A couple wanted to get married. They’d been living together for a while. They weren’t sold on the whole marriage thing, as is common in this generation, but they started to go to church and slowly changed their minds.

The bride and groom were jeans and t-shirt types. Every day they’d put on their sneakers and head off to work. They liked their laid-back style, they fit like two puzzle pieces. She always had her glasses on, only wore contacts when she swam, sometimes not even then. She never wore makeup, and that issued no complaints from the groom, he thought she was the most beautiful person in the world and didn’t need it. He had a beard. It wasn’t shaggy or scraggily, it was well-kept. They were a cute couple and they finally decided to take the leap.

Their friends rejoiced! “HOORAY!” they said. The family said the same thing, “Hallelujah!” They exclaimed.

The couple announced the date of the wedding. They wanted a small thing, just a backyard ceremony with a small circle of friends and close family. Something simple, short, and laid-back. Something that would fit them. Something their dogs could attend and feel comfortable.

The grandparents were the first to grumble. “About time.” They said. “Back in our day, such a thing just wasn’t done. Shacking up together… Kids these days.” But such things are understandable. There are differences between generations. “And no invitations are to be mailed. I’m going to talk to them about that. Back in our day, we sent out engraved invitations with stamped RSVP’s to return. And if we sent out 300, by golly we’d get back 300. Kids these days can’t even be bothered to RSVP.”

So it came to be that the grandmother came and said, “You need engraved invitations dear. It’s simply what’s done.”

Once something is released into the atmosphere, it can set off a chain of events. Once words are spoken, it’s almost like a magic spell. A spell that obliterates the levy holding all the opinions back. Suddenly, the couple was flooded with opinions. Awash in them. They had no time to even build an ark.

“Honey, are… are you going to wear your glasses?” the mother of the bride asked.

“Mom, I always wear my glasses.”

“Well, are you going to at least wear a dress?”

“Mom, I always wear jeans. You know how much I hate dresses.”

“But it’s your wedding day! It is what is done. You get your hair done, you do make-up, you wear a dress, and you don’t wear glasses.”

“Okay, mom. If you say so.”

The mother of the groom said, “There must be mints and nuts on every table!” She was strangely fixated on it. It became her personal crusade. The groom never remembered having nuts in the house since his dad was allergic. “It’s what is done,” said his mom.

Congrats on the marriage, when’s the bachelor party, man? His friends asked. They were looking forward to a night of partying and questionable decisions. “We’re not doing that, dude. We’re just doing a backyard wedding.”

“Dude… it’s what is done. We’re throwing you one!”

“Could it at least be co-ed? You know how we do everything together.”

“GUYS’ NIGHT, BRO!” Have we ever had a guys’ night? We do co-ed game night, BBQ’s…

What really put them over the edge was the groom’s sister. “You are going to shave your beard, right?”

“Excuse me,” The bride said. Her tone dripping acid. The beard was one of her favorite things about her fiancée. The groom’s sister didn’t heed the warning, she pressed the point.

“It’s what’s done. Guys shave. He’ll be in a tux and he has to look proper. Beards simply don’t go with tuxes.” The sister said.

“Who said anything about tuxes?!” the groom exclaimed.

The bride and groom were drowning in the troubled waters of convention. Tradition was crashing on them like a tsunami, and leaving devastation in its wake.

Very early, on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, the couple woke up and felt like calling the whole thing off. It was getting too heavy. It was getting too far from them. Did their friends and family even know who the couple was? Did they see the harm they were causing?

We often don’t. We don’t see the harm we’re causing, often until it’s too late. Tradition can take us, and we just fall in line not think about who we are stepping on or ignoring. In weddings, and in funerals. In the first century, it was customary to anoint the body. That’s what the women were doing on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen. They went out to the tomb.

They were wondering who would roll the stone away when they saw the young man, dressed in a white robe. They were alarmed. “You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; He is not here.”

How utterly rude. What a break in convention. When the Roman state decided to crucify someone, it was the tradition for that person to stay dead. It was just what was done. It was the polite thing to do. Jesus was never much for convention.

