Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Shall We Dance?


Shall We Dance?
Psalm 30; John 21:1-19

Some years ago, I found myself in a new relationship. After dating for awhile, this beautiful woman agreed to become my wife. I was so happy, I could dance. Except, I really couldn’t dance. So, in anticipation of our wedding day and the reception, and the traditional “first dance,” we signed up for a special deal at a dance studio. We were going to learn how to dance. With the introductory special, the teachers took us through the steps for the fox trot, and then there was waltz, west coast swing, mambo, samba, chacha, rumba. By this time, I was more confused than confident. When the introductory sessions ended, they sat down with us to offer a package to learn more. For another $2K we could become proficient dancers. We weren’t preparing to audition for Dancing with the Stars! If you attended our wedding and reception you may not remember the first dance. We were too busy enjoying our guests.

Deanna is a woman about my age. She was living in New York City for a time. Deanna enjoyed getting around on the subways, but also she enjoyed the sights and sounds of the subway stations. One day there were two blues bands that were a bit closer than usual. They got into a competition of sorts, playing back and forth, point-counterpoint, call and response. A crowd had gathered to enjoy the the moment. In the group was one particular woman. She was dressed with layers that were more than what the weather might indicate. Her colors were varied and mis-matched. She had all the appearance of a person who lived day to day without the comfort and security of a traditional home.

What caught Deanna’s attention, though, was when this woman began spontaneously moving to the music. Her first movements were followed by more, and then she stepped into an open area and began to dance, dancing to the music that filled the tunnel. Deanna handed her bags to her companion and stepped into the open space. She approached the woman and simply said, “May I join you?” The woman invited her in, and together, the two swayed and stepped and danced. For a few moments the two were lost in the joy and abandon of sharing the dance. What struck me, when I first heard her tell her story was that she approached the woman without judgement, without prejudice. She did not try to teach her how to dance properly, but joined her in the dancing that brought her a moment of joy. Deanna was simply joining her in her dance of life where joy and grace abounds.

There is something about the image of dancing: not so much as a precise form of art but as engaging in life with joy and abandon.