
On the Sixth Sunday After Pentecost...
Sunday, July 12, 2009
From 2 Samual, Chapter 6: 5David 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. 14David danced before the Lord with all his might; 16 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.
"Dancing For Joy" A
Sermon Preached by at the First Congregational Church of Stoughton United Church of Christ
Several years ago, a friend of mine named Jennifer received her Master of Divinity degree from Andover Newton. This joyous occasion was made even more momentous by the fact that she had slogged through eights years of seminary, taking one course at a time while raising three children. A couple of days after her graduation, I called Jennifer to see if her euphoria had abated any, and she told me that she was still so elated by finishing her degree that she had moved the furniture aside in her living room and danced for joy and thanksgiving to God. Have you ever done that – danced with sheer and utter joy? We get hints of it in sports – a football player doing a little jig in the end zone after a touchdown, or the Red Sox huddled together and jumping in unison after a big win. And there are moments in our history when people have danced for joy. When the thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution was passed, giving freedom to every slave in the country, many newly-freed African American lit bonfires, sang freedom songs, and danced for joy. When the Second World War came to an end in Europe, people throughout the Allied nations danced for joy in the streets. When the Berlin Wall came down, there were unforgettable scenes of rejoicing with crowds singing and dancing. When Saddam Hussein’s harsh 24-year reign over Iraq collapsed and ecstatic Iraqis toppled a giant statue of their deposed ruler, the people danced for joy, waving their arms and fists in the air. Dancing is a part of celebration. And no language has as many words for joy and rejoicing as does Hebrew. In the Old Testament, there are over two dozen different words used to describe some aspect of joy or joyful participation in religious worship. In today’s Scripture lesson, we see King David expressing his joy with dance, and it comes after a long period of national strife. When David was anointed king of Israel, replacing Saul, he inherited a country in tatters. Not only was Israel divided into northern and southern kingdoms, but Saul’s own son [Ish-Bosheth] launched a civil war for the throne, resulting in ugly infighting. David prevailed, however, and we see him this morning intent on making Jerusalem the reunited nation’s new political and spiritual center. To underscore that Jerusalem is to symbolize a new national unity based on trust in God, David brings to the city the very symbol of the power and presence of God -- the ark of the covenant, which once contained the stone tablets on which the Ten Commandments were written. The ark represented the very presence of God with the nation of Israel, God’s chosen people, and it was tangible evidence of God’s ongoing presence in their lives. The presence of the Ark kept God from being an abstract concept and provide the Hebrew people material evidence of not only what God had done in their past, but also of what God was still doing in their everyday lives and would continue to do in the future. Filled by the presence of God, David and his people cannot help but dance. Knowing that God is with them, they are so overcome by emotion that they bring out their musical instruments and sing and dance as they escort the ark into Jerusalem. But while David dances, his wife Michal watches him from a window in the palace tower. She considers his dancing an unkingly embarrassment, and in verse 16, we read that she despises him in her heart. According to the first book of Samuel, Michal once loved David. But that love has deteriorated into bitterness and resentment, perhaps because it was David who replaced her father, Saul, as king of Israel. And so, Michal, in the midst of the celebration, is unwilling to participate, and instead keeps her distance as an observer. At perhaps the highest point of David’s reign, as accolades are being showered upon him, there is that solitary, shadowy, embittered figure watching from the window. David is one of the Bible’s strongest personalities. Throughout the Old Testament, we see him playing his harp, writing poems, slaying giants, and fighting battles. We see his tear-streaked face when he learns of the death of his closest friend, Jonathan. We watch him on his rooftop, gazing down lustfully on the married Bathsheba. We see him commit adultery and murder. And we hear his guilty, anguished voice crying to God for life of his infant child. The scriptures do not depict David as an unblemished character or a perfect model of strength and courage. In truth, he is a terribly flawed individual with striking weaknesses. And yet, he manages to overcome the crises in his life because he gives his life over to God. David is flawed and fallen, but he is also forgiven. David knows that God is the source of his courage and strength, as well as his forgiveness and restoration, and he knows that he succeeds only by the grace of God. David knows he is completely dependent on God, he knows that the power he holds is possible only by the grace of a power greater than himself, and he knows that he owes everything to God. And in grateful jubilation to God, he dances. Indeed, in Psalm 30 [vv. 11-12], he writes, “You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever.” In grateful jubilation to God, David dances. And so can we. But first, we must be willing to let go of control of our lives. Michal held on too tightly – to the royal legacy of her father and to her own carefully laid plans for power. But David learned to give control of his life over to God, and he allowed his steps to be led by God. Oh, but it’s so hard, isn’t it? We want to follow our own steps, don’t we? Individualism, consumerism, competition – according to our society, it is these things that define who we are; the thought of yielding our power to another is counter-cultural. David grappled with these issues, too. At the high point of his career, he constantly struggled with God. Whenever he looked to himself, no matter how well-intentioned, David faltered. But whenever he sought God’s guidance, he was able to successfully lead the people. It is a paradox that it is precisely in our weakness and brokenness and vulnerability that we finally open ourselves up to God, and it is then that real blessing and grace comes to us. It is the paradox we see in Michal and David; coming from the royal house of Saul, she believes she is in control; she believes she is in a position of strength, and yet she is disempowered by her resentment and hatred. David, knowing his power and strength comes not from himself but from God, is in turn blessed by God. This reminds us of Jesus’ words that, like the royal princess, those who exalt themselves will be humbled and, like the king who began as a lowly shepherd, those who humble themselves before God will be exalted [Mt 23:12; Lk 14:11, 18:14]. If we can move from holding on to our lives to giving our lives over to God, then we can stop trying to follow our own steps and start being led by God’s steps. And when we know that someone greater than ourselves is leading the dance, we can move from just observing to joining in the dance. We can dare join in, knowing that God, with outstretched hands, gently brings us into the dance. We can dare to join in the dance with a God who does not make us self-conscious, but kindly reminds us for whom we are dancing. We can dare to join in the dance when we are not quite sure where the next step will lead us, and we can join in assured that God will hold us up and sustain us, even when our own feeble knees will not. Several years ago, a country singer by the name of Leanne Womack had a huge hit with the song, “I Hope You Dance.” Here are a few of the lyrics: I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean David knows he is blessed by God. Michal does not. For David, it’s all about praising God with joyful worship, and in grateful jubilation to God, he chooses to dance. For Michal, it’s all about reputation and appearances, and with hatred and resentment in her heart, she chooses to sit out the celebration. How about you? Are you blessed by God? Are you willing to praise God joyfully and with thanksgiving? When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance. I hope you dance. Amen.
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The New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.