The Mighty Dance of Faith (2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19)

 

The Mighty Dance of Faith

 

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19

When was the last time you danced?

I reckon you could make a video about dancing and Christian denominations. All the Anglicans would be only be dancing to set moves – we like to dance to the rubrics of the prayer book. The Orthodox would be gently swaying up the back of the hall, eyes closed, half-smile on their faces. The Baptists and Presbyterians would be having an argument at the bar. The Pentecostals would be up the front in the mosh pit.

Dancing does not, on the face of things, seem very productive. Dancing seems, to me, to be deeply personal. And dancing seems to happen when we have something deeply personal within us that we just can’t help but express. We have to show how we feel, and we don’t care if anyone else knows about it.

At least with visual art we can see and appreciate the link between the artist’s technical skill and our own emotions. And with music, all you really have to do to participate is to sit and listen. But dancing? Dancing is weird. Dancing is something you have to do yourself to really appreciate. You can dance with other people – but those other people have to be dancing, too. Everyone involved has to feel something within them, and not care if anyone else knows about it.

Dancing doesn’t help the economy. It doesn’t build bridges, it doesn’t clean dishes, it doesn’t help legislation get passed. Dancing just is. It is a complete freedom from expectation.

David was the king, but he felt something deep within him, and he didn’t care if anyone else knew about it.

When David led the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem, he was in a historic moment. The Ark is the symbol of God’s close presence. God is not up there in the sky, sometimes listening, sometimes off doing his own thing; rather, God is here amongst us. And the fact that it is the Ark of the Covenant means that it is a symbol of the proof of God’s promise to stay here with us. Bringing the promise and presence of God into the capital was a big deal.

God, ineffable, transcendent, almighty, unsearchable, holy – here amongst us, speaking to us and listening to us, helping us, comforting us, guiding us. And the promise: the promise that God will be with us in this way, forever. David’s response? He danced, and not only danced, but danced with all his might. The feeling he felt within himself was strong, so strong that the only way he could match the feeling was to use all his might to dance it out. And he didn’t care who knew about it.

There’s truth in the concept that we don’t take God anywhere – that we can’t have God in a little box and pull him out when we think the time is right, for example at a certain moment in a conversation. God has gone before us; God is in all places at all times, holding everything together. But in another sense, we have all been ordained into ministering Christ everywhere we go, a type of ordination we all received at our baptism. In that sense, we are like David, leading the Ark of the Covenant, anointed by the Holy Spirit to dance before the Lord everywhere we go, and to dance with all our might. The promise God made to us at our baptism is an unbreakable promise, a covenant promise made by God to each one of us. We can draw on the might of God, made to us in this promise, a might that we can then make our own. That sense of freedom, of letting go, that comes when we dance, is the same sense God is giving us when we live out our Christian witness. We are dancing before the Lord, and we are dancing before the Lord in front of the world.

I can’t help but think of the song, The Lord Of The Dance. The one that describes Jesus as the mighty dancer, dancing into creation, dancing through the world as he preached, healed and loved. Jesus then danced to the cross, dancing so mightily that he danced over the grave. He is now inviting us to join his dance. This divine dance is a mighty dance – it is a dance before the Lord, and he is giving us his might to draw on. It is also a dance in front of the world. There is so much concern and hand-wringing over what other people might think when we might want to move away from the shuffle of death into the dance of life. But our dance is the dance of faith in the Lord who has promised to love us forever.

Dancing is an expression of something we feel deeply within us, that we can’t help but let out. What about your faith journey has buried itself deep within you that you hold tightly? Where is that fire that burns that makes you want to come before God? When you dance before the Lord, what kind of dancer are you? And are you dancing with all your might?