Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
July 12, 2009
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
Psalm 24
Ephesians 1:3-14
Mark 6:14-29
Anyone who knows me well knows this: I love to dance. I mean I LOVE to dance. Those of you have seen me dance at wedding receptions and other public events, know that I put my whole body and heart and soul into dancing. So you will not be surprised to know that when I read our scripture lessons to prepare for writing this sermon today, it was the dancing that leaped out at me.
Our Hebrew scriptures tell us the story of King David who brings the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem where it will find a safe and permanent home in the Temple, and God’s presence will once again be in the midst of them. This is a huge, historic moment for the people of Israel. It calls for an all out celebration. Scripture tells us that “all the whole house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting, and with sound of the trumpet.” And, oh yes, with something else: dancing! The writer of Samuel tells us, “David 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.” And as David leads the ark of the Lord into the city, scripture indicates that David is
leaping and dancing in his underwear, albeit his best underwear, properly decorated for the occasion.
Well, as you might guess, I love this image of David dancing (in his underwear) with all his might, putting his entire body and soul into this moment of joy and celebration. And I can only imagine that God was dancing with David and the multitude as well. Because one of the many references we have for God is “Lord of the dance.” When the dance is over, David blesses the people and then he invites the multitude, both men and women who are gathered there, to share in a feast of rich and plentiful food. And then, when the celebration is over, the revelers simply go home. But you can be sure of one thing. This story will continue to generate the joy of the dancing, the blessing and the feast of this celebration throughout the ages, whenever people read this account of it.
I wish I could say the same for the story we hear in our gospel lesson today. This is also a story of celebration and dancing, but as we know, it comes to a cruel and vindictive end. The event is King Herod’s birthday, and he has invited his courtiers and officers and the leaders of Galilee to a banquet in his honor. His daughter, Herodias (a.k.a. Salome) provides the entertainment. Now, it is obvious that Herodias is a very good dancer. She pleases Herod and his guests so much Herod vows to grant her anything she wishes if she will continue to dance for them. He even offers her half of his kingdom. Now, this must have been some dance for the King to make such a promise. The problem is Herod makes this vow publicly, in front of his guests, and now, in good faith, he must grant Herodias whatever she asks of him. And we know what Herodias asks for, and we know why she gets it. Herodias dances the dance of her life, and despite the fact that her father is “deeply grieved” by her request, it is a point of honor that he grant it in order to save face for the vow he made to his daughter, in front of his guests. Now, we all know how this story ends. Most of the sermons you will ever hear focus on the death of John the Baptist and what that means for Jesus. But today I want to focus on the people who dance and feast at these celebrations contained in both our Hebrew scripture and our gospel lesson today.
In both stories, David and Herodias dance for good purpose, but with very different reasons and very different ends. The difference is that David dances a mighty and joyful dance of life, while Herodias dances a mean and seductive dance of death. David dances to please the Lord; Herodias dances to please her father and mother.
In our gospel account Herod and his wife manipulate their innocent daughter for selfish purpose and evil intent. Herod seizes the opportunity to use Herodias to gain favor and status among his important guests by the pleasure they receive from her dancing and the generous offer he will make to her for doing it. Herod’s pride and honor will make him keep his vow to Herodias at any cost, even though her request to have the head of John the Baptist is a price seems too high. It is clear that Herod does not want to have this prophet killed; he only wants to put John in jail for a time to diminish his popularity with his followers. In fact, Herod is somewhat drawn to John; he knows he is a holy and righteous man and, if anything, he has protected him. Herod’s wife, on the other hand, wants John put to death for publicly accusing Herod of being married to her unlawfully. So, while Herod seeks familial and public peace by putting John in jail, Herodias seeks revenge for the public shame and humiliation John has subjected her to. And now Herod must have John beheaded, because it is a convenient way to honor his daughter’s request, to maintain his honor among his important friends, and satisfy his wife’s appetite for revenge.
