Dance then wherever you may
be
Today is Passion Sunday, when perhaps we might be thinking ahead to
Good Friday and Our Lord’s crucifixion. But when you look at the bible
readings for today they have a different focus. The gospel tells the
story of the raising of Lazarus, the Old Testament reading is about God
breathing life into the valley of dry bones, while in the passage from
Romans Paul writes about the new life we enjoy through the miracle of
the Resurrection. So the passion we are invited to reflect upon today
is not so much Christ’s suffering, as the abundant, vital, passionate
new life which is the gift to us of His Cross and Resurrection. The
readings contrast what is old, stale and dead within us, with the new,
joyful freedoms of the Easter people. So on Passion Sunday we can
prepare for Easter by trying to understand what the Resurrection really
means in our daily lives.
The problem for us is to find the right words, the right imagery. The
Resurrection is very puzzling, inexplicable, even frightening – no less
for us than for the first disciples. Even St. Paul, who had had a
life-changing encounter with the Risen Christ, struggled with how to
express the Christian experience of the Resurrection. This is what he
says in today’s epistle: ‘If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from
the dead is living in you, then he……will also give life to your mortal
bodies through his Spirit…’
Do you get it? I’m not sure I do, entirely. For Paul the mystery
of the resurrection life is that of Christ living in us, and we in him.
But how should we picture this? I’ll live in you if you’ll live in me.
That’s what the Easter hymn says – I’ll live in you if you’ll live in
me: I am the Lord of the Dance, said he.’ It may not be in the Bible,
but there is a tradition, a striking picture, of the Resurrection life
as a Dance led by the Risen Christ. There is for instance that lovely
carol that our choir sings: Tomorrow shall be my dancing day; I would
my true love did so chance To see the legend of my play To call my true
love to my dance. Sing O, my love, my love, my love- this have I done
for my true love. Our Archbishop Rowan Williams once gave a very moving
sermon with ‘My Dancing Day’ as its title, and I confess that I have
unashamedly taken one or two of his ideas to share with you this
morning.
I am totally useless as a dancer – check that out with Linda! I am
awkward, ungainly, and have two left feet and no sense of rhythm. But
perhaps because of this I love watching dance – not just the ‘Strictly’
kind, but classical and modern ballet – anything. I find that through
the dance - in the grace and vitality of movement, the interpretation
of music within a physical space, the expression of otherwise
inexpressible ideas and feelings and emotions - I am captivated and
lifted into another world.
And so Jesus calls us to follow him in the Dance, to mirror his
gestures as his hands slowly open to bless, his arms gently circle to
enfold the world, as his body sinks to raise the fallen. And then he
takes us by the hand and we are on the floor, his grace becoming our
grace – ‘love to the loveless shown that we might lovely be.’ And now
we are moving, without seeming to try, to the rhythm and the melody of
God’s love.
And from time to time the pattern of the dance changes so that we are
on our own improvising, or dancing with others in twos and threes and
groups – but always in and out of the Dance is the Christ, its Life and
Soul, speaking wordlessly to us ‘Here are the signs of my life, the
patterns I make, the beauty I create, and so can you.’
Is this fantasy? I hope not. The danger is not that we will lose a
sense of reality, but that we will hold back- too timid, too buttoned
up, too conscious of our ungainliness to risk all and give all, and
join the Dance of Christ’s love. And if we do venture on to the floor
there is always the risk that we will try to do it all our way – and so
wreck the rhythm and the choreography. But if we will only follow the
movements of our Lord, the Lord of the Dance, we will indeed become one
with his new, risen life.
I believe that at the Heavenly Banquet there will be dancing, lots of
dancing. I only hope that before I die, useless though I am, I may yet
learn a step or two so that I can join in. Perhaps we could all of us
make a start during Holy Week this year, as we move from the Passion of
the Cross towards the passion of the dance, the dance of Christ’s
Resurrection life among us.
‘They cut me down and I leap up high; I am the life that’ll never,
never die. I’ll live in you if you’ll live in me: I am the Lord of the
Dance, said he.’