Beware A…Void…Dance
Sermon by Mother Deby Adinolfi
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-14, Ephesians 1:3-14, Mark 6:14-29
Good morning. So, what did you think about our reading from 2 Samuel this morning? Were you able to picture that imagery? I'd like to try something this morning. I am going to need your help. I'd like you to close your eyes for a moment, but I don't want you to fall asleep. I want you to do this because I want your imagination to soar.
Think about what we heard. David and his crew were carrying the Ark of God. You know, the Ark of the Covenant. Think Indiana Jones. So David and his crew are filled with awe and love of God and are in this amazing procession with the Ark of God. There is music and there is dancing. There is joy and love of, and for, God. They were carrying on like nobody's business; dancing and singing and rejoicing in their God as they pulled the cart that held the Ark. When they came into town all of the town's people were staring at them wondering what on earth was going on. Worse, David's wife Michal, daughter of Saul, was embarrassed by it. At least I'm gonna make a guess at that. And turned her nose up at the whole procession and in the author's words, she despised him in her heart.
Okay, so go ahead and open your eyes back up. Let's take a breath and let's give this a think. Is it a bit difficult to imagine David's procession? How many of you have been involved in a church procession that was outside of the church grounds? All right. I have, both here in the States and in Cambridge. And for those of you that haven't participated or seen this, did you know that it really is a deep part of our Episcopal and Anglican heritage? I was a member of Holy Faith in Santa Fe, one of the preeminent parish churches near the historic downtown plaza. Every Palm Sunday, all of the downtown churches would join together, each parish church processing into the plaza for a joint blessing to commence Holy Week.
It was amazing. I participated as an acolyte and I participated as a parishioner. And during my training in Cambridge, I was introduced to a number of parish and college chapel activities, all quite unique, but including processions for various Holy Days. Those were pretty amazing complete with choirs and banners. I'm sharing this with you because I do know that within our Saint Alban’s family, we have a lot of different experiences of being an Episcopalian, and I realized that for many, what occurred in our reading today from Samuel might be something that's way out of your comfort zones. The dancing, singing and the procession probably aren't something that many of you would be comfortable doing.
But there is more to today's reading than David's display of love and joy for God. For me, what really resonates is the last paragraph, because it is here that we really see the outcome of all of that love and joy for God. David did something wonderful. He gave food to the whole multitude of Israel. He provided both the space for worship, as well as food for the congregation. He used his position for the good of his people, for justice for his people. And it is here in this last part that we begin to fully encounter God's presence. And this encounter gives us something to dance about.
But I wonder if, for many reading this lesson for the first time, it might be packed full of emotions. Emotions that are so strong it's like experiencing walking into a minefield. Does this type of public display of dance fever evoke painful memories from school? Or worse, do we as a congregation have the ability to quash someone else's joy-filled procession or creative ideas by being close-minded when others are trying something different? I believe that the heart of today's message from Samuel has more to tell us than folks could imagine.
I believe it addresses how we deal with change, but also, how we deal with each other, with the differences between us. We move from 2 Samuel into today's gospel with Mark, and oh wow, the imagery here really is pretty intense, isn't it? Salome is pretty infamous, and Hollywood has been quite creative in how she has been portrayed. And then there is Herod.
Herod was the son of Herod the Great, who was by all accounts a far superior leader than his son. And Herod's court appears to be one that was filled with debauchery, with graft, and with lies. We have clear imagery of all of that within this passage.
And for me, a priest trained in pastoral counseling and care, I wonder how that family became so broken. The politics of that time were, I'm bold to say, as much of a mess as politics today. Herod was, in essence, a puppet king, as it was Rome that was in charge.
Herod is most likely conscious of the social perceptions surrounding his reign, understanding that he is being compared to greater rulers than he. He was stuck in the web of politics, which I imagine can be a lot like being in parish ministry some days, for we priests too are often stuck or caught within the web of the family dynamics of parish ministry; and that can present some real challenges to rectors and priests in charge, because it makes helping parish leadership introduce change far more difficult than it should be. And I wonder if this doesn't all boil down to fear of the unknown.
In weaving this reading into what we heard from 2 Samuel, I'm struck by the undercurrent of fear: fear of the other, fear of something new, fear of the unknown. When we look at our modern world and then contemplate how these readings either tie into or help make sense of it, for me, I find myself again thinking about the harm done, sometimes intentionally and sometimes unintentionally, because we are fearful of the unknown, fearful of trying something new.
It requires such a very deep faith in God to let go of our preconceived notions of faith and how our Sunday church services should be, to even begin to think about how things could be done differently. So let me put a question to you. How do you think that you would respond if folks suddenly got up and started to dance in our aisles to praise God? Right? Or maybe using significantly different music or liturgy? What would happen if we moved our Sunday service out of our sanctuary and into the parish hall or later in the year after it has cooled down, out to the courtyard? Or what would happen if we switched to guitars and drums for our music using modern Christian music rather than our beloved hymnal? Would any of these changes actually diminish worshiping God? Or would it simply be that it makes us all uncomfortable at trying something different? There are as many ways to worship and lift our voices and glory to God as there are people, and each one is worthy and important and equal to how we have always done it here.
And that is the point that Michal, David's wife, missed when she watched her husband dance around the Ark of the Covenant. Herod's dilemma was a bit different, but it too revolves around speaking truth to power and standing up for what is right, what matters most, of going against the tide of public opinion, of doing what is right in the eyes of God rather than what is deemed right by the glitterati. My friends, I believe that we are called, as part of our faith journey, to profess God's love and amplify the works of Jesus.
We do this by our actions, using our hands, our feet, and our hearts. But we also do this by welcoming in the stranger, by listening to the ideas of others, and being willing to have honest conversations about what faith means and how we practice that faith. We have an amazing opportunity here at St. Albans to reimagine who and how we are, and that work has already begun, to work together for the greater good and to share our willingness to embrace change as we walk into the future.
But let's not just walk, let's show our love of and for God by lifting our voices in song and learning a new dance step or two as we work together to solidify the future of our beloved community here at St. Albans.
