To Live Is to Dance
John 10:1-21
Sermon
by Maxie Dunnam

When you hear the word of the Lord, as we find in the tenth chapter of the Gospel of John, reading only the 7th through the 10th verses of that gospel.  ‘So Jesus said again to them, truly, truly I say to you, I am the door of the sheep.  All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not heed them.  I am the door.  If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go and out and find pasture.  The thief comes only to steal and to kill and to destroy.  I am come that you may have life, and that you may have it abundantly.’  Let us pray.

We thank you our Heavenly Father for your word which comes to us through the liturgy of the Church, through the Hymns of the church, through the word of God, the Scripture, and occasionally, we pray often through your preached word when we’re open to your spirit.  We pray that we’ll be open now, not only to speak your word, but to receive it.  Through Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Throughout the ages, different images have been offered to assist us in making sense out of life.  So life has been seen as a battle to fight, risks to take, a game to play, a maize to grope through, a drama to enact, a flickering light to keep alive, a pilgrim’s journey, or a road to travel.  Cynics have seen it has a sentence for the crime to be served as a result of our being born.  And Shakespeare described it as a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.  And an even more cynical person than that said, it’s just a long headache on a noisy street.  Each image carries with it a whole bundle of expectations.  Modes of relating attitudes, responses, and stances toward life.  I want to propose an image which makes sense to me and which I believe will capture your imagination.  It’s not a biblical image, though it is certainly rooted in scripture and biblical experience. It is the image of the dance, and that’s the reason we have just sung the hymn of preparation that we sang.  Let me trace the image through scripture.  The Psalms resonate with the music and singing and dancing of persons who offer themselves in joyful and joyous worship to God.  Listen, praise the Lord, sing to the Lord a new song.  Let them praise his name with dancing, making melody to him with timbrel and lyre.  Praise Him with trumpet sounds.  Praise Him with lute and harp. Praise him with timbrel and dance.  Let everything that breathes praise the Lord.  The preacher of Ecclesiastes reminds that there is a time to mourn and a time to dance.  And the Psalmist comes back to say that the Lord turns our mourning into dancing. 

If you want to read a story of heartfelt and heart stirred and heart stirring worship, read the 6th chapter of II Samuel in the Old Testament.  It’s the story of David and 30,000 chosen of Israel bringing the arch of the covenant to Jerusalem.  In the midst of that story, there is this exhilarating verse, and David danced before the Lord with all his might.  When you come to the New Testament, it is no different.  The prodigal son’s return home was celebrated with music and dancing.  Jesus would not allow his disciples to fast, as did John’s disciples, because He, the bride-groom, was still alive.  And because he was still alive, he said it was not to be the occasion of sorrowful fasting, but was to be the occasion of joyful dancing.  So that’s the biblical suggestion for the dance. 

Some of you know that a few years I wrote a book entitled, Dancing at My FuneralThat book is very autobiographical because in it I share my own personal pilgrimage, a pilgrimage of death and resurrection.  Funerals are about death, and dancing is about life.  The gospel is about both death and dancing.  The triumph of life over death.  And this is not just the triumph of death over, or rather life over death in some ultimate one-time event, when God raises us from the dead to live forever.  But rather this is an ongoing experience Jesus promised when he said in our text, I am come that you may have life and that you may have it more abundantly.  But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

Let me share two images from the contemporary scene, which I hope will make my suggested image come alive.  Then I will seek to put some flesh on the bones of the image, and pray that the Spirit will breathe life into it for you.  The first contemporary image is my favorite.  Snoopy.  The hound of heaven in Charles Schulz’ cartoon, Peanut.  Snoopy is constantly leaping with joy.  He knows the humiliation that comes from being a dog, but he also knows the inherent joy.  On one occasion, he moves into deep meditation and contemplation as he watches Linus and Charlie Brown pass by.  And in a series of very ponderous philosophical meditative words, he says, I wonder why some of us were born dogs, while others are born people.  Is it just pure chance, or why is it?  Somehow, the whole thing just doesn’t seem fair.  And then he emerges from his meditation and goes tripping away with one concluding question - why should I have been the lucky one?  The image of Snoopy constantly coming through Schulz’s perceptive presentation is the happily bounding dog twirling around, flopping his ears, leaping with joy, exalting to “to live is to dance and to dance is to live.” 