We can forget that about him on this high holy day. We can lose that in our tradition. We have a sunrise service to get to. We have to dress up, sing in the choir, flower the cross, cook the ham and eat later on when friends and family come over. Jesus breaks with tradition. And not just here… His birth was strange. There were shepherds and a star, foreign kings with strange gifts. Some said they heard angels. When Herod heard, he was afraid and all of Jerusalem with him.

Jesus taught strange stories. Parables with lessons of things that we just don’t do. When someone hits you, you strike them. You don’t turn the other cheek. If your eye is put out, you take their eye. I mean fair is fair. He said to forgive, even our enemies and pray for those who harm you. We in polite society want to sanitize the shocking message of the gospel. We with our science and modern mindset seek a rational faith that fits our conventional mindset. Well, you’ll have to keep looking, as Christianity is founded on a man who died and came back. There’s no tradition for this. It just isn’t done.

This is what Christ teaches. Before he was killed, he said, “These things I can do, you can do; and greater than these…” Yet his first disciples were seized by terror and amazement.

I think we still are. It’s hard to admit when you’re afraid. We keep the words within us, lest we speak them and unleash a flood that would sweep us to God-knows-where. We wrap ourselves in tradition. We police the conventional wisdom and seek to silence those who speak another truth, a counter-narrative. Just look at what happening to the kids from Parkland, Florida.

Jesus was, is, and will always be the counter-narrative until the Beloved Community of God comes in its fullness. Preaching peace in a violent world, preaching love in a hateful world. Just like the bride and groom, Jesus was misunderstood. All throughout the Gospel of Mark, he tells people he’s the Messiah and then immediately tells them to keep it a secret. Everyone knew what the Messiah was. That king from the line of David, that great military leader who would single-handedly lead the revolt against Rome, and then proceed to conquer every nation on earth. The game of command and conquer is the age-old pastime of humanity. Jesus isn’t playing that game, and he’s trying to get people to listen to this other way of life, this message of God’s grace and forgiveness that will liberate the oppressed and bring good news to the poor!

But convention got in the way. There are certain things that must be done. Engraved invitations, mints on tables, the dress, the tux, the wealth of a king, circling and mobilizing the troops, the victory of the day, the lamentations of our enemies being put to sword. Those who would sit on the left hand and the right hand of the throne.

The couple decided to take some of the advice. They got out some computer paper and wrote in black sharpie. “Hey. Wedding. Our house,” with the date and time. “Wear whatever. Jeans and T-shirts or dresses and tuxes. Beards welcome. No gifts, just your presence. Mints will be served among other things. Yours, the Bride and Groom.”

With such an unconventional invitation, will anyone show up to the wedding?

The original ending of Mark functions much the same way. “Jesus is ahead of you in Galilee, you’ll see him there. They said nothing to no one as they were terrified.” We are now invited to go find Jesus. Our Lord is alive! He has risen! It isn’t in keeping with convention but the invitation still stands! It is an invitation that spans 2,000 years, written on papyrus, on scrolls, and in books. Written by hand, engraved, and printed with a press. It’s digital and found on the web. There’s an app for that. But more importantly we have a personal ask direct from the still-speaking, still inviting Lord of the Dance. Will you come to the party? The invitation still stands. Will you invite others?

It can feel foolish. A dude who is the Son of God, the Word Made Flesh, the one who we killed and wouldn’t do the polite and reasonable thing of staying dead… It just isn’t done. Yet you’re invited to tell the story. We’re the April Fools invited to God’s great party!

The world isn’t the way it is in spite of its conventions, but because of them. The Church is a community that breaks the conventions of injustice, inequity, greed, violence, even death, and dances the divine dance of Love and grace. If you’re looking to change the world, you can do it from here. Clothe the naked. Visit the sick. Feed the hungry. House those without a home. If you’re looking to join such a movement, if you’re looking to make a mark and bend the world toward justice, you’re in the right place. You can change the world from here. The invitation still stands.

For God is still saying those four words… “Come dance with me.”