7th Sunday after Pentecost--Proper 10B

7th Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 10B July 15, 2012 Several years ago when my daughter Mary Margaret was about 3 or 4, I asked her if she wanted to take dance lessons for the coming fall. Her immediate reply was, “What for? I already know how to dance!” And then she proceeded to show me her moves. Not long after that, she learned some of her friends were going to take dance lessons, so she decided she’d give it a try. She made it through almost the whole year, and at one of the last classes, I arrived to pick her up and found her sitting in the corner by herself, sulking. When I asked her what had happened, she told me that she had gotten tired of practicing the dance recital routine over and over and over again and had wanted to do her own type of dancing, but the teacher wouldn’t let her, so MM chose to go sit in the corner by herself for the rest of the class. In the dance of life, have you ever thought you already knew all the moves, or have you chosen to go sit in the corner because you couldn’t dance the way you wanted? I know I have. Dancing permeates our scripture readings for today, playing a large role in the unfolding of the drama of both the Old Testament reading and the gospel reading. In 2 Samuel, David and the people of Israel are dancing before the Lord as they lead the arc of the covenant into David’s city. They dance with joy and abandon, “with all their might” with all manner of instruments, and their dance is a dance of celebration and joy, a dance of gratitude for their special relationship with God. In the gospel reading, Herod’s daughter dances before his guests at his birthday celebration, and as a result, Herod swears an oath to her that, through some political manipulations, leads to the beheading of John the Baptist. This dance, the betrayal that goes with it, and Herod’s unwillingness to choose what is right over what is easy, all lead to the end of John’s life and sorrow and sadness for those who followed and cared for him (including Herod, himself). We, like David, like Herod, (like Mary Margaret,) are faced with the choice of how we will dance. And how we will dance in turn affects others and how they dance. I read an interesting analogy of dance and the life of the church. Imagine you are responsible for 50 teenagers, and you host a dance in the church parish hall. You step out to go get a cup of coffee, and when you return, you find this typical scene: that there are 4 or 5 girls dancing their hearts out in the middle of the parish hall and everyone else, including all the boys, are hugging the walls of the parish hall. The writer suggested that this is an analogy for the life of the church. That there are always a handful of folk out in the center dancing their hearts out, dancing the dance of the life, death, and resurrection, with joy and abandon, with celebration and community. And the rest cling to the walls of the institution, afraid or scornful or unwilling to join in the dance, staying on the threshold where it is safe and there is little to be risked or gained. Mechtild of Magdeburg, a German mystic who lived in the 13th century, had this to say about the dance that is our life and our faith and our relationship with God. “I cannot dance, O Lord,/Unless You lead me./If you wish me to leap joyfully,/Let me see You dance and sing--/Then I will leap into Love--/And from Love into Knowledge,/ And from Knowledge into the Harvest,/ That sweetest fruit beyond human sense./ There I will stay with You, whirling.” How do you choose to dance? Do you dance with joy and abandon? Do you dance in celebration of the gifts and relationship God has offered to you? Do you dance for exercise or for fun? Do you dance to manipulate or to give joy? Do you dance for community? Or do you choose not to dance at all? Is God inviting you into a new way of dancing, a new way of being, a new way of living and loving?