Sermon July 12 2009

Sermon July 12 2009
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
Psalm 24
Ephesians 1:3-14
Mark 6:14-29
“What’s with the Attitude?
My mother loved to dance. She told me this on several occasions, but I never really saw her do it. I have often wondered how she felt when she danced—was it joy? Was this the time when she could be herself? What made her want to dance? What feelings were behind the dancing? My sister also loves to dance—dancing offers freedom of movement and a time of expression.

I’ve never danced much—but I didn’t have the same opportunities that people had in my mother’s generation, I think. Dances, in my mother’s day, were family events. Dances, when I was growing up, were dark and sultry and felt a little dangerous. I don’t think I had the same opportunity to love it like my mother and sister did because of the years between us.

But dancing is a biblical expression of joy—people have always danced in spiritual ecstasy. Before David danced, the people of Israel danced as Miriam sang songs of praise at the Red Sea. Before David danced, people everywhere danced at weddings and in times of praising God. But David’s dancing was noted, his story was told because David’s dancing expressed how David felt about God—passionate and intense. It also expressed the joy and love that God felt in David. It was a reflection of David’s knowledge and intimate relationship with God—dancing was David’s way of expressing God’s presence in him.

What’s interesting about this dance is that it wasn’t really an acceptable way of worshiping God according to some of the laws and standards of those who kept temple ways. According to some laws, David dancing around the Ark of the Covenant in only his loin cloth—or linen ephod, as the Bible says—was prohibited. In the priestly rules of conduct written once the ark had a temple, a priest wasn’t even supposed to step up onto a step to approach the ark, lest he accidentally flash the ark under his robes. It was a serious thing, this Ark of the Covenant business—once it had and institution and a temple and rules. But this scene in 2 Samuel occurs before all that—the Ark, this day of David’s dancing was a thing of beauty, joy and a symbol of their faithful history and walk with God.
According to tradition, this ark contained the tablets of covenant that God gave Moses on the mountain, the bronze snake that Moses lifted in the wilderness, a sample of Manna in a jar and other symbols of God’s work in the history of Israel. Law, healing, sustenance, protection—these were represented. And the people had experience the ark as an object of power—when people were near it they felt the presence of God. Joy came spontaneously because this box reminded them of the stories they told of God and of God’s servants.

It may have eventually promoted an attitude of some awe; but in these early days before the temple was built, the ark brought forth feelings of jubilation, elation and delight. The people sang and hope filled them when their leader was full of the attitude they could see came directly from God.

In the words of the story there is an attitude of jubilation that needs expression—as Jesus said, quoting scripture, if the people do not sing, the rocks themselves will cry out. The presence of God evokes joy—promotes an attitude of hope and movement toward wholeness.

A medieval mystic named Mechtild, as a part of a very large group of writings—wrote this prayer expressing her joy at God’s presence and leading.

I cannot dance, O Lord,
unless you lead me.
If you will
that I leap joyfully
then you must be the first to dance
and sing.

Then, and only then,
will I leap for love.
Then I will soar
from love to knowledge,
from knowledge to fruition,
from fruition to beyond
all human sense.


And there
I will remain
and circle forevermore.

Imagine what she must have experienced in God’s presence to express her feelings so exuberantly and with such faith. She was the member of a wealthy family who had experienced vision as a child—she was guided by members of the church, but when she began to criticize some of the leadership she needed protection and guidance. So when she was grown she entered a convent to protect her from the institutions that wanted rules more than experience.

And it wasn’t something she planned or even asked for—she often felt plagued by her visions because they carried with them knowledge of God’s work in her life and the life of the faithful. They carried wisdom and knowledge of God’s love for her—that’s what she wrote about and sang about. Her dancing was often metaphorical—it was the dance of her spirit—though that did not mean she did not dance in body as well. And that may have upset the religious authorities as well—physical movement in religious women was seen as a source of sin rather than religious devotion.

David danced and the people danced along—his joy in dance and music was a part of the reason that many believe he wrote the psalms. David’s dance expressed an attitude of joy at God’s continuing presence—through Israel’s history and at his moment in time.

What attitude do we express as we dance through life, whether we are quiet, faithful, loud, disgusted, exuberant, joyful, enlightened or confused ? What attitude to we reveal to God, to others and to ourselves?

The attitude of a dance can be different depending on movement, internal motivation and circumstance. Dancing at a wedding expresses love, joy and hope. Dancing as entertainment can be anything from story-telling to seduction.

Dance, in my way of thinking is one way of talking about life. What does the dance we are dancing tell those who watch it. Do we dance just to get through life as quickly and painlessly as possible? Or does the dance express a particular meaning? Do we dance to celebrate the life that God has given us or do we dance to the music of power and corruption, of seduction and sin?

In Mark’s gospel there is another story about dance that ends in destruction and death for John the baptist. The attitude expressed by the supposed royalty and leadership in Jerusalem is revealed in this story. Some fill in the blanks of the story with details of Herod’s wife and treachery—with her ideas of treachery of a premeditation of John’s murder. I don’t think that was necessary. But the dance itself was one probably meant to entice corrupt power rather than to give glory to the power of God. The purpose of the dance—the attitude of movement was seduction, not solely of a man—but of the power he had taken.

The dance she danced was caused by Herod’s dance of death begun long before that night in his palace—the dance began in Herod’s father’s time when he murdered to maintain his power. This Herod murdered and threatened his brothers and stole his brother Philip’s wife.

The dance of death is not the attitude that God desire from us either—to dance is not enough. We are called to life—Jesus came, in his words, “that we may have life and have it abundantly.” That is the dance that Jesus brings—as he reveals the God that loved Moses, Joshua, even Saul, David and Solomon. He revealed again and again the God who wanted to love us into discipleship—to draw us to God’s very own self. We are called to dance the dance of God’s love for us.

Let us pray again with Mechtild of Magdeburg:

I cannot dance, O Lord,
unless you lead me.
If you will
that I leap joyfully
then you must be the first to dance
and sing.
Then, and only then,
will I leap for love.
Then I will soar
from love to knowledge,
from knowledge to fruition,
from fruition to beyond
all human sense.
And there
I will remain
and circle forevermore.
Amen.