![Dancing in the Shadow of God’s Wings](https://dq5pwpg1q8ru0.cloudfront.net/2024/07/18/17/17/25/e2582274-ef63-41a1-b7c6-f40fb1c39c43/Northwood%20banner.jpg)
"Dancing in The Shadow of God's Wings""
July 14, 2024 - Northwood United - Rev. Gabrielle Suedfeld - 2 Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19 & Psalm 63: Refrain 1
There is a story of two little boys who were always getting into trouble. They were late for school, they broke things, stuff that didn’t really belong to them seemed to end up in their pockets. They weren’t mean, just lively, and lacking in some common sense. What can you expect of a six and eight year old?
Their mother was at the end of her rope. She asked her priest to talk to them. Perhaps he could straighten things out.
And so they sat in the outer office of the church, and the priest called the older boy to come into his study, and sit down. Then, feeling a little uncertain about how to proceed, he decided to play it safe (from his point of view) and begin with a theological question.
“Where is God?” he asked, quietly.
The little boy wasn’t sure what to say, so he just looked at his shoes.
The priest thought he hadn’t heard, so he asked again, in a louder voice “Where is God?”
The child thought that perhaps this was a catechism question that he hadn’t learned yet, so he just shook his head.
The priest was getting nervous. “Where is God?” he shouted.
Finally, the eight year old understood. In a panic, he got up, dashed out the door, grabbed his little brother and ran with him, all the way home. When they got there, both boys went to their room, and the older boy pushed the younger one into their closet, and came in and closed the door.
“What happened?” said the little one.
“Oh, boy, are we in trouble. And this time we didn’t even do it.”
“What didn’t we do?”
“They’ve lost God, and they think we stole him!”
Today we have a story that tells what happened when God got stolen, and returned.
Traditionally, as described in the book of Exodus, the Ark of the Covenant was an elaborate construction; a box to contain the stone tablets of the law given to Moses by God. It represented, for the people in following generations, the presence of God in the midst of them. The law was not just a bunch of rules and regulations; it was the presence and Word of God which guided them in every aspect of their lives, so that they could be God’s chosen people in the wilderness.
In the early years of settlement, after the exodus was completed, the ark was kept at Shiloh, 30 km. north of Jerusalem. During the boyhood of the prophet Samuel, in a time when the people were in constant conflict with other groups, it was decided that the ark would be carried to the site of battle, so that God’s presence would ensure victory. The Philistines won the battle, and captured the ark. However, they were so terrified of its power, that seven months later, when they began to lose in battle and suffer from disease, they voluntarily brought the ark to a field within the territory of Israel, offered apologetic sacrifices, and departed.
The ark was set in the house of Abinadab, at Kiriath-jearim, for twenty years. Now, we hear that David wants to bring the ark home, to Jerusalem - his newly founded city on a hill – so that God will reside among the people and all will be well.
David has begun an integration of the wilderness tradition with the more settled existence of the monarchy. It brings a sense of balance of orthodoxy and new customs. It gives a feeling of authenticity to David’s attempts to establish his territory as a permanent centre for his kingdom.
Elaborate preparations were made to escort the ark and its contents to the new capitol. We are told that all the chosen - 30,000 people - were to make the trip. Along the way, there would be a celebration: music and dancing with joyful abandon, stopping for prayer and sacrifices of thanksgiving.
They made a new cart to carry the ark, and when the journey was over, they put the container of the law in a special tent, made more sacrifices, blessed the people, and then distributed food to all the “whole multitude of Israel.”
In 1989, I was invited to go to the village of Greenville – Laxgalts’ap – in the Nass Valley for a totem pole raising ceremony. Due to the influence of Christian missionaries, the totem poles in that village had been destroyed, and this was the first raising in 100 years. The pole was carved by people from the different clans, with symbols representing the ancient stories of their heritage.
The entire village gathered, dressed in formal regalia and best clothes. Carved out of yellow cedar, the enormous pole lay on a frame, about eighty feet long. Wooden planks were put under it, about five feet apart, and representatives from each house of the four clans would lift those planks and move the pole a few hundred feet at a time, to the final site. It was immensely heavy, and had to be put down many times on the journey.
