“When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.” (Mark Sanders)

Psalm 30

July 25, 2010

Good Baptists Don’t Dance

Today’s sermon title, “How to Dance,” would not have been used in the church of my youth – EVER.  But it’s very appropriate for Psalm 30, one of the Bible’s dancing passages.

In the Baptist church of my adolescence, dancing was in the same category with smoking, drinking, long hair, rock music, and movies.  Good Christians didn’t do those worldly things, and I wanted to be (and still want to be) a good Christian.

Opinions were strong.  Do you know why Baptists are opposed to premarital sex?  Because it might lead to dancing.

They do have a point, of course.  Many forms of social dancing are sensual.  And I’m still not in favor of inciting lust between people who are not married to each other.  I still believe a “good Christian” should be extremely prudent.

Where we went wrong was (1) trying to live the Christian life by observing a set of do’s and don’ts, (2) failing to make any distinction between different kinds of dances or even who’s dancing with whom (I don’t know if anyone ever said this, but my understanding at the time was it didn’t even matter if you were married and dancing at home – the “d” word was off limits, and (3) totally overlooking the rather obvious point that the Bible itself gives dancing a lot more good press than bad.

The dancing part is at the end, but let’s go through the psalm section by section.  The whole psalm lends itself to some important lessons about dancing – timing, rhythm, insecurity, trust, and movement.

Timing  (vv.1-3)

Dancing is all about timing – not only while you’re dancing but when you choose to dance.  You can’t dance ALL the time.  You have to grab the opportunities that come your way.  Dance when the moment is right. 

A psalm.  A song.  For the dedication of the temple.  Of David.

 ¹ I will exalt you, O LORD,
       for you lifted me out of the depths (like a bucket lifted from a well)
       and did not let my enemies gloat over me.

 ² O LORD my God, I called to you for help
       and you healed me (the first person singular may be “collective”).

 ³ O LORD, you brought me up from the grave;
       you spared me from going down into the pit.

There are several possibilities of how this Psalm came to be.  I don’t know whether this one is the most likely or just my favorite. 

It was late in King David’s life and reign.  He had won most of his battles, and those he lost (morally, politically, militarily) he had found a way to put behind him.  David’s kingdom was secure and his family was stable.

What’s a king to do in his twilight?  1 Chronicles says Satan incited David to count his soldiers, even against the advice of Joab, his longtime general (21:1-4).  1 Chronicles says Joab was “repulsed” by David’s decision (6) and God saw the census as “evil” (7).  It was all about pride.  So  David asked God to forgive him (8).

God did forgive him, but David still had to suffer consequences.  The Lord gave David choices: three years of famine, three months of military defeats, or three days of the plague (12).  David chose the latter, because, he said, “Let me fall into the hands of the LORD, for his mercy is very great; but do not let me fall into the hands of men” (13).

The Lord sent a plague, and 70,000 Israelite men died.  As David had believed, it was God’s compassion that moved him to end the epidemic, which apparently had been spreading in a rather orderly fashion.  The plague ended on top of the highest point in Jerusalem, a threshing floor owned by a man named Araunah (15).  It was the same place where Abraham had come very close to killing his son Isaac on Mt. Moriah.

David pleaded with God to make the pause in the plague permanent, and God did so, but told David to build an altar on that site.  So David went to Araunah and offered to buy the land.  Araunah answered, “Take it!  You can have grain, wood, wheat, everything.  It’s all yours at no cost” (23, paraphrase).

David answered, “No, I insist on paying the full price.  I will not take for the LORD what is yours, or sacrifice a burnt offering that costs me nothing” (24).

David bought the land, built the altar, made the sacrifice, and planned for the future temple to be built on that same site. 

If Psalm 30 was indeed written on this occasion, it seems David himself may have been smitten by the plague and almost died.  But he recovered.  It was a moment that called for dancing – for celebration, for music, for movement, for exalting God.  David didn’t let the moment pass.  David wrote a poem to be sung at the dedication when Solomon would complete the temple a generation later. He wanted the temple itself to be a reminder that when life gives you a reason to celebrate, dance!  It’s a matter of timing. 

Rhythm (vv. 4-5)

Each year during Confirmation classes I ask our kids to visit a church of a different denomination with their adult partner, and then write an essay about the experience.  Last year one of the kids who visited an African American congregation wrote, “They only beat us in one thing.  Staying on beat.”  Pastor Paul is fond of saying that in worship you need to clap or stomp or move – even if you’re white.

Rhythm doesn’t come as naturally to some of us, but finding a way to “stay on beat” is important to dancing.

 ⁴ Sing to the LORD, you saints of his;
       praise his holy name.

 ⁵ For his anger lasts only a moment,
       but his favor lasts a lifetime;
       weeping may remain for a night,
       but rejoicing comes in the morning.

Verse 5 is more poetic in Hebrew, even rhythmic if you translate it literally into English:  “A moment in his anger, life in his favor….”  The last part of the verse implies this rhythm as almost daily – weeping for a night, rejoicing in the morning. 

