Shall we dance?
Commentary
In both its original Japanese and later American versions the movie, Shall We
Dance? was a big hit. A lonely businessman, trapped in the repetitions of
unfulfilling work, notices a young woman gazing with forlorn sadness from a second
floor dance studio. Desperate for some change in his routine and intrigued by her wistful
solitude, the man uncharacteristically bounds out of his predetermined path and hesitantly
climbs the stairs to the school.
Although he intends merely a one-stop curiosity visit, he ends up joining a class and sneaking time away from work and home to become proficient in the craft. Along the way he has to choose: who is he -- a businessman or a dancer? Committed to his wife or a free spirit who can tickle other attractions? Firmed by the schedule or freed by the steps?
In the end, the man proves himself a marvelous dancer, and brings his wife into his stunning and passionate success. He has been liberated and transformed by the dance.
Today's lectionary passages are all about dancing. David invents new steps as he leaps before the Ark of the Lord in its journey to Jerusalem. Paul is caught up in worship of the Lord of the Dance as he plays the music of ecstasy for his Ephesian readers. And Salome wins the weirdest prize ever awarded in a dance contest.
Dancing remolds ordinary steps into graceful works of art. It also releases passions that can bring life or death.
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
David is in the groove. His winning streak is several seasons long now. After the initial media splash when he defeated Goliath, there were quite a few rocky bumps --Saul made things desperate and hellish. But now David is back on track. The scrapper has consolidated Israel and defeated the perennial Philistine pestilence. Now David reinforces his stake in Israel's game by bringing Yahweh on board as Chief of Staff.
The Ark of God was the portable throne designed to travel with Israel from its Sinai encounter with Yahweh. Exodus 20-24 is shaped as a Hittite Suzerain-Vassal treaty document, with all six parts of preamble, historical prologue, stipulations, curses and blessings, witnesses, and ratification and renewal clause. The Hittites always created two copies of their covenant documents, leaving one with the subject people and carrying the other back to the Hittite capital city. Two copies were made of the essential Sinai covenant as well, but in this case both were kept in the same location: the base of the Ark, which functioned as the foundation upon which God's throne, the "Mercy Seat," was positioned. Symbolically, this represented Yahweh's plan to live with his people, allowing both copies of the treaty document to be kept in the same location. The tabernacle was essentially the portable palace of the true ruler of Israel.
David's desire to bring the Ark into Jerusalem may have been a ploy to manipulate the Yahweh cult and make it a vassal to his own kingdom (the worst speculations on David's intents usually peg it this way). Or, on the other hand, the report in 1 Samuel 6 may in fact truly reflect David's desire to align himself with the God of the Sinai covenant and the true Ruler of Israel. Certainly the psalms that are identified with David point in this direction.
If 1 Samuel 6 is read at face value it exudes with straightforward praise about God's symbiotic relationship with Israel. God is the creator of all things, and the one who brought Israel into being and freed Israel from slavery to be established as a settled people in this land. Israel, on the other hand, is the human contingent of God's cosmic rule and the servants through whom God extends the divine kingdom into the nations of this world.
So the leaping of David has a twofold purpose. First, it announces to the people of Israel who hold him as their leader that he, in fact, is subservient to this greater Ruler, the God of the Sinai Covenant who rides into Jerusalem on his portable throne, the Ark. Second, it calls Israel into a celebration that exudes the triumph of Yahweh over the powers that have enslaved Israel. Long ago, of course, it was Pharaoh and the Egyptians. More recently, it was the pesky Philistines. Today, however, is liberation celebration, and Yahweh marches into the capital city surrounded by his victorious human armies and his adoring subjects.
Michal's sour reaction to the scene provides appropriate counterpoint confirmation. Michal does not wish her husband to be subservient to anyone; after all, just like her father Saul, he is the king and must not bow to anyone. Furthermore, celebrations like this detract from David's victories because they are now Yahweh's victories. Michal despises David and cannot dance.