Each time it was set down to change the group of carriers, prayers would be offered, and then children would go around distributing gifts; oranges and apples, candy, small coins. By the time the pole was in place, our pockets were stuffed, and people had offered us bags to carry the rest. It was a joyful occasion.
The heritage of the village was being re-introduced, and people could sing and tell their family stories again. There was a sense of completeness in their life now.
And yes, there was a feast that evening, and everyone was fed.
These stories may make us wonder, what it is that we need to feel whole in our faith?
Where is God?
What symbols do we really need to make our celebration of grace come alive?
What is appropriate behaviour to let God know that we are aware of that divine presence?
For the people of Israel, the physical presence of the ark, the container of the law, seemed important. David wanted it where he could get to it; it became a symbol of his power, his anointing, his relationship with God. When it was there, in the city, people would know that God was with them. And yet, we are reminded, by Howard Wallace, (Centre for Theology and Ministry, Uniting Church of Australia)
“The ark remains above all…a portable object…This portability would always stand as an affront…to any who would try to usurp the power of the ark for their own ends…for personal goals. Neither Israel nor its leaders were ever to have God in their pocket…”
Years later, when Jerusalem was destroyed, it took time for the exiles in Babylon to come to grips with this idea - Where is God? - and to realize that they had carried God with them all the time. They reinvented themselves into a culture and a faith that did not need a permanent home for God, so long as the words of the law were in some way among them.
I imagine that most of us don’t carry a Bible around with us all the time, but we probably have some symbolic way of reminding ourselves, and maybe others, that we follow that same God, the one who moves around with us and never lets us go. When you go home today, look around and see what it is that makes your home a sacred space.
And finally, we come to the parade, the place where David really lets himself go, dancing and prancing around and even throwing off most of his clothing, to the disgust of his wife Michal. Well, she had a lot to put up with, so we can hardly blame her. She was the “prize” offered by her father Saul to whomever could defeat the Philistines. David did, so he got her. Maybe she resented being objectified. Maybe her standards of appropriate royal behaviour, or decency, were just different. Maybe she was more introverted. Maybe she wanted a special invitation and some attention from her husband. Maybe she just liked to rain on everyone else’s parade.
I think there’s a little of Michal in most of us. As a denomination, we are wary of total abandon when it comes to worship. Kate Huey, a minister in the United Church of Christ, used the expression “frozen chosen.” to describe some of our worship styles. (Weekly Seeds, July 7, 2009)
“Have we tamed the gospel? How passionate is our worship, how exuberant our praise, how deep our awe at what God is doing in our lives and in the life of the world?” She quotes an ancient source, Irenaeus, “The glory of God is the human person fully alive.”
We don’t have to dance in the aisles on Sundays. We don’t have to stand outside Superstore singing hymns. We don’t need to do the “happy clappy” or anything that makes us uncomfortable. But we do need to be fully alive to glorify God.
Make no mistake about it: God is here. We have not lost our creator, redeemer, sustainer. But sometimes, maybe we abandon the holy, or turn from the sense of sacred presence. Maybe we don’t celebrate enough, even in our sorrow.
All of life is a gift from God, and approaching it with joy is a healthy way to live. It’s a dress-up occasion, everyday. It involves risk, sometimes doing a new thing, sometimes stretching the boundaries of comfort.
Being fully alive means active participation, not passive acceptance. In worship, that may mean singing, as John Wesley directs
“lustily and with a good courage.” (VU page 720)
It may mean praying with conviction, presenting your offering with purpose, immersing yourself in the holiness of communion as you come to the table, and always, always, being present in the moments of worship.
Being fully alive as a congregation means involving everyone in something, inviting people to participate in small things to get them started, making contact with a new person each week.
Being fully alive means keeping a balance between our treasures and the basics, between new ideas and tradition, and giving attention to both. And it means sharing our ever-expanding joy with others, as we live out our faith in our daily lives and service.
You don’t have to dance in the streets, scantily clothed. Please don’t! But you can’t run away and hide in the closet, either.
God isn’t lost; just waiting for you to notice. Do it now, feel it now, live it now. Dance within the shadow of God’s protective wings. Bring God home, to your heart.