The Eliot Church of Newton

Angela Monet, 20th century
Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.

Friedrich Nietzsche, 19th century
Without music, life would be a mistake.... I would only believe in a God who knew how to dance.

Irenaeus of Lyons, 2^nd century

The glory of God is the human person fully alive.

2 Samuel 6:1-5,12b-19
David again gathered all the chosen men of Israel, thirty thousand. David and all the people with him set out and went from Baale-judah, to bring up from there the ark of God, which is called by the name of the Lord of hosts who is enthroned on the cherubim. They carried the ark of God on a new cart, and brought it out of the house of Abinadab, which was on the hill. Uzzah and Ahio, the sons of Abinadab, were driving the new cart with the ark of God; and Ahio went in front of the ark. David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals.

So David went and brought up the ark of God from the house of Obed-edom to the city of David with rejoicing; and when those who bore the ark of the Lord had gone six paces, he sacrificed an ox and a fatling. David danced before the Lord with all his might; David was girded with a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet. As the ark of the Lord came into the city of David, Michal daughter of Saul looked out of the window, and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart. They brought in the ark of the Lord, and set it in its place, inside the tent that David had pitched for it; and David offered burnt offerings and offerings of well-being before the Lord. When David had finished offering the burnt offerings and the offerings of well-being, he blessed the people in the name of the Lord of hosts, and distributed food among all the people, the whole multitude of Israel, both men and women, to each a cake of bread, a portion of meat, and a cake of raisins. Then all the people went back to their homes.

Reflection:

(sung out loud)

Dance then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the Dance said he…
and I will lead you all, wherever you may be, 
and I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he…

When was the last time you danced with passion and abandon, praised God with your tambourine and castanets and cymbals in a raucous community of joy and gratitude for what God is doing in your life and in the lives of others. 

Ever?

Personally, I could count the number of times I have danced my prayers and praise, and believe me it was only because I was naïve enough to take “liturgical dance for worship” in seminary and was forced to improvise a dance solo for chapel in order to pass the class. I must say, it wasn’t pretty.   Dancing in worship? It’s not something we mainline Protestants do….spontaneously or even willingly.

And yet, dancing before God is part of the fabric of the faith we have inherited.   The people of Ancient Israel danced often in gratitude—remember Miryam, and the women of Israel, dancing with drums and song in praise to the One who led them out of slavery, out of Egypt, delivering them and promising a new home, a new land flowing with milk and honey.

And today, our text tells a story of the fulfillment of that promise in the beloved and complicated King David, who cavorts in sheer delight, barely dressed as he celebrates God’s faithful work in the life of Israel. 

Why all this dancing now? Because, this a big moment for David and the people, to bring the Ark “home”. They have been through many battles, they have finished a multitude of building projects, they are a  people united, and Jerusalem is the newly established seat of power for Israel. During that time, The Ark of the Covenant had been stolen by the Philistines, only to be returned to Israel, and had been resting in a temporary home, until it could be brought to its rightful place. , the Ark was "the most powerful symbol of the Lord's presence with Israel at that time. The container for the tablets of the commandments had accompanied the people for years on their journey toward the Promised Land and during their time of settlement on the land.” [1] 

Restoring the ark to the center of people of God, in Jerusalem, was a culmination of so much for David, that all he could do was dance and praise. A passionate leader,  “cuts the rug”[2] with God, with exuberance and complete abandon. His body reflects the joy of the body of God’s people.

When I was in Israel this past week, part of what I discovered was the passion and awe of God being at the center of a community that contained deep love and abiding faith in God. 

I will admit. I was a wee bit hesitant to go on this trip, sponsored by the Jewish Community Relations Council of Boston.   I didn’t know but one person (and not all that well) going. We were a group of Christian clergy, Directors of non-profits dedicated to social justice and rabbis.   It was a truly interfaith and ecumenical group of people—which was a feat in itself.   Typically, when Christians organize ecumenical delegations of folk, we include Catholics, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Methodists, and maybe a Baptist or two, rarely a Unitarian, and usually the social location representation is dominantly white, suburban middle age men, with maybe a token woman and possibly a person of color. 

Leave it to the Jews of Boston to put together the widest range of religious  expression possible—clergy from the inner city to New Hampshire; from a Holy Deliverance Temple to Greek Orthodox to Baptist to Unitarian to Reformed and Conservative Judaism—and quite possibly everything in between. We were Latino, Jamaican, Southern, Yankee, gay, straight, married, single, and mostly Red Sox fans. This group looked like a recipe for disaster, a train wreck ready to happen because we were so different in our beliefs and theologies and worship practices.  