A Peace Corps volunteer in Ghana recently made a marvelous report about the Presbyterian church in her village. It was established through the efforts of the Scottish Presbyterian Church nearly a century ago, and carries in its religious DNA some of the staid and rational precision of that heritage. Most songs are sung in European cadence, and the sermon is delivered with logical precision. Even the elements of worship parade in military rigor.
Except for the offering. The offering was always seen as a time for the community to bring its own expressions of worship. So, during the time allotted, people dance down the aisles with baskets of food on their heads. Children jump and laugh and sing, carrying coins in their chubby fists. Men leading goats do a double step toward the front of the meeting space, chiding their clumsy partners into a comical dance of sacrifice. Most striking, according to this eyewitness testimony, were the faces of all the people. While most of the worship services proceed with subdued and minimalist expressions, all are laughing and smiling while the offering time rolls on. Here is worship in its purest expression, wedding passions of the heart to movements of the body.
Ephesians 1:3-14
When 93 short newspaper articles of Canada's famed literary genius, Robertson Davies, were gathered and bound, the collection was called The Enthusiasms of Robertson Davies. It was a fitting title, for Robertson Davies seemed always to exude energy through his passionate reflections on life and events.
The first chapter of Paul's letter to the Ephesians might well be called The Enthusiasms of Paul. The words nearly dance off the page. The modifiers tangle till there is sometimes no clear way to separate them and point them in neat directions. The entire passage for today's consideration is actually a single serpentine sentence in the Greek language, twisting and flapping and wriggling and writhing until it looks like a cache of garter snakes uncovered among the dull mess of fall foliage.
If one were to depict Paul at the helm of an orchestra, striking the right passion among the church players, he would look far more like Leonard Bernstein than Eugene Ormandy. Bernstein actually dislocated a shoulder once or twice in the exuberance of his conducting, while Ormandy would never be accused of over emoting. Paul is emotionally wrapped up in this thing called grace and salvation and the love of God and the divine purposes.
It may be of interest to reflect on the fact that the designation "in Ephesus" in verse 1 is not found in the earliest manuscripts. It may well be that this is the letter Paul referred to in Colossians 4:16 as having landed first in the hands of the Laodicean congregation. This would make Ephesians a circular letter that was intended to be passed around the various congregations of the Lycus River valley, and it would explain why there are virtually no personal references among its pages.
Biblical scholarship continues to debate Pauline authorship, but that need not detract from the essential message of these verses as being in full harmony with the rest of scripture. The classic view of the letter is that it was written by Paul from Rome while he was under house arrest as described at the close of the Acts of the Apostles. He had been arrested in Jerusalem because a mob had caused a commotion around him and the temple precincts and the Roman authorities assumed he was the ringleader or the cause. Political uncertainties kept Paul imprisoned in Jerusalem, then Caesarea, and finally transported to Rome as he went through his appeal process. While in Rome, a runaway slave named Onesimus found him and became his fast friend. But Onesimus belonged to Paul's good acquaintance, Philemon, who lived near Colossae in Asia Minor. To ensure propriety, Paul sent Onesimus back to Philemon accompanied by Tychicus. These two carried a personal letter to Onesimus' master (Paul's epistle to Philemon), a letter of warning and encouragement to the Colossian congregation reflecting on a growing heresy in that church (Paul's epistle to the Colossians), and this circular letter that appears to have ended up in the custody of the Ephesian church.
If, indeed, this history is true, there are some striking implications for understanding today's text. First, the close parallels between Ephesians and Colossians are natural, since they were both written by Paul within a few hours or minutes of one another in preparation for Onesimus' journey home. Since the theological problem plaguing the Colossian congregation had to do with understanding, manipulating, and serving the great spiritual powers, Paul's words here in Ephesians 1 have an uncanny ring of resonance to Colossians 2. It would be well to read Colossians 2 alongside Ephesians 1 in order to increase the depth perception.
