 1963, an American singer named Lesley Gore reached the top of the charts with her song, It’s My Party. The song tells the all-too familiar story of the breakup of “puppy love.” The heart of the lyrics declares, “It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to . . . You would cry too if it happened to you.” What happened was  that a 16 year old girl was having a birthday, her boyfriend disappears for a while and when he shows back up, another girl, Judy, is wearing his ring. 

I’m not sure why, but that song has been floating around in my head for a while, but not quite in the same context of the song. Every time I start humming the tune and thinking about the words, I wonder whether or not Jesus might sing those words, with a tear or two running down His cheeks.

After all, it is His party. Gathering around Jesus, meeting in His name, is what the party is all about. He died a pretty violent death so that, in mysterious ways, people like me could come to the party. The party is such a transforming experience, that Paul insists the party really is “the body of Christ.” And that phrase is far more than a clever little metaphor Paul invented.

As a summary for his own approach to what it means to be at the party that belongs to Jesus, Paul declares, “we preach Christ, and Him crucified.” He would not market the gospel of Jesus to the signs mentality of the Jews, nor the worldview demands of the Greeks. We preach Jesus. Period. (1 Cor. 1:18-25)

Oddly, it seems that it is sometimes difficult to let it be Jesus’ party. We don’t quite say that so directly, but it is such a simple step from “Jesus. Period” to “Jesus. And . . .” With a kind of decontextualizing of a phrase or two out of the Bible, often a very radical way of proof texting is  born where it never is “Jesus. Period” and always is “Jesus and my pet issues.”

I continue to be intrigued when I think about Paul’s letters to the believers in Galatia and those in Corinth. The Galatians seems to have life figured out pretty well. We would certainly see them as “doctrinally conservative” and notice that apparently the moral issues in their fellowships weren’t serious. They would be prime candidates for the old Moral Majority and the Right to Life way of following Jesus. They did have a theological challenge when it comes to the relationship of faith and works, but all-in-all, they look like “our kind of people.”

But you don’t even have to read carefully to realize that the believers in Corinth have moral, sociological, theological, and just about any other kind of problem you can think about. From the “I’m more spiritual than you are because of who baptized me” to what seems to be confusion about the resurrection of Jesus – and lots of points between – they are struggling.

Yet, in Galatians, Paul uniquely omits his typical opening thanksgiving statement, and on two occasions, calls them “foolish.” But 1 Corinthians we find what could be Paul’s most eloquent thanksgiving opening for his epistles, and he regularly calls them “brothers and sisters.” 

The Galatians were saying, to speculate a bit, “It’s Jesus and . . .” The Corinthians might have been saying, “It’s Jesus, help us figure that out together.”  Despite what appear to be some personal conflicts between Paul and some of the Corinthians, he seems much more comfortable with the Corinthians than he does the Galatians. But honesty compels me to admit that it is so much more comfortable to be around the “Jesus and . . .” from Galatia than it is the guy at Corinth living such an immoral life, or the people in Corinth confused about meat sacrificed to idols, etc.

Just recently, a friend told me that he always thinks he has to “defend” his desire to be forgiving and welcoming to sinners. The spirit of Galatia lives on, while the struggles of Corinth get ignored, because we are afraid of “the spirit of Galatia” and its criticism. 

Having spent nearly all of my adult life studying Scripture, studying theology, reading and reading all sorts of related things, and preaching sermons and teaching college students in the U.S. and abroad, I have at least a minimally competent understanding of “doctrine.” And I can talk reasonably intelligently about biblical morals and values. 

But in the end, the priority is Jesus. Period. The civic Jesus of right-wing political values is not always the Jesus of Scripture. Yet in so many contexts, unless you and I talk about the hot moral issues of our day, like homosexuality, abortion, genetic research, to name a few, in exactly the same way – you might not think I’m Christian. And unless we talk about biblical doctrines in exactly the same way, you might not think I’m Christian. And the spirit of Galatia lives!

If Jesus were to come down for a private visit this afternoon, I hope and pray He wouldn’t start the conversation with “It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to . . . You would cry too if it happened to you.”