When I interned at the only Waunakee in the world, my supervising pastor asked me what part of worship leadership I'd like to do. In the interests of showing what a good sport I was, I told him, "I'll do anything except liturgical dance." Despite today's sermon title, that's still true. But dance and leadership-! What would we think if the president danced with all his might in his briefs? With the previous president, dancing might be the least we expected. What was with David and the dancing? Was this a religious act-giving thanks to God for the good gifts of kingdom and legitimate leaders? Or was this a political act-reminding the people just who was leading them and where? Many scholars suggest that David's dance celebrated the consolidation of religious and political power. While this may be true, this is not something for people with our Bill of Rights to emulate, so I'm going to leave that with the scholars.

My first Hebrew teacher was an 80-year-old Dominican Sister. Sister Stevie had a deep sacred awe for Hebrew scripture. One of my favorite stories about her is the time she and another sister were fishing by starlight on the Chippewa River. Suddenly, Sister Stevie leapt to her feet and started swaying and singing something. The other sister grabbed the oars in terror and said, "Stevie! Stevie! What are you doing?" Sister Stevie looked at the other sister with astonishment that she couldn't have figured it out. "Psalm 8," she said. She was dancing before the Lord, singing in Hebrew. Her last Christmas, as she was dying of cancer, Sister Stevie wrote me a note saying, "Next year I will still be dancing-whether in heaven or on earth, I'll still be dancing." I envied that approach to life. It's what I think about when David dances before the Lord with all his might in today's scripture.

What kind of leader would do that? David's wife, Michal, apparently thought a mighty poor leader would engage in that kind of spectacle-stripped down to his underwear and cavorting in front of the most sacred religious object in their world. The religious leadership wasn't the problem. No one in the ancient world could hope to be king who wasn't also the religious leader. Was it the underwear? We live in a world where the press thinks it is appropriate to ask a presidential candidate if he wears boxers or briefs. Even if it wasn't the underwear, maybe it was the "with all his might." Shouldn't a leader be more dignified? Did you ever see one of your school teachers wearing grubby clothes? Or at a party, dancing and carrying on? Didn't that change how you saw that teacher again at school? How was David's dancing leadership?

Ephesians helps. Paul is saying that, since we are part of each other, the role of community life (the only real faith life for Paul) is to help each other be better Christians. How we behave in the rest of our lives, he says, is connected to our worship life. If that was true 2,000 years ago, and we think we are worshiping the same God, it's still true. So that means if we are serious about our faith, we are being led together, and that we are led starts in worship together. Which means that how we are led is not about "good ideas." The gospel we claim is not "a good idea." The gospel requires a radical way of being, and this "being" is about God as well as each other. Since it is true that the gospel is about life and living and not ideas, our leaders need to be about more than ideas. What if our leaders were about dancing? Dancing as a way of being-about celebrating and enjoying God. I know people in this church who are in and of themselves a mobile party. Everywhere they go, people say yes to whatever these leaders ask them to do, because it's so much fun to be with them. Work goes easier when it's fun. When I was a kid, doing the dreaded chore of dishes with Grama was the best, because we'd sing and laugh and play games with her. That's what David was doing. Only it was holy fun.

My mother used to do this. We kids would be bursting out of the house on a grand adventure, and the last words we'd hear were, "Be careful!" This was in addition to the negotiations about level of care that went into the initial permission to go sliding by the creek or swimming or whatever. Do we always have to hear that warning, "Be careful!" Today should we be warned to "be careful what you dance in front of!" Indiana Jones' encounter with the ark was fiction, but if the first phase of David's parade with the ark into Jerusalem is any indication, the danger was not under-rated. How could David dance in front of that-especially after Uzzah's death, and even with the God-placating sacrifice precautions? Early in the week, as I pondered the ark, I got tangled in what it represented in terms of reverence and holiness and awe and the terribleness of the Lord of hosts. What I finally had to face was the presence of God. David is dancing before the presence of God, and the ark-as-throne means that God holds back. God is so powerful, so awesome, so incredibly more than humans can imagine or bear! When David dances before the ark, he is dancing before a Presence which holds back for our sakes, a Presence for which we long and pine and yearn. And which also scares the liver out of us. When God reassures Israel of their chosen-ness, the promise is God's presence. God's presence is what we long for more than anything. But it is also what we run from, every chance we get.

People get defensive when I suggest that they might be running from God. How dare she suggest that? I come to church. I even volunteer! I pray every time I sit down to eat (if I've set the table-not if I'm snacking of course). I pray before I go to sleep at night. I read my Bible more than a lot of other people I know. I ask God's opinion when I make a big decision. Well, friends, it takes one to know one. It is human nature to run away from God. It goes all the way back to the garden. Adam and Eve might not have been as sophisticated as we are (they merely hid from God), but we're following in their footsteps. Running from God looks like many things. Keeping God as "a good idea"-rather than allowing God to make demands for how we live. Filling our calendars so that we are busy, busy, busy-and don't have time for quiet to listen to God. Saying we will do so many things that we can't make a real commitment to anything. Tucking God into the left-over spots of our lives. Being so "good" that we are hell-bent on earning our salvation. Or being so "expert" bout faith or knowing answers so "right" that God is never allowed to "do a new thing." We can't keep God in a convenient place to bail us out when we need it. It's like reaching out your hand to steady the cart.

This foolishness about dancing before God is the total opposite of running from God. Dancing is so right there, so in the moment. The reason I can't dance (literally-you know like waltz or whatever) is because I don't want to look foolish. Dancing before the Lord means letting go of ourselves-who we think we are and what we ought to accomplish, forgetting our dignity, forgetting whether we know the steps or not. To dance before the Lord is just to rejoice and glory in the presence of God. Because that is all God really wants from us. Not obedience, not good works. They might be a nice side-effect, but what God created you for is love. God just wants our presence-rejoicing, gratitude, love. Here's the good news: we don't dance alone. It doesn't even depend on us to remember all the steps. For one thing, we have each other to help us remember. And besides, Paul says, we are filled with the Spirit as we sing. Give thanks for all good things. And keep on dancing.