Second, these letters were written in light of the pressing implications of a master-slave relationship that was being affirmed and restored. These illumine the way in which Paul talks both about the subservience of God's people to the huge rule of the powerful One, but also about the marvelous development in that relationship in which we are "adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ" (v. 3). This is exactly the language and insight Paul uses in his letter to Philemon as slave Onesimus is to be received back as a brother because both are sons of God in Jesus Christ.
Paul's enthusiasms are stacked on top of each other in this passage. Note these things, at minimum. First, God becomes closer to us through the filial relationship of Jesus (v. 3). Second, in spite of the ruin of sin splattered all around us, there is an eternal plan of grace which trumps it at every turn (vv. 4-5). Third, salvation is a dance, not a duty (v. 6). Fourth, the cross is the turning point of history (v. 7). Fifth, forgiveness brings new vistas of experience and enjoyment (v. 8). Sixth, we can see the eternal plans of God already, even though they still need to be worked out in their finality (vv. 9-10). Seventh, salvation is a great dance with powerful music and a wonderful band leader: the Holy Spirit (vv. 11-14).
Joni Eareckson-Tada, the well-known paralytic messenger of grace, expressed well where Paul ends up in this passage. She said, "I have hope in the future. The Bible speaks about bodies being glorified. I know the meaning of that now. It's the time after my death here when I, the quadriplegic, will be on my feet dancing."
Perhaps some of the dance could begin this week in our worship services. Maybe even we should sing, as one of our testimonial hymns, Leanne Womack's hit, "I Hope You Dance."
Mark 6:14-29
A Hassidic story tells of the triumph described in Exodus where the Israelites are saved by the miracle of the parting Red Sea and the armies of Pharaoh are drowned. As the Israelites strike up a party and sing the songs written by Moses, Miriam, and others (see Exodus 15), a wild day of dance erupts among the angels of heaven as well. Everyone is cheering.
Everyone, that is, except God. During the height of the celebration one angel notices God's unusual absence. He sidles up to archangel Michael to check things out. "Where is God?" he asks. "This is his party; he should be in the middle of it!"
But Michael demurs. "Carry on," he urges the angels. "This is indeed a day of victory and celebration. But don't look for God around here. He has gone off by himself for a little while to mourn. You see, although God's special people Israel were saved, many of God's other children tonight are mourning, and God shares their tears."
There are truly mixed signals in the Gospel Reading for today. Amid the high frivolity of a royal party flows the red streak of John's blood. Herod was intrigued by John, the last of the prophets in the great Old Testament tradition. Yet, he feared John because John spoke judgment against Herod's own family. Herod had killed his own brother in order to marry Philip's wife. John never minced words when it came to pointing out sin.
Herod seems to have been a somewhat timid soul, afraid of John, but even more afraid of the God John seemed so convinced about. He had John arrested as a sign of his displeasure in John's accusatory words. But he did not go so far as to have John executed. Perhaps the people would rebel, for many of them saw in John a divine messenger. Perhaps the God of John would exact a pound of vengeance if his servant was harmed.
But that all changed on the day of this festival. Herodias, former wife of Philip and current wife of Herod, did not appreciate John's intimidating haranguing. So, when the wine flowed and her daughter danced to please the men, and Herod stupidly shouted out a promise to give the pretty young twirler anything she asked, Herodias was right on the spot. Through her daughter she demanded the death of John. Foolishly, Herod complied in order to save face -- his, and in quite a different way, John's.
Notice that Mark tells this story as a sort of flashback interjection. The story of Jesus is entering a new and more public phase in chapter 6, with Jesus expanding his ministry of healing through the mission of the twelve. Verse 30 follows immediately on verse 13, with verses 14-29 thrown in between as an aside (telling of Herod's superstitious reaction) and an interpretive recapitulation (explaining how Herod's fear of Jesus had evolved through the awful events of John's death).