So the question I would like us to ask is this: Where do we find ourselves in this story? Where do we see ourselves in these characters? It’s probably easiest to identify with the beheading of John the Baptist, and the use and abuse of Herodias’ innocence for evil purpose. We might remember a time when, like Herodias, someone used our talent or abused our innocence for personal pleasure or gain. We might recall a time when, like John the Baptist, we have had our own head taken off—figuratively speaking—for saying or doing the unpopular thing, but the right thing, nevertheless. This always happens to people like John who “speaking truth to power.”
But it may be a little more difficult for us to see ourselves in the person of Herod who seems to function with a “conscience of convenience.” Herod makes us look at those times we have conveniently denied our conscience for some self-seeking, self-serving end; when we could have done the right thing, but we were more compelled to do the wrong thing. It may be even more difficult to see ourselves in the person of Herod’s wife. But her actions make us recall those times when we planned strategies to manipulate or control others to satisfy our mean-spirited and self-serving desires. And like Herod’s wife, who among us has not taken advantage of an innocent child or adult to serve our own purpose. Like Herod, when have we decapitated our conscience for the sake of personal convenience?
I think we can agree, this story is hard on us when we take our focus off John the Baptist and hold ourselves up to the mirror these characters reflect to us. As we dance the dances of our own life we see ourselves dancing the dance of Herodias, the dance of Herod and the dance of Herod’s wife, feasting on our compliance with evil, feasting on the convenience of our conscience, and feasting on our desire for revenge until we realize that, in the end, the food that we eat is poison to our life and our souls, and these dance that we dance are dances of death; dances whose only purpose is to glorify us.
But thank God we hear this story of David in our lections for today. Thank God we get to see what it is like to dance with the Lord of life; the Lord of the dance. Because, while we know that David dances his dance to make a political statement, he also dances his dance to glorify God. And he takes so much joy in serving God’s purpose for his him in this moment that he leaps and dances with all his might. Thank God, because today David invites us to see ourselves in his story, as well. David’s story helps us to remember those moments of joy and celebration we have experienced in serving God’s purpose for us in our own life. Moments when we have also felt the same joy and energy which seems to transcend the limitations of language and take us to places we might not normally go to express them. Like shouting for joy, turning up the music, or dancing mightily, maybe even, perhaps, in our underwear.
Thank God for David who helps us remember our gratitude for God’s presence with us and his blessing us in this dance of life. Gratitude which goes beyond the limitations of our ability to thank him for it. Gratitude which spills over into generosity and makes us a blessing to others and a blessing to God. This story of David’s limitless joy in leading the dance of the Ark into Jerusalem, his limitless spirit in blessing his people and his limitless generosity in feeding them show us something about the ways we express our own joy, and blessing, and generosity each time we come together to celebrate the Eucharist.
As people of faith we also celebrate the presence of God in our midst in this ark of the Lord we call our church. We dance the dance of worship each Sunday with music and song which glorify God. And while I am not David, and we might not consider ourselves a multitude, God uses me to lead you in this dance, and we are part of the multitude who worship this same God throughout our world. God blesses us by our participation our liturgy of Word and Sacrament. And we are also fed by the abundance of this table before we leave to go home.
Like David, we know when we have put our whole body, and mind and spirit into worshiping the “Lord of the dance.” We know by the blessing we receive from it. The food God gives us to eat is always plentiful; all we have to do is come to this table; the cup he gives us to drink is always full; all we have to do is drink from it, the joy he puts in our heart is always there; all we have to do is participate in it, and any dance we do to glorify God only make us prosper by his glory; all we have to do is get moving.
So, let’s get moving. As we move into the part of our liturgy we call the Sacrament I would like each of us to imagine that we are David, dancing mightily as we approach this table. I would like us think of ourselves as David’s burnt offering; purified by the fire of the Spirit who brought us here today. As David blessed and was a blessing to his people, I would like us to receive God’s blessing and know that God is blesses us so that we can be a blessing to others. And as we eat this food and drink from this cup, I would like us to remember the feast David shared with all the people of Israel; and know that the food of God’s banquet always fills us with good things—spiritual food which enable us to dance the dance of life, even as others around us in our world dance the dances of evil and death. But remember this. David did not dance this dance of life alone, and we cannot dance this dance alone. We need to choose good partners to dance the dance of life. Most of all we need the Lord of life; the “Lord of the dance.”