As the ark of the covenant of the Lord was entering the City of David, Michal daughter of Saul watched from a window. And when she saw King David dancing and celebrating, she despised him in her heart. (1 Chronicles 15:29)It is not hard to imagine David dancing before the Ark. In fact, we see David’s heart dancing before God all through the Psalms. So, I guess it makes sense that we would see the rest of him dancing for joy as the ark is brought home to Jerusalem. And David's dance here was not some highly-stylized liturgical choreography; it was rather an expression of celebration and thanksgiving. It was not the dance of the stage but rather the dance in the end zone. David’s dance was where worship meets pure joy. (OK, that sounds a little too much like Max Lucado; I must have read that somewhere, but I don’t remember where).
But David’s wife Michal is right there to throw the flag on David for "excessive celebration." As she watched David’s dance from a distance, there was nothing but coldness and criticism in her heart. The word here “despised” means “to hold in contempt.” It is the same word for used to describe how Goliath dismissed David in 1 Samuel 17: 42. David was lost in joy and thanksgiving before the Lord; Michal was lost in her own critical spirit.
What is the point of this story? It’s not that we need more dancing in church. But maybe what we do need is less criticism of the worship of others. This story is about David’s heart. Worship, ministry and piety must come from a heart that overflows with God. Michal saw a lack of protocol and propriety; David just saw God. The heart that finds it easy to be judgmental and dismissive based on external appearances is a heart that will not see God. In an article entitled “The Dance of the God-Struck,” Mark Buchanan puts his finger on the essence of this story--
Occasionally we get glimpses of Deepest Reality, intimations of what remains after all else has been shaken out and burned up. This is the reality that earthy things sometimes hint at and sometimes hide… Glimpsing it, that Deepest Reality, can make you do funny things. You can become stony still. Or giddily happy. Or chokingly afraid. It can calm you with uncanny peace, or disrupt you with implacable dread. It can make you, simultaneously, not yourself and fully yourself. It can make kings dance.
2 comments:
Sometimes in our well-intentioned focus on “How” we do things, we lose sight of the fact that God's Holy Spirit lives within us and that he is with us always, day after day after day, until the very end of time. God is more interested in us than He is in your methods. Relationship over results is the priority sequence. Unfortunately, it is so much easier to be critical when we reverse this priority order. God does not see first how eloquent, stylish rhythmic, or pin-point accurate our Worship is; he sees first our hearts, which must be the driving factor. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind" and "Love your neighbor as yourself. That’s where worship and joy meets.
“There's something about worship that can drive even a king to strip down and leap up.
Michal is one of those people who think you should never jump off the deep end. If you're going to jump, jump off the shallow end. Better to go through life maimed and paralyzed than embarrass yourself by thrashing about in some desperate panicky state, needing rescue. But better still, just don't jump. Don't even wade. Sit way back from the water, and avoid those noisy, bratty children who kick and flail and splash you. Better yet, stay home, and watch from the window.
Here is where Michal gets me. Frankly, it is often hard to sort out exactly how a pastor ought to distinguish himself in this assembly. After all, if I do lose myself in worship, if I get overemotional and overly physical in worship—well, what kind of example is that, anyhow? People will feel uncomfortable. They'll be embarrassed.”
“somebody's got to make sure everything is done in an orderly fashion around here. Somebody's got to set the tone. Somebody has to safeguard the propriety of worship.
What if the other pastors start falling on their faces or dancing in the aisles? What if people start jumping off the deep end? Who will protect the dignity of those assembled? Somebody's got to keep their distance, watch with a critical eye, make sure no one gets carried away. Not everyone wants to dance.
Barren.
Michal, at great personal cost, teaches us another valuable lesson about God. God is not the safe-keeper of our reputations. God is not some priggish domestic deity, a heavenly Miss Manners intent on prescribing the etiquette that maintains polite society, aghast by any outbursts of fervor. And our role on this Earth, be it prophet, king, priest, or homemaker, is not to keep ourselves from embarrassment. We must come before the King, dignified or undignified, robed or disrobed, in the presence of the élite or in the company of slave girls, and worship with all our might.
Michal was struck barren by God. But in ways that matter most, she had been barren already.
And David dances, through mordant anger, past mortal danger, between death and barrenness.”
(As commanded by his Lord, he did not touch the ark as he was danceing before it.)
Thankyou, Tuck, for another good link
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