Why Have a Party?

Several times along the way I questioned it, wished we weren’t doing it, wondered what in the world was motivating us in the first place. No, I’m not talking about getting married, or buying a house, or having kids. It was just a New Year’s Eve party.

But any party takes time, money, and effort, so there are qualms. The cynic in me says, “That’s much ado about nothing. It’s just another day.” The frugal side says, “You could get the car fixed with that money.” My insecurity wonders, “Will they want to come?" The ascetic whispers that it’s frivolous. The melancholy says, “How can you celebrate in the worst recession in history?”

(I thought all these things and more, which I won’t relate lest you think I’m the most hopelessly introspective and analytical person you’ve ever met.)

The day of the party, around noon, I got a call from the place we were renting saying there was a big problem. Plumbing? A fire? Vandalism? No, they had double-booked the place. For about three hours it was up in the air, but in the end our party was trumped by the square dancers who refused to do-si-do somewhere else.

I’m in tears when I call Pat, so of course he becomes optimism incarnate, “I’ll borrow some tents from the church, get some heaters; we’ll have it at our house and in the yard. It’ll be great.” It was going down to 23 degrees that night.

Fortunately, another place was found for us, and after a flurry of phone calls and Facebook messages, a small window of time in which to decorate, and a scramble to find speakers for our messed-up stereo system, we ended up having our party in a much nicer place than we’d originally paid for.

The next day, exhausted, reflecting, I wonder ...

Why do people have parties? Why do we celebrate? What is in us that wants to mark the end of something, a new beginning? Why do we go to great lengths to make special foods, polish the silver, string lights, starch shirts, squeeze into high heels, all for just a few hours of fun?

Because celebration is in the heart of God, that’s why. As creatures made in His image, we want and need to celebrate, to rejoice, make merry. In every culture, there is this desire to single out one day, one person, one event, to focus energy and resources to culminate in a gathering that is festive, separate from the hum-drum of everyday life.

That celebration is often expressed with more vigor outside the faith community than inside is a shameful irony. Of all people, we have the most to celebrate, but we’re often like the pious people in Babette’s Feast, who lived joyless, grim lives in the name of religion, and didn't see that all good things are gifts from a loving, joyous God.

Before the party, a minister friend asked what kind of gathering it would be, saying that while his wife liked a “spiritual” New Year’s Eve, he preferred a fun one, a party. For me, the two go together. Like Babette, like the father for his prodigal son, like God Himself who promises a feast beyond compare, I enjoyed providing a party for those I love.

Eric Liddell, the Olympic runner become missionary whose story is beautifully told in the movie, Chariots of Fire, said of his running, “I feel His pleasure.” When I saw that movie back in the 80’s, I longed to have something like that in my life, something so tangibly human that was also so profoundly spiritual. Alas, I never felt it running, but I do feel it when I’m preparing for guests, when I’m anticipating a celebration, making ready for a party.