A lot of folks don’t fight, because nothing excites them.

Jesus could marvel at a lily, or a sparrow, or the innocence of a child. He could turn water into wine. He could weep at the death of a friend, because life was so bitterly beautiful its loss even touched Him. He could describe a father, running down the road to meet the return of his penitent son, and He knew such a victory had to be celebrated with a great feast. He inspired Solomon’s love for his bride, her breasts sweet as grapes and her navel full of fine liquor.

God hates anything that threatens the beauty of this celebration. He’s at war with the wickedness that mocks His feast. But if you never feast, you reconcile yourself to famine. If you never sing or dance, you put up with noise. If you never love, you stumble through your expected hatreds.

So do something. Build a house. Buy a telescope. Fall in love and marry the girl. Dig a wine cellar. Sing the Messiah. Have children. Take a cruise with your sweetheart. Reject the company of “believers” who parade their holiness in a denial that isn’t real, in prayer and fasting done for show.

God isn’t angry just to be angry. He’s angry because He’s prepared a feast for you — and some of you won’t join in.