Rhythm is about sound and rest.  The sound in music can be tone or percussion.  But you can’t have either constantly.  (Peter, play one note on the organ and just hold it there.)  Dancing as well (best I can observe) is not constant movement – unless you’re Celtic.  Even then there’s up and down.

Life is like that.  What are you now – up or down?  If you’re up, be ready – what goes up must come down.  If you’re down, don’t despair.  What goes down must come up.  And when it does, dance!

Insecurity (vv. 6-7)

There’s a television show running right now called “So You Think You Can Dance.”  Not everyone can.  If you don’t believe me, Google “Dancing Mistakes.”  “Mistakes would be an understatement.  My favorite on the YouTube video I watched was probably the guy who was going to dance upside down on a stool with a wicker seat.  His head went right through the seat.

 ⁶ When I felt secure, I said,
       “I will never be shaken.”

 ⁷ O LORD, when you favored me,
       you made my mountain stand firm;
       but when you hid your face,
       I was dismayed.

I asked my men’s Bible study on Thursday what gives them a sense of security.  One person said, “constancy.”   He means that we go through life thinking everything will be what is now.  If nothing changes – or changes much – I’m happy.

Hello!  Life’s not always going to be like that.  A hint of nerves actually helps a dancer – it helps concentration.  Overconfidence is overrated. 

So what is it in life that makes you overconfident about the wrong things?  David tells his story to remind us that in spite of all the setbacks of his life, he had a moment, too, when he thought everything had turned around.  He had become invincible in every way.  It was just before the arrogance took control and the plague hit.  A little of the right kind of insecurity turns into great dancing.

Trust (v. 8-10)

This is the most honest part of the psalm, as David returns to the terror he had felt knowing he, too, could have died from this plague.

 ⁸ To you, O LORD, I called;
       to the Lord I cried for mercy:

 ⁹ “What gain is there in my destruction,
       in my going down into the pit?
       Will the dust praise you?
       Will it proclaim your faithfulness?

 ¹⁰ Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me;
       O LORD, be my help.”

There’s something about this part of the psalm that troubles me as a Christian.  David seems to imply that if he died, it would be all over.  This is very different from the Apostle Paul saying, “For me to live is Christ; to die is gain.”  The only thing I can say is that David doesn’t seem that advanced yet in his thinking about God and eternal life.

He is, on the other hand, very honest.  “Gain” (9) is an economic word:  “What profit is there to you if I die?”

But I really love is that last verse of this section (10) when David says, “Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me; O LORD, be my help.”  I may not be a dancer, but I’ve seen enough, heard enough, and read enough to know that you have to trust your partner.  Whether you lead or follow, you just have to let go.

In life your partner is the Lord.  Let him lead.  Even on the days of disappointment, let him be God.  Tell him what you’re feeling, but then tell him you’re still his.

Movement (vv. 11-12)

 ¹¹ You turned my wailing into dancing;
       you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

 ¹² that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.
       O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.

I love how this closes, because he doesn’t say you turned my wailing into quietness.  Or you replaced my sackcloth with a polo shirt.  No, my life has turned into a ball.  My mourning clothes have been replaced by dancing shoes.

I love that country song written a decade ago that became a pop song and even got airtime on the Christian stations.  Lee Ann Womack recorded it, as did Carrie Underwood.  Written as a ballad from a Mom to her children, the song says,

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they’re worth taking
Lovin’ might be a mistake
But it’s worth making
Don’t let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

Life Becomes Worship

Psalm 59, Life Becomes Worship

We come to the end of this look at David’s life through the psalms he wrote.  We’ve seen David in all kinds of circumstances across the seven decades of his life.  He’s been hunted and betrayed.  He’s been in the wilderness and in the valley.  He’s fought his enemies and run from his own son.  He’s been sinned against and he’s been the culprit.  He’s won, he’s lost.

In every one of these circumstances, he worshiped.  What is worship?  That’s what worship is.  It’s turning every kind of circumstance into an experience with God.  It’s recognizing the incomparable worth of God.

He is worthy of credit for everything that is good and right.

He is worthy of trust in every circumstance we find confusing.

He is worthy of obedience in every situation where we find ourselves drawn to sin.

He is worthy of thanks for his forgiveness when we stumble or just plain crash.

He is worthy of our very best.

But we don’t respond to him that way, do we?  Most of us are content to lead rather ordinary, average, normal Christian lives.  We just want to be better than the next person – or even the next Christian.  We tend to pick out people for comparison who have some flaw we don’t – they’re stingy, or they gossip, or they have a foul mouth, or they can’t be trusted, or their family is a mess, or they dance.  “At least I don’t do that.  God must be pleased with me.”

But why should I be content to be an average Christian?  Why should I be satisfied with less than my best for the worthy One?  What might it look like to be abnormal?  A cut above?

That’s where we head starting next week with a sermon series titled, “Refusing to be Normal.”