The dance in Mark 6:14-29 is the dance of death. But surrounding it, in the stories of healing emitting from Jesus' miraculous ministry, are the dances of delight and life.
Application
Calvin Miller created a trilogy of poems years ago called The Singer, The Song, and The Finale. The Singer gave a marvelous reflection on God creating the world. Most striking was its use of the metaphor of song as the creative energy that produced all living things in a harmonious chorus. Sin, of course, was a dissonant counterpoint, messing up the good chords and creating squeaks and squawks that irritated. The Song was Miller's way of telling the life of Jesus. When the music of creating had been too far muted, the Singer sent the Song into the world to revive the right melodies. The Finale, of course, was a crescendo of conflict that depicted scenes from the book of Revelation. While the Song was strong, so, too, were its competitive recitatives. In the end, to be sure, the Song won the day, and any dissonance was banished to whimper in eternal night.
Miller's theme emerged from some reflections on Sydney Carter's famous song, "Lord Of The Dance." Jesus is the great musician, in Carter's hymn, who leaps and dances from creation through consummation. He is the one who dances with the monkey of legalism on his back. He is the victorious ballet artist who erupts from Easter's tomb. And he is the choreographer of the great dance of creation that is winding up for its never-ending finale.
Today, it might be good to infuse into worship some of the dancing motifs that brought David to leap before the Lord and caused Paul to rise in ecstasy. Perhaps the morning of worship could end with a grand rendition of "Love Divine, All Love's Excelling."
Alternative Application
Ephesians 1:3-14. The themes of Ephesians 1:3-14 almost cry out for extended treatment. It might be well, today, to build a message that had a kind of energizing repetition to it. Perhaps something along the lines of Tony Campolo's wonderful tale, "It's Friday, But Sunday's a-Comin'" might do it.
Care should be taken not to dwell on the arguments of biblical scholars about whether or not Ephesians is an authentic letter of Paul. This is not necessary. The letter is part of the scriptures received by the church for edification, and its themes are consistent with the larger message of the whole.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 24
It is an easily embraced equation. If you're good, you go to heaven. If you're bad, you go -- well -- you know where. It is precisely this notion that the psalmist here appeals to when we hear who it is that gets to "ascend the hill of the Lord." Wouldn't it be wonderful if this were true? The good, the upright, the just get to be with God. Those who don't lie, cheat, or steal get to "stand in God's holy place," and "receive a blessing" from God. The only problem is that it's not true.
Writings like this bring out the cynic in our twenty-first-century hearts. Were things different when this writer was scratching the words onto parchment? No. Things were not different. And if we pay attention to our story, we know that the psalmist -- though well intentioned -- is missing some important details. Jacob, in a deal that would be the envy of any oil baron, took Esau's birthright for a bowl of soup. Moses, wanted for murder, led the people across the Sinai. And Paul, chief pursuer of the followers of the way, became himself an apostle.
Who is it that gets to go up that hill? It turns out that it's not the good ones. In fact, the good ones sometimes get short shrift. After all, Job was "blameless" (Job 1:1), wasn't he? And let's not forget the holy innocents who died at the point of Herod's sword while Jesus escaped into Egypt.
There's no getting round it. God seeks out the frail, the broken, the fallen, and bids them step up to the plate. God reaches out and seizes the heart of a prostitute or a tax collector and invites them to table.
So what's the deal? If God is on the lookout for human wreckage, what motivation have we to be upright and good? If a thief can enter paradise at Jesus' side, why are we wasting our time being truthful, just, and honest? Are we to "sin that grace may abound"? (Romans 6:1).
For us, the answer is found in the voice of Jesus who said that those who are well have no need of a physician (Luke 5:31). God seeks out those whose hearts need healing. The uplifting of the downtrodden does not excuse us from God's call to be just and true. We do not enter into faith as a business transaction, bartering with God for favors based on good behavior. No. We step into faith and follow, not seeking results nor looking for reward, but in all things discerning and trying our level best to do God's will. God will deal with all the others in God's own way and God's own time. And the rest of us will stand where we have always tried to stand -- on the "promises of God our Savior."
