The speaker starts with something small: a breakfast of radishes. From there the poem turns this simple meal into a kind of creed. Eating becomes "the happiest act of oblivion," a moment where worries drop away, and the "Church of No" suggests a refusal of the rules and institutions that usually tell us how to live. The title's word "Gospel" plays along, since the poem is full of religious language but points it at pleasure instead of obedience.
The speaker says they accept no authority except "fire" and the joy of the body. They live without money or credit, spending only time and making music. The final lines, where they have come "to bring this news / and a bottle of wine," feel like a joke and a sincere offer at once, as if a preacher showed up with a party instead of a sermon. The mood is playful, defiant, and warm. It invites the reader to slow down and enjoy being alive.