Seriously, our divisions were stark and serious—regarding the authority of the Bible, about GLBT issues, about how to worship, how to pray, and how we imagine God. However, the common thread of placing God in the center of Life was beyond any difference.   It was the glue, the bond that brought us together in a deeply respectful and passionate group of faithful people that offered the openness to experience true community.   In spite of differences.

We sang together “We Shall Over Come” with youth from Sderot, an Israeli city on the border of the Gaza Strip, that has been the target of homemade bombs, or “gassams” that have been launched with so much frequency that each home is required to have a bomb shelter attached to it. Post Traumatic Syndrome runs rampant there. 

We held hands at the Garden of Gethsemane, and sang again, together, “I Walk in the Garden Alone.” 

We also held hands with Israeli Army Generals and Palestinian Reporters, asking for peace in that very holy land.  

And we broke bread and danced on the Sabbath with rabbinical students in Jerusalem.

Oh, and we prayed, a lot. In charismatic prayer language, in English, in Spanish, in Greek, and in Hebrew. We prayed loudly and softly, with eyes opened, and eyes creased shut, with arms in the air, and arms around each other.

We laughed.
We teased.
We asked a lot of questions. 
       Some had answers, some brought forth more questions.
We wondered. 
We sat at table, sharing the abundance of the fruits of the land of Milk and Honey.  
We accepted.
We were open to the Spirit.
We expressed praise, tears, joy, sorrow, deep feeling, and comic relief.
We loved.
Because God in the center oriented our life together in ways I have never experienced.
We were vulnerable,
And honest.
We were almost naked before God in our earnest desire to learn about peacemaking, to get a handle on conflict, and to offer ourselves to one another. 

In many ways, we danced before God.
Because it was something we could do together.  
God led us in the dance, and
God danced with us.  
In our words, and actions, and prayers. 

Friedrich Nietzsche, wrote:  
Without music, life would be a mistake.... I would only believe in a God who knew how to dance.

I love this. I wholeheartedly agree. 
Our God knows how to dance. 
And invites us to dance with Her.
And with each Other.

I am not going to ask you to dance today.  
But I do want to ask you…why it is that we don’t dance more—figuratively or literally. 
We mainline Christians can be quite tame,
And we can be very structured and reserved in our praise. 

When we compare our faith and our ritual with that of ancient Israel, does it seem that we have tried to "tame" God?
Or at least, tame our thanksgiving and praise? 

How deep is your  awe at what God is doing in your life, and in the life of the world? What does it mean to rejoice with “all your might” because God is at the center of your lives?  
It seems to me we ought to be dancing almost every minute when we realize the goodness of God in the living of our days.
It’s true: God is good. We can be the dance and peace of God, wherever we go.   

The ten days spent in Israel with an unlikely band of travelers taught me that people of all faiths can find unity in a life shared together, if we are humble and seek God’s wisdom. 
There is a place for all of us at the table of God, in the dance of God,

And in the dream of peace that we share. 
My experience of radical difference and deep community all at once taught me this.

And that is a reason to Just Dance.

Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he.
And I’ll lead you all wherever you may be,
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.

Amen.

Pastoral Prayer

Thom M. Shuman, Lectionary Liturgies.Blogspot.Com, Proper 10:B

Oh Holy One,

Every moment, we have the chance
to breathe in your goodness and grace;
every hour, we have opportunities
to share your love and hope;
every day, we have occasions
to rest in the comfort of your heart.
In you, we discover the fullness of time,
Delight of the Ages.

In every challenge we face,
we can find the strength to persevere;
in every person we meet,
we can find the blessing you have sent;
in every need we encounter,
we can find the help you would have us offer.
In you, we discover the fullness of life,
Companion of our days.

In every conflict of our lives,
there is your healing we can offer;
in every brokenness we experience,
there is that reconciliation we can receive;
in every difficulty which makes us stumble,
there is that dance of hope you would teach us.
In you, we discover the fullness of faith,
Promised Spirit.

God in Community, Holy in One,
in you we discover the fullness we long for,
even as we pray as we are taught, saying,

Benediction

--Janet Morley, 20^th century British churchwoman and liturgist