Although he intends merely a one-stop curiosity visit, he ends up joining a class and sneaking time away from work and home to become proficient in the craft. Along the way he has to choose: who is he -- a businessman or a dancer? Committed to his wife or a free spirit who can tickle other attractions? Firmed by the schedule or freed by the steps?
In the end, the man proves himself a marvelous dancer, and brings his wife into his stunning and passionate success. He has been liberated and transformed by the dance.
Today's lectionary passages are all about dancing. David invents new steps as he leaps before the Ark of the Lord in its journey to Jerusalem. Paul is caught up in worship of the Lord of the Dance as he plays the music of ecstasy for his Ephesian readers. And Salome wins the weirdest prize ever awarded in a dance contest.
Dancing remolds ordinary steps into graceful works of art. It also releases passions that can bring life or death.
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
David is in the groove. His winning streak is several seasons long now. After the initial media splash when he defeated Goliath, there were quite a few rocky bumps --Saul made things desperate and hellish. But now David is back on track. The scrapper has consolidated Israel and defeated the perennial Philistine pestilence. Now David reinforces his stake in Israel's game by bringing Yahweh on board as Chief of Staff.
The Ark of God was the portable throne designed to travel with Israel from its Sinai encounter with Yahweh. Exodus 20-24 is shaped as a Hittite Suzerain-Vassal treaty document, with all six parts of preamble, historical prologue, stipulations, curses and blessings, witnesses, and ratification and renewal clause. The Hittites always created two copies of their covenant documents, leaving one with the subject people and carrying the other back to the Hittite capital city. Two copies were made of the essential Sinai covenant as well, but in this case both were kept in the same location: the base of the Ark, which functioned as the foundation upon which God's throne, the "Mercy Seat," was positioned. Symbolically, this represented Yahweh's plan to live with his people, allowing both copies of the treaty document to be kept in the same location. The tabernacle was essentially the portable palace of the true ruler of Israel.
David's desire to bring the Ark into Jerusalem may have been a ploy to manipulate the Yahweh cult and make it a vassal to his own kingdom (the worst speculations on David's intents usually peg it this way). Or, on the other hand, the report in 1 Samuel 6 may in fact truly reflect David's desire to align himself with the God of the Sinai covenant and the true Ruler of Israel. Certainly the psalms that are identified with David point in this direction.
If 1 Samuel 6 is read at face value it exudes with straightforward praise about God's symbiotic relationship with Israel. God is the creator of all things, and the one who brought Israel into being and freed Israel from slavery to be established as a settled people in this land. Israel, on the other hand, is the human contingent of God's cosmic rule and the servants through whom God extends the divine kingdom into the nations of this world.
So the leaping of David has a twofold purpose. First, it announces to the people of Israel who hold him as their leader that he, in fact, is subservient to this greater Ruler, the God of the Sinai Covenant who rides into Jerusalem on his portable throne, the Ark. Second, it calls Israel into a celebration that exudes the triumph of Yahweh over the powers that have enslaved Israel. Long ago, of course, it was Pharaoh and the Egyptians. More recently, it was the pesky Philistines. Today, however, is liberation celebration, and Yahweh marches into the capital city surrounded by his victorious human armies and his adoring subjects.
Michal's sour reaction to the scene provides appropriate counterpoint confirmation. Michal does not wish her husband to be subservient to anyone; after all, just like her father Saul, he is the king and must not bow to anyone. Furthermore, celebrations like this detract from David's victories because they are now Yahweh's victories. Michal despises David and cannot dance.
