Dancing Before the Ark
2 Samuel 6:1-5,12b-15
July 12, 2009
Because we just celebrated John Calvin’s 500th birthday, I thought we might begin our meditation together with a word from Calvin, who wrote,
“There is not one blade of grass, there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice.”
Young David understood this, and rejoiced in dancing in the presence of his God. Of course, though we didn’t read this part of the passage, not everyone approved of his style of worship. Saul’s daughter, perhaps a good old-fashioned church lady, looked down her nose in disapproval of David’s dancing before the ark.
That is, I believe, the first recorded shot in the “worship wars” – that age old contest between tradition and innovation, between order and inspiration, that has dogged organized religion throughout its long history.
Our Presbyterian heritage is certainly filled with its moments of deep disagreement about worship, but one of our touchstones, the Westminster Catechism – a document that formed the parameters of Presbyterian thought from the 1600s well into the 20th century – opens with this famous question:
“What is the chief end [or purpose] of [humankind]?”
The answer?
“To glorify God and enjoy God forever.”
In other words, the primary purpose of our lives is to worship the Lord and dwell in God’s house always.
Which begs the question: what is worship? And what does it mean to dwell in God’s house?
As you probably know, I’ve been on vacation for the past couple of weeks. As usual, I’ve spent a good bit of time reading – when not swimming, eating ice cream, visiting family, going to baseball games and museums or working on the house. I began the reading with a fine political thriller that kept me up quite late for several nights as I helped our hero through trials and tribulations and saved the nation!
Then I turned to a dangerous book: Barbara Brown Taylor’s An Altar in the World.
She begins with a reflection on the Biblical story of Jacob, on the run for his life after his family is shattered by his scheming. Jacob, not the kind of man you want your daughter to bring home, not the man your want your son to grow up to be, not the one you want leading your community. Jacob, if not exactly a loser, then certainly a conniving thief who has stirred a murderous rage in his own brother.
To this Jacob, who has laid his head on a stone in the wilderness, God comes in a dream, and Jacob is wise enough to recognize that God is present in the world. Jacob sets up a stone, a cairn, an altar to mark the spot and names it Bethel, or House of God. With eyes wide open, Jacob realizes that the world is full of the spirit of God and he worships.
There is not a church building anywhere in sight. There is no formal liturgy. There is no written confession of faith. No hymn books. No ordained clergy or lay leadership. Just the world. The God-infused creation, and Jacob responds with reverence, in awe and wonder at the grandeur of it all.
That is the beginning of authentic worship.
So, using these stories, of Jacob and of David, as touchstones, and guided, let me suggest, by Paul’s enigmatic charge to the church at Rome to whom he wrote, “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters,* by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual* worship” – let’s talk a bit about worship.
When do you feel most worshipful? What fills you with awe and wonder? Do you recall a time in “formal” worship service that you felt filled with awe and wonder?
July 12, 2009
Because we just celebrated John Calvin’s 500th birthday, I thought we might begin our meditation together with a word from Calvin, who wrote,
“There is not one blade of grass, there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice.”
Young David understood this, and rejoiced in dancing in the presence of his God. Of course, though we didn’t read this part of the passage, not everyone approved of his style of worship. Saul’s daughter, perhaps a good old-fashioned church lady, looked down her nose in disapproval of David’s dancing before the ark.
That is, I believe, the first recorded shot in the “worship wars” – that age old contest between tradition and innovation, between order and inspiration, that has dogged organized religion throughout its long history.
Our Presbyterian heritage is certainly filled with its moments of deep disagreement about worship, but one of our touchstones, the Westminster Catechism – a document that formed the parameters of Presbyterian thought from the 1600s well into the 20th century – opens with this famous question:
“What is the chief end [or purpose] of [humankind]?”
The answer?
“To glorify God and enjoy God forever.”
In other words, the primary purpose of our lives is to worship the Lord and dwell in God’s house always.
Which begs the question: what is worship? And what does it mean to dwell in God’s house?
As you probably know, I’ve been on vacation for the past couple of weeks. As usual, I’ve spent a good bit of time reading – when not swimming, eating ice cream, visiting family, going to baseball games and museums or working on the house. I began the reading with a fine political thriller that kept me up quite late for several nights as I helped our hero through trials and tribulations and saved the nation!
Then I turned to a dangerous book: Barbara Brown Taylor’s An Altar in the World.
She begins with a reflection on the Biblical story of Jacob, on the run for his life after his family is shattered by his scheming. Jacob, not the kind of man you want your daughter to bring home, not the man your want your son to grow up to be, not the one you want leading your community. Jacob, if not exactly a loser, then certainly a conniving thief who has stirred a murderous rage in his own brother.
To this Jacob, who has laid his head on a stone in the wilderness, God comes in a dream, and Jacob is wise enough to recognize that God is present in the world. Jacob sets up a stone, a cairn, an altar to mark the spot and names it Bethel, or House of God. With eyes wide open, Jacob realizes that the world is full of the spirit of God and he worships.
There is not a church building anywhere in sight. There is no formal liturgy. There is no written confession of faith. No hymn books. No ordained clergy or lay leadership. Just the world. The God-infused creation, and Jacob responds with reverence, in awe and wonder at the grandeur of it all.
That is the beginning of authentic worship.
So, using these stories, of Jacob and of David, as touchstones, and guided, let me suggest, by Paul’s enigmatic charge to the church at Rome to whom he wrote, “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters,* by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual* worship” – let’s talk a bit about worship.
When do you feel most worshipful? What fills you with awe and wonder? Do you recall a time in “formal” worship service that you felt filled with awe and wonder?
posted by David Ensign at
1:40 PM
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