The second picture is that of a novice Nun in that lilting musical, The Sound of Music.  Anyone who saw that play or that movie can’t forget the sparkling, flighty sparrow-like girl gliding through the fields, her habit blowing in the wind as she sings, the fields are alive with the sound of music, or as she lead the children singing on their flight to freedom and safety.  The problem is, how do you deal with a person like that?  A person like Marie.  Someone that is so free and joyous and alive.  The Mother Superior has problems with that and sings about it, how do you solve a problem like Maria?  How do you catch a flower and pin it down.  Many a thing you know you’d like to tell her, many a thing she ought to understand.  But how do you make her stay and listen to what you say?  How do you keep a wave upon the sand.  Oh how do you solve a problem like Maria?  How do you hold a moon beam in your hand.  Isn’t that a glorious picture of freedom and joy, of life as a dance. 

Now don’t get all tangled up in what you don’t like about these images.  They have limitations.  Don’t give way to the paralysis of analysis.  We’re interested in images - symbols.  And symbols are not to be analyzed, they are to be experienced.  Now listen, the real test of a person as he faces life is whether he runs, fights, whimpers, or dances.  Now that word burrows its way into the depths of your being.  It is the hinge through of this message.  If you wrestle with this truth, the Spirit will work within you and bring you to some new understanding and commitments this morning.  The real test of a person as he faces life is whether he runs, fights, whimpers, or dances.  Now the flip side of that slogan coin is this - Jesus calls us away from our running, fighting, whimpering life and he calls us to dance.  Jesus was in love with life.  People accused him of being a glutton.  He loved a party.  He associated with people from all walks of life and found meaning in those relationships.  There was about him what the French call a joie de vie that was infectious.  He had a style, a style that was identifiable and attractive and contagious.  Here was a man, this Jesus, who stood in the midst of every baffling contradiction a person could know, held high every embarrassment this life affords within his own heart.  The height of Heaven and the depth of hell, the joy of the Kingdom and the pain of death, the freedom of faith and the bitterness of hate, the spirit and the flesh, angels and devils.  Hope and despair - were all in the experience of Jesus, and yet look what he made of them: a new dimension of consciousness for person, new order of society, a new philosophy of history, a new destiny for humanity, a new way of life and a new sense of God.  Ah but you say, that was Jesus and I am me.  You’re right.  That’s the reason we call Jesus, Lord.  But because he is Lord, he calls us to bring forth from our life our own music.  To elicit from where we are the symphony of life, not to run or fight or whimper, but to dance.  So let’s look briefly at these options, for they’re common responses that we make to life.

I. Running

Someone told me a story recently about a woman who sought to look one way.  She had problems with her weight.  Not only do women have problems with weight, some of us men, and I’m glad I have this robe on, some of us men have problems with our weight.  She was a compulsive eater.  She couldn’t pass the refrigerator without opening the door and getting a snack.  One day she was thumbing through a magazine and came upon an advertisement which struck a light within her mind.  It pictured a very beautiful woman, the right weight, clad in a mini bikini.  And this woman decided that maybe that could be a deterrent for her, so she tore the page from the magazine and put it on the refrigerator door.  So every time she was tempted to have a snack, that woman reminded her of what she might become if she disciplined herself.  And it worked, it worked.  The first month, she lost 8 pounds.  Her husband gained 15. 

There are different ways to look at things.  I want us to look at these options to see if we fit any of them and see if we’re falling into these snares.  Some of us run.  We use all of our energy seeking to evade reality.  Now there’s the obvious ways people run, through alcohol and drugs, and superficial relationships and sex, and the favorite sport of many is to talk about the way other people run.  Less obvious perhaps, certainly less recognized and seldom confessed are other common patterns of running - burying ourselves in our jobs, so that we can escape much of the balance of reality.  Immersing ourselves in fun and entertainment, giving ourselves to a whirled wind social life so that we never have the time to sit down and face ourselves as we actually are.  Losing ourselves in hours of television viewing, thus refusing to face up to the deterioration that’s taking place in the relationship of spouse and children, because we don’t give the time that we need to give to that relationship.  Also we run and hide from the hard social issues of the community and our world.  Sometimes running through our frantic involvement in the church and other good programs, unconsciously seeking to deaden our consciences to the prophetic call of God to do justice, to love mercy, to make peace, and to care for widows and orphans.  We resist confrontation.  We evade the tough calls upon our lives by running. 

