7.12.09 "Dancing with God"
WESTMINSTER PULPIT
The Rev. Robert H. Fernández
July 12, 2009 “Dancing With God”
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 Psalm 24:3-6
Ephesians 1:11-14 Mark 6:17-29
“Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it—every, every minute?” Emily, a young woman in Thornton Wilder’s play Our Town asks that question. In the play Emily dies in childbirth, but is granted a unique experience: the Stage Manager allows her to return from death and live one day of her life with her family. Although Emily has high hopes for that one day, she is disappointed. Just before she returns to her place in the cemetery, she reveals her frustration to the Stage Manager:
Emily: We don’t have time to look at one another. (She breaks down, sobbing.) I didn’t realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it—every, every minute?
Stage Manager: No. (Pause.) The saints and poets, maybe—they do, some.
Emily’s observation challenges us to live with awareness, realizing “life while we live it—every, every minute.” We need to be reminded to take careful note of all that is going on around us and inside of us, to be in touch with ourselves and other people at the deepest level—to be mindful of God. Artists, as Wilder says through the Stage Manager, certainly need this kind of awareness to express their art with authenticity—whether they write or paint or compose and perform music and dance. They need to pay attention to what is around them and inside of them. They must take time to penetrate below the surface of things, to rediscover the world with an eye of truth and reality. Being an artist involves grasping life in its depth. But as Wilder also states, the same thing is true of saints. Saints also have the capability to grasp life in all its fullness and meaning.
Today’s scripture readings from the lectionary lend themselves to artistic comparison with the dance:
· In the reading from the book of Samuel, we see King David dancing with all his might while wearing only a linen loincloth. It was quite a spectacle! The occasion was bringing into Jerusalem, the Ark of the Covenant, the most sacred symbol of the Hebrew religion. This ark, or chest, contained the two tablets of stone on which were inscribed the Ten Commandments, Aaron's rod which he used during the sojourn of forty years in the wilderness after the escape from Egypt, and some manna, the heavenly food given by God to the Hebrew nation during their wilderness journey. The cover of the ark had two cherubim, or angelic figures, facing each other at opposite ends and whose forward outstretched wings almost touched. It was in the space between the outstretched wings that the shining presence of God was residing. God had specially chosen David to be king and to be the one who would bring this sacred symbol with great rejoicing into the Holy City when it became the capital of the united nation!
· In the reading from the Gospel of Mark, we read about King Herod’s stepdaughter’s seductive dance that ended up with the beheading of John the Baptist. It was Herod’s birthday banquet, and he had had a bit too much to drink. The girl’s dance pleased him so much that in his drunkenness, he said, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” A most foolish oath because her wish was her mother’s wish: the head of John on a platter!
Here we see two starkly contrasting dances:
· one of rejoicing in God’s presence performed by a king;
· the other a sinister plot to end the life of God’s prophet by the conniving Herodias, her daughter, and Herod.
These passages challenge us to see life at a deeper level. Artists are not the only ones who must grasp life deeply. All of us are called to do the same. There are two reasons why we must live life beyond superficiality. First of all, we are the saints Wilder spoke about in Our Town. Does that come as a surprise? Frequently the New Testament refers to Christians as saints. Think about that. The second reason is that each one of us is a special kind of artist—dancers, if you will; we dance the life of our own lives. If we are to live with any authenticity, we must join those saints and artists Wilder mentions who grasp and live life in depth.
To dance life deeply is a special challenge, for it is so easy to be superficial. It is so simple to dance carelessly and move impulsively without noticing, especially of those with whom we are dancing, because we are so busy. Care should be taken so that we are not found dancing with destructive persons or forces. Herodias’ daughter danced, not by herself. In reality she was dancing with her mother in a sinister plot, and with great cunning drew her stepfather into the evil dance. The portrait of the Herodian court takes on the character of a medieval morality play: an impressive political gathering, a dancing girl, a drunken oath and a scheming wife determine the end of one of the great prophets of Israel.
But that was not the end of the dance. Mark says that even defenseless, unarmed, decapitated, dead men, like John the Baptist, come back to haunt—not only the powerful of this world but all of us when we dance with bad company. Herod thought that John the Baptist had come back to life to haunt him in the person of Jesus Christ.
On the other hand, we have the ecstatic dance of King David. God had chosen him to be ruler of the Hebrew nation. God had enabled him to defeat the giant Goliath and eventually the dreaded Philistines. God had chosen him to lead the procession to bring the sacred Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem. And God had other great plans for him in the future resulting in a golden age in the nation’s history. I would venture to say that David was dancing with God. David was very much in tune with the leading of God in his life, and God was most pleased with the complete and dedicated response of the young David.
The dance in Herod’s court was sinister. The dance in the procession into Jerusalem was joyous and liberating.
These contrasting scenes call us to examine our dance card, if you will permit me this comparison. I pose questions that each one of us is to answer:
· Who are our dance partners currently?
· What questionable dances have we danced whose results will come back to haunt us unless we make amends?
· How do life's pressures affect our judgment?
God invites us, as David was invited, to dance life with God as our partner. The outcome of this sacred dance is summarized in the letter to the church at Ephesus we have read this morning. It is in the form of a prayer of blessing. God's work of claiming us as his own is set forth. God's grace is lavishly bestowed on us through Jesus Christ. God's saving work is conceived as a mystery that is now revealed.
In the opera Faust, there is a fight to the finish between Satan and the young man Valentine. During the course of the fight, Satan breaks Valentine's sword, and he stands poised to slay him. But the young boy takes the two pieces of his sword and fashions them into a cross. Confronted with this symbol of faith, Satan becomes immobilized and Valentine is saved, but only temporarily.
It is a powerful concept—a dramatic demonstration of faith. However, such resolution of faith might cause you your life. In fact, it might be your deathbed. It was true of John the Baptist. It was the same for Jesus Christ. But it is a death that leads to life, because the dance of life, love and truth goes on. God asks each one of us, “May I have this dance?
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