A Peace Corps volunteer in Ghana recently made a marvelous report about the Presbyterian church in her village. It was established through the efforts of the Scottish Presbyterian Church nearly a century ago, and carries in its religious DNA some of the staid and rational precision of that heritage. Most songs are sung in European cadence, and the sermon is delivered with logical precision. Even the elements of worship parade in military rigor.
Except for the offering. The offering was always seen as a time for the community to bring its own expressions of worship. So, during the time allotted, people dance down the aisles with baskets of food on their heads. Children jump and laugh and sing, carrying coins in their chubby fists. Men leading goats do a double step toward the front of the meeting space, chiding their clumsy partners into a comical dance of sacrifice. Most striking, according to this eyewitness testimony, were the faces of all the people. While most of the worship services proceed with subdued and minimalist expressions, all are laughing and smiling while the offering time rolls on. Here is worship in its purest expression, wedding passions of the heart to movements of the body.
Ephesians 1:3-14
When 93 short newspaper articles of Canada's famed literary genius, Robertson Davies, were gathered and bound, the collection was called The Enthusiasms of Robertson Davies. It was a fitting title, for Robertson Davies seemed always to exude energy through his passionate reflections on life and events.
The first chapter of Paul's letter to the Ephesians might well be called The Enthusiasms of Paul. The words nearly dance off the page. The modifiers tangle till there is sometimes no clear way to separate them and point them in neat directions. The entire passage for today's consideration is actually a single serpentine sentence in the Greek language, twisting and flapping and wriggling and writhing until it looks like a cache of garter snakes uncovered among the dull mess of fall foliage.
If one were to depict Paul at the helm of an orchestra, striking the right passion among the church players, he would look far more like Leonard Bernstein than Eugene Ormandy. Bernstein actually dislocated a shoulder once or twice in the exuberance of his conducting, while Ormandy would never be accused of over emoting. Paul is emotionally wrapped up in this thing called grace and salvation and the love of God and the divine purposes.
It may be of interest to reflect on the fact that the designation "in Ephesus" in verse 1 is not found in the earliest manuscripts. It may well be that this is the letter Paul referred to in Colossians 4:16 as having landed first in the hands of the Laodicean congregation. This would make Ephesians a circular letter that was intended to be passed around the various congregations of the Lycus River valley, and it would explain why there are virtually no personal references among its pages.
Biblical scholarship continues to debate Pauline authorship, but that need not detract from the essential message of these verses as being in full harmony with the rest of scripture. The classic view of the letter is that it was written by Paul from Rome while he was under house arrest as described at the close of the Acts of the Apostles. He had been arrested in Jerusalem because a mob had caused a commotion around him and the temple precincts and the Roman authorities assumed he was the ringleader or the cause. Political uncertainties kept Paul imprisoned in Jerusalem, then Caesarea, and finally transported to Rome as he went through his appeal process. While in Rome, a runaway slave named Onesimus found him and became his fast friend. But Onesimus belonged to Paul's good acquaintance, Philemon, who lived near Colossae in Asia Minor. To ensure propriety, Paul sent Onesimus back to Philemon accompanied by Tychicus. These two carried a personal letter to Onesimus' master (Paul's epistle to Philemon), a letter of warning and encouragement to the Colossian congregation reflecting on a growing heresy in that church (Paul's epistle to the Colossians), and this circular letter that appears to have ended up in the custody of the Ephesian church.
If, indeed, this history is true, there are some striking implications for understanding today's text. First, the close parallels between Ephesians and Colossians are natural, since they were both written by Paul within a few hours or minutes of one another in preparation for Onesimus' journey home. Since the theological problem plaguing the Colossian congregation had to do with understanding, manipulating, and serving the great spiritual powers, Paul's words here in Ephesians 1 have an uncanny ring of resonance to Colossians 2. It would be well to read Colossians 2 alongside Ephesians 1 in order to increase the depth perception.
