To what shall I compare the people of this generation?
What are they like?
They are like children who sit in the marketplace and call to one another,
'We played the flute for you, but you did not dance.
We sang a dirge, but you did not weep.'
How ready are we to respond to the music God is playing? It might seem mean-spirited of these children to not respond to the effort made by the musicians. Yet it is easy to imagine that when the flute was played they were in the mood for something else, something sad or serious. And it is easy to imagine that the dirge was also played at exactly the wrong moment to correspond with their natural mood. How likely were these children to turn aside from play and games and fun just because someone started singing a dirge?
When we realize that it may not be so obvious as we first assume that we ought to immediately try to correspond with the divine music, when we realize that there are many impediments and distractions to doing so, we will not be so quick to dismiss the people of that generation while giving ourselves a pass. How then are we like those unresponsive children?
We sometimes get caught up in the sadness of this world, tending toward death, and thus do not resonate with the eternal promises of the Kingdom. In doing so we mourn as those who have no hope and at such times find the music of such hope repugnant.
At other times we get caught up in the joys of sin. We then try to eternalize pleasures that can only be temporary. The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life play their own hypnotic tune whereas the dirge of the call to take up our cross and follow Jesus feels abrasive, unfair, and unnecessary.
If we insist on sitting our course by our mood we will find ourselves choosing according to our base instincts. These choices will seldom correspond to the call God. Perhaps their will be some apparent occasional overlap for briefs moments when what we happen to feel at the moment lines up with God's plan. But if we ourselves remain in firm control such overlap will be short lived. We must surrender ourselves to the music that comes from outside of ourselves.
For John the Baptist came neither eating food nor drinking wine,
and you said, 'He is possessed by a demon.'
The Son of Man came eating and drinking and you said,
'Look, he is a glutton and a drunkard,
a friend of tax collectors and sinners.'
We might wonder if to dance to music when we aren't in the mood will remain unnatural and difficult. But when we allow ourselves to become enchanted and taken by the music God is playing we will find that more and more we desire to dance to his tune. We will sense a deeper structure and an eternal logic to his music that we couldn't find in the variability of our whims.
But wisdom is vindicated by all her children.
Let us become the children of wisdow, dancing to her tune, responding to her call to come to the feast.
Wisdom has built her house.
She has carved out her seven pillars.
She has prepared her meat.
She has mixed her wine.
She has set her table (see Proverbs 9:1-2).
The place where this feast is found is "the house of God, which is the Church of the living God, the pillar and foundation of truth". This is the place where wisdom leads, the place from which her music emanates, and where true joy may be found. The feast is thus Jesus himself. What more could he have given?
He has given food to those who fear him;
he will forever be mindful of his covenant.
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