II. Fighting

Some of us don’t run, we fight.  Now this is a very common response to life.  We’ve seen it in the violent militancy of many minority groups here in the past three decades.  We’re seeing today in the militancy of the extreme religious rights.  When you have the president of one of the most notable, fundamentalist colleges in this nation praying that God would put to death one of our governmental leaders because he didn’t agree with or grant the wishes of that college, you have an example of violent religious fighting.  I think it’s a commentary on our time that books like, Winning through Intimidation, become best sellers.  Something is wrong.  Something is wrong in the fabric of this nation, and something is wrong in the fabric of our individual lives when we always have to be on the top.  When we always have to be on the top.  And when we seek to retain our places and protect our turf by always being on the attack - maintaining our identity by beating others.  Even the family, even the family is turned into a competitive arena.  Children rebel against authority, husbands and wives respond to one another with negative aggression - making their marriages a duel.  Pitting their resources against each other, emotionally manipulating - never willing to express weakness, never willing to admit failure.  We see life as a battle and we deal with it by fighting.

III. Whimpering

The third way we deal with life is by whimpering.  Now this is the opposite of fighting, yet we use it to either get our own way or to escape.  We absorb the assaults of the world and we respond only with a whimper.  Now you can really deal with a fighter easier than you can deal with a whimperer - we become victims.  This is the image many people have of Christians, but it is an unfortunate distortion.  There is a resignation that redeems, and authentic Christians know that way - they know how to receive rather than always being on the attack; finding joy and meaning in suffering; knowing how to be unengaged, as well as engaged.  But we‘re talking about something all together different when we talk about a whimpering victim.  We’re talking about the one who copes with conflict and chaos and difficulty by absorbing insults, accepting woes and worry, without responding.  The one who never talks or acts, who simple goes limp and allows himself or herself to be carried along like a ping pong ball down a mountain stream.  They don’t run away from reality, they simply allow themselves to be carried from the mainstream of life.  Do you get the picture now. 

IV. Dancing

The real test of a person as he faces life is whether he runs, rights, whimpers, or dances.  We’ve considered the first three options, now look at the fourth.  What do we really mean by dancing as a response to life?  Let me suggest three words.  The first is creative response.  This is one of the primary elements of the dance.  To move in fixed patterns and stylized sets is to miss the meaning of the dance.  While in every dance there is a distinctive pattern, to respond creatively to the music and rhythm of life is to know the ultimate joy of dancing.  Too often in life we become victims of a slavish consistency.  Especially we do this within the church.  We think that we all have to look alike and act alike and sound alike.  I get tired of going to certain kinds of religious conferences where everybody at those conferences uses the same words, the same inflection, the same terminology - and they act the same way.  Everybody looking alike, sounding alike, talking alike. 

A couple of days ago, a dynamic fellow in this congregation was sharing with me his Christian pilgrimage.  He told me about that turning on experience that came in a lay witness mission here in this church some years ago, and the deep meaning and growth he discovered through spending 30 minutes with the Bible each day, about the excitement of sharing his faith with others.  Then, with a large measure of sadness, he told me about during those first years, he fell into the trap of seeking to pattern his life after some superstar type Christian whom he loved and appreciated.  Even adopting their vocabulary and their communication style.  Now that’s a common story.  Too often we try to imitate other persons whom we set up as examples of Christian living and we squash, we squash our own unique gifts.  Steve Miller had a marvelous image.  He says we’ve sought to turn the church into a trumpet corps, when it really out to be an orchestra.  It’s not a trumpet corps because it’s made up of different shaped instruments with different shaped sounds.  And he added a confession that must of us could add - he said, I’ve been a piccolo trying to a play in the tuba section.  When we really accept Christ, and receive the freedom he offers, we’re freed from the pressure of having to fit someone else’s image.  Christ doesn’t turn out cookie-cut, carbon copy, people.  He affirms us as unique, unrepeatable miracles of God.  And he frees us so that we don’t allow the world or even other Christians to squeeze us into their mold.  Life becomes a dance and we respond creatively.

A second word I would suggest is involvement.  One never knows the joy of dancing by observing it.  Three years, a few years ago, Jerry and I were in Mexico City.  We had the opportunity of witnessing that magnificent Mexican treasure, the national ballet of Mexico.  The great dance presentation that communicates much of the history of that great country.  Even though I’m not sophisticated where the dance is concerned, and ballet is not my favorite thing.  This was one of the most enthralling experiences I have ever known.  One lived the history of Mexico through those dances.  I knew, however, that I didn’t even begin to understand a small portion of what was going on in the life of those dancers themselves.  They were involved, they were living the dance.  Now it’s no less true in Christian living.  We have to involve ourselves in it.  To change the metaphor, we have to jump in even though the water is over our head.  Now this means risk.  And I want you to hear a truth and I want you to underline it.  Most of us prefer the hell of a predictable situation rather than risk the joy of an unpredictable one.  Did you get that?  Most of us prefer the hell of a predictable situation rather than risk the joy of an unpredictable one - and we’ll never know the joy of Christian freedom.  We’ll never know the relief that comes in the Christian life until we involve ourselves in the life Christ would want us to lead, in abandonment, we run the risk of faith and give ourselves completely to Him and receive the freedom he offers.  So get into the Bible.  Begin a disciplined life of prayer.  Be intentional about your witness.  Be bold in your stewardship and begin the practice of tithing.  To plunge into life completely is our baptism, and to dance with fellow plungers is our communion.  And that leads to the third and last thing I want to say.  I guess you’re happy about that.