Second, these letters were written in light of the pressing implications of a master-slave relationship that was being affirmed and restored. These illumine the way in which Paul talks both about the subservience of God's people to the huge rule of the powerful One, but also about the marvelous development in that relationship in which we are "adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ" (v. 3). This is exactly the language and insight Paul uses in his letter to Philemon as slave Onesimus is to be received back as a brother because both are sons of God in Jesus Christ.
Paul's enthusiasms are stacked on top of each other in this passage. Note these things, at minimum. First, God becomes closer to us through the filial relationship of Jesus (v. 3). Second, in spite of the ruin of sin splattered all around us, there is an eternal plan of grace which trumps it at every turn (vv. 4-5). Third, salvation is a dance, not a duty (v. 6). Fourth, the cross is the turning point of history (v. 7). Fifth, forgiveness brings new vistas of experience and enjoyment (v. 8). Sixth, we can see the eternal plans of God already, even though they still need to be worked out in their finality (vv. 9-10). Seventh, salvation is a great dance with powerful music and a wonderful band leader: the Holy Spirit (vv. 11-14).
Joni Eareckson-Tada, the well-known paralytic messenger of grace, expressed well where Paul ends up in this passage. She said, "I have hope in the future. The Bible speaks about bodies being glorified. I know the meaning of that now. It's the time after my death here when I, the quadriplegic, will be on my feet dancing."
Perhaps some of the dance could begin this week in our worship services. Maybe even we should sing, as one of our testimonial hymns, Leanne Womack's hit, "I Hope You Dance."
Mark 6:14-29
A Hassidic story tells of the triumph described in Exodus where the Israelites are saved by the miracle of the parting Red Sea and the armies of Pharaoh are drowned. As the Israelites strike up a party and sing the songs written by Moses, Miriam, and others (see Exodus 15), a wild day of dance erupts among the angels of heaven as well. Everyone is cheering.
Everyone, that is, except God. During the height of the celebration one angel notices God's unusual absence. He sidles up to archangel Michael to check things out. "Where is God?" he asks. "This is his party; he should be in the middle of it!"
But Michael demurs. "Carry on," he urges the angels. "This is indeed a day of victory and celebration. But don't look for God around here. He has gone off by himself for a little while to mourn. You see, although God's special people Israel were saved, many of God's other children tonight are mourning, and God shares their tears."
There are truly mixed signals in the Gospel Reading for today. Amid the high frivolity of a royal party flows the red streak of John's blood. Herod was intrigued by John, the last of the prophets in the great Old Testament tradition. Yet, he feared John because John spoke judgment against Herod's own family. Herod had killed his own brother in order to marry Philip's wife. John never minced words when it came to pointing out sin.
Herod seems to have been a somewhat timid soul, afraid of John, but even more afraid of the God John seemed so convinced about. He had John arrested as a sign of his displeasure in John's accusatory words. But he did not go so far as to have John executed. Perhaps the people would rebel, for many of them saw in John a divine messenger. Perhaps the God of John would exact a pound of vengeance if his servant was harmed.
But that all changed on the day of this festival. Herodias, former wife of Philip and current wife of Herod, did not appreciate John's intimidating haranguing. So, when the wine flowed and her daughter danced to please the men, and Herod stupidly shouted out a promise to give the pretty young twirler anything she asked, Herodias was right on the spot. Through her daughter she demanded the death of John. Foolishly, Herod complied in order to save face -- his, and in quite a different way, John's.
Notice that Mark tells this story as a sort of flashback interjection. The story of Jesus is entering a new and more public phase in chapter 6, with Jesus expanding his ministry of healing through the mission of the twelve. Verse 30 follows immediately on verse 13, with verses 14-29 thrown in between as an aside (telling of Herod's superstitious reaction) and an interpretive recapitulation (explaining how Herod's fear of Jesus had evolved through the awful events of John's death).
The dance in Mark 6:14-29 is the dance of death. But surrounding it, in the stories of healing emitting from Jesus' miraculous ministry, are the dances of delight and life.
Application
Calvin Miller created a trilogy of poems years ago called The Singer, The Song, and The Finale. The Singer gave a marvelous reflection on God creating the world. Most striking was its use of the metaphor of song as the creative energy that produced all living things in a harmonious chorus. Sin, of course, was a dissonant counterpoint, messing up the good chords and creating squeaks and squawks that irritated. The Song was Miller's way of telling the life of Jesus. When the music of creating had been too far muted, the Singer sent the Song into the world to revive the right melodies. The Finale, of course, was a crescendo of conflict that depicted scenes from the book of Revelation. While the Song was strong, so, too, were its competitive recitatives. In the end, to be sure, the Song won the day, and any dissonance was banished to whimper in eternal night.
Miller's theme emerged from some reflections on Sydney Carter's famous song, "Lord Of The Dance." Jesus is the great musician, in Carter's hymn, who leaps and dances from creation through consummation. He is the one who dances with the monkey of legalism on his back. He is the victorious ballet artist who erupts from Easter's tomb. And he is the choreographer of the great dance of creation that is winding up for its never-ending finale.
Today, it might be good to infuse into worship some of the dancing motifs that brought David to leap before the Lord and caused Paul to rise in ecstasy. Perhaps the morning of worship could end with a grand rendition of "Love Divine, All Love's Excelling."
Alternative Application
Ephesians 1:3-14. The themes of Ephesians 1:3-14 almost cry out for extended treatment. It might be well, today, to build a message that had a kind of energizing repetition to it. Perhaps something along the lines of Tony Campolo's wonderful tale, "It's Friday, But Sunday's a-Comin'" might do it.
Care should be taken not to dwell on the arguments of biblical scholars about whether or not Ephesians is an authentic letter of Paul. This is not necessary. The letter is part of the scriptures received by the church for edification, and its themes are consistent with the larger message of the whole.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 24
It is an easily embraced equation. If you're good, you go to heaven. If you're bad, you go -- well -- you know where. It is precisely this notion that the psalmist here appeals to when we hear who it is that gets to "ascend the hill of the Lord." Wouldn't it be wonderful if this were true? The good, the upright, the just get to be with God. Those who don't lie, cheat, or steal get to "stand in God's holy place," and "receive a blessing" from God. The only problem is that it's not true.
Writings like this bring out the cynic in our twenty-first-century hearts. Were things different when this writer was scratching the words onto parchment? No. Things were not different. And if we pay attention to our story, we know that the psalmist -- though well intentioned -- is missing some important details. Jacob, in a deal that would be the envy of any oil baron, took Esau's birthright for a bowl of soup. Moses, wanted for murder, led the people across the Sinai. And Paul, chief pursuer of the followers of the way, became himself an apostle.
Who is it that gets to go up that hill? It turns out that it's not the good ones. In fact, the good ones sometimes get short shrift. After all, Job was "blameless" (Job 1:1), wasn't he? And let's not forget the holy innocents who died at the point of Herod's sword while Jesus escaped into Egypt.
There's no getting round it. God seeks out the frail, the broken, the fallen, and bids them step up to the plate. God reaches out and seizes the heart of a prostitute or a tax collector and invites them to table.
So what's the deal? If God is on the lookout for human wreckage, what motivation have we to be upright and good? If a thief can enter paradise at Jesus' side, why are we wasting our time being truthful, just, and honest? Are we to "sin that grace may abound"? (Romans 6:1).
For us, the answer is found in the voice of Jesus who said that those who are well have no need of a physician (Luke 5:31). God seeks out those whose hearts need healing. The uplifting of the downtrodden does not excuse us from God's call to be just and true. We do not enter into faith as a business transaction, bartering with God for favors based on good behavior. No. We step into faith and follow, not seeking results nor looking for reward, but in all things discerning and trying our level best to do God's will. God will deal with all the others in God's own way and God's own time. And the rest of us will stand where we have always tried to stand -- on the "promises of God our Savior."