There is the social dimension of the dance, which we must realize is a part of the Christian life.  There are times when we dance alone.  Rare moments when we respond to the world around us and within us.  Unaware of other people and other worlds.  But most of the basic rhythms of life are rhythms which call for partners and for fellow dancers whose presence and whose response to life evoke creativity in us.  Whose common willingness to risk and to dare supports us and encourages us and gives us the inspiration and the strength and the boldness to go on.  In the Christian life, we contact our partners and we dance together.  Our partners are God’s people, and the place of the dance is the mission and the labor that goes on in the world.  That’s the reason it’s so crucial to keep clear in our mind who the church is, what our functions are, who is our master, and where is our power.  This is not just another organization that we’re a part of - we’re God’s people.  We don’t order our lives like a civic club or some service organization.  Our fellowship is in Christ.  Our orders come from God.  The Holy Spirit provides us power.  So this is no human institution dependent upon human ingenuity.  We’re a miracle people who believe and live as though God continues to invade our lives, intervene in the world, and shape our destiny.  Again, commitment and bold involvement is the key. 

There was a day and many of you here will remember this.  There was a day during the 60s and the 70s, those violent times of upheaval, when the cry was that the world must set the agenda for the church.  Now that never was true, that never was true.  God sets the agenda for the church.  But listen.  The world is our agenda.  It is our agenda.  It doesn’t set our agenda, but it is our agenda.  Unlike many religious leaders, Jesus lived in the world and he loved the world.  He loved it so much that he died for it.  I hope a lot of you heard Billy Graham on that special news program the other night, this past week.  I was thrilled to hear Billy Graham talking about not only a need for a freeze in the building up of nuclear weapons, but a soft  agreement that would eventually lead to all nations who now have them literally destroying their stockpiles of nuclear weapons.  Now that shows a love for the world.  The social dimension of the gospel calls for an expenditure of ourselves beyond the limits of calculation and rationality.  And when we know through Christ that we’re loved by God, we can love ourselves.  And loving ourselves, we can love others.  Identify with them, serve them, rejoicing with those who rejoice, and weeping with those who weep.  Then we will have no fear, then we will have no fear of facing the last judgment Jesus described when he separated the sheep from the goat and said some would be cast into outer darkness where there will be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.  We will have no fear of that judgment because we will have already responded to his call to feed the poor, to cloth the naked, to shelter the homeless, to visit the sick and prisoners, to preach the gospel in every nook and cranny of the world.  But if we don’t respond to that, there’s every reason for us to have fear of that judgment. 

I close with this.  In 1980, Jeri and I attended the Passion Play at Ober Amigal.  It was a rare experience of that once each decade presentation of the passion and death of our Lord by the people of that little small German village.  A story of another man experiencing the drama is forever etched in my mind.  He went backstage at the conclusion of the drama to meet Mr. Anton Lange, who for three decades had played the role of Christ in that drama.  After taking a picture of Mr. Lange, he noticed over in the corner the great cross which Mr. Lange had carried in the play.  Here dear, he said quickly to his wife, you take the camera and when I lift that cross to my shoulder, you take my picture.  Before Mr. Lange could say anything, the tourist had stooped over and was seeking to put the cross on his shoulder, but couldn’t budge it from the floor.  The cross was made of heavy, iron oak beams.  Puffing with amazement, I don’t understand it, I thought it would be hollow.  Why do you carry such a heavy cross?  Mr. Lange replied softly, sir, if I didn’t feel the weight of his cross, I could not play his part.  There it is.  We can never be spectators in the Christian drama.  To participate in the dance of redemption is to share with Christ in ministry to others and to give ourselves in love for the world for which Christ died.  Does it mean more to you now than it did before?  The real test of a person as he faces life is whether he runs, fights, whimpers, or dances.  Hear Jesus again, I am come that you may have life and that you may have it abundantly.  And hear the challenge - once we accept Jesus’ life as a dance, to plunge into life completely is our baptism, and to dance with fellow plungers is our communion.  Do you get it now?  Life is a dance.  And to live with Christ is to dance, not to run or fight or whimper.  But to dance.  Let us pray.

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