Sermon by Rev. Wayne Irwin
November 25, 2007

Scripture Reading: 2 Samuel 6:12-19

The place was Rugby School,
in England.
The Headmaster, Thomas Arnold,
father of the renowned Victorian poet
Matthew Arnold.
The year was 1823.
And the occasion?
A football match.
The game played entirely by kicking.

It was a game the Roman legions had played,
in the days of the writing of the Gospels.
A game the children of London had played,
in the streets,
in the days of the Crusades.
Attempting to kick a ball
across a line scraped through the dirt.

And now, in Georgian times,
football . . . was one of the games of choice
in the English secondary school system.
each school playing by its own house rules.
And thus . . . in 1823 . . came the fateful day.
William Webb Ellis threw caution to the wind.
And instead of kicking the ball,
he picked it up . . . and ran,
the other players running after him
in order to bring him down.
And they found there was much delight
in that rough play.
In its push and pull.
In its "scrimmage" as they called it.
And . . . as we say . . . the rest is history.

The Canadian game of football.
This running game came to Canada
thanks to Rugby alumni.
Came to McGill University in Montreal.
And from there, some of the students
introduced the uniqueness of its rules
to the Americans.

And the championship game
that Toronto hosts today,
named after Sir Albert Henry George Grey,
Governor General of Canada from 1904 - 11,
has become an instrument of national festivity.

The merrymaking in the streets a long tradition,
tracking back into the mists of history.
Celebration itself arising
in the expression of nomads of thanksgiving
for surviving their travels
from one season to the next.

Nomads, who would always move their camps
beginning on the first night of the full moon
in spring and fall,
observed a higher frequency
of accident and loss
in the time of the shift.
They attributed it
to the anger of unsettled evil spirits;
and they created special rituals
to placate the demon gods.

Upon successful arrival
in their new locale for grazing,
they would rejoice
with feasts of banqueting and drinking,
and with jamborees of joyful dancing.
And this was certainly also true
of the Israelites.

In spite of their many hardships,
the Israelites were a partying people.
When they successfully made their way
out of Egypt under Moses,
we read that Miriam, Moses' sister,
took a tambourine in hand
and led all the women out . . . in dancing.

As in all the religions of antiquity,
the dance had its place in Hebrew life.
It was an act of worship.
A delightful contrast
to the relatively frequent rituals of mourning.
A happy action of praise to God.

Ancient religion in general
was a joyous affair.
The sanctuaries were the scenes
and the festivals were the occasions
for rejoicing before God.

And although there is little mention
of dancing in the Bible,
what does appear seems to indicate
that it was so common,
it required no special mention,

And our particular text today.
It is a tale of David dancing. King David.
Dancing "before the Lord with all his might."
An act of worship.
An act of delight.

But who is this David dancing?
And why does David dance?

He is the grandson of Boaz and Ruth.
His father . . . name of Jesse.
And he's born in Bethlehem.
His occupation, early on, a family shepherd.
The youngest boy in a clutch of eight.
Strong . . . and brave. . .
and undaunted by the lion or the bear.
His sling . . . his security. His safeguard.
And his rod and staff the comfort of his sheep.

As for the Philistine giant, Goliath . . .
he is no wild beast . . . not to David.
And when the Israelite army is challenged,
and stymied,
David downs him with a stone.
Puts an end to their tormenting harassment
of his people.
And David also plays the harp.
Composes his own songs.
And serenades the king, King Saul
in his days of deep depression.
And with his beloved friend Jonathan,
David engages in exploits of great suspense.

Subsequently, David succeeds Saul as king,
and captures, for the first time, Jerusalem
establishing it as the capital.
Uniting the nation.
And in 40 years, building an empire
that reaches from Egypt in the south,
all the way to Greece. . . . And when?
A thousand years before the birth of Jesus.

And David's masculinity? His virility?
It leads him into temptation.
Enchanted by Bathsheba's beauty
he arranges for her husband
to be killed in battle
to free her for himself.
And Bathsheba becomes the mother of Solomon,
who becomes the next king,
and builds in Jerusalem
the first Temple on the Holy Mount.

And meanwhile the Bible names
eight of King David's wives.
Seven of them bearing children.
Michal, the eighth, bearing none.

She is a daughter of David's predecessor,
King Saul,
sharing his depression,
and, as told in our text,
chastising her husband David publicly
for openly displaying his joy in the Lord.

Clarence Macartney,
the late prominent American Presbyterian preacher
called David both a sinner and a saint.
The most beloved . . . and the most detested . . .
of the characters in the biblical scene.

Said Macartney: "David lives with intensity.
With passion.
Regrets his failings.
Confesses . . . repents . . .
and comes to know the freedom
of God's forgiveness.
And his relationship with God
is expressed in his devotion to the Ark."

Now this Ark, this gilded trophy,
like the Grey Cup this evening,
is a symbol of supremacy.
For the Hebrew's
the symbol of God's presence.
The symbol of God's approval.
Of God's power . . . present and without peer.

It has been in dusty storage
on Israel's borderlands . . . for forty years,
since the day of its return from the Philistines.
And David knows how important it is
that the Ark be in Jerusalem . . .
for the life . . . and the morale . . . of the nation.
For the sake of the unity of the twelve tribes,
it must be brought to the capital.
It must be brought home.

So a hundred and twenty representatives,
ten from each of the tribes,
are assembled.
And eight priests dispatched
to carry the Ark home.
Singers are engaged, and harpists,
and other musicians
with trumpets and lyres and cymbals . . .
"to raise loud," we're told,
"the sounds of the joy,"
to lead the cheers, to ensure the rejoicing.

And David and the priests and the elders
and the commanders
go forth to bring the treasure home.
And we read, "All Israel is gathered
when it is brought up to Jerusalem,
with singing and with shouting,
with all the rejoicing."

David's single-minded intention
is what accomplishes this task.
And in his success, David is overjoyed.
And so he dances.
As an expression of the elation he feels
in his whole being,
in gratitude for the success of his mission,
in praise of God.

As you are probably aware,
the Canadian Football Hall of Fame
is just across the street.
And one of its inductees, 22 years ago
was Terrance Anthony Evanshen.
He enjoyed a 14-year career
in the Canadian Football League
and developed into one of the most skilled
pass receivers in CFL history.

He caught 600 passes for 4 different teams,
made 80 touchdowns,
and only fumbled 3 times.
"Singlemindedness," he said, "was the key."
"My responsibility," he said,
"was to catch that ball.
Nothing else mattered.
There was no other thought. . . .

"And after catching it . . .
if I came down in one piece, my responsibility
was to then make that next yard.
Nothing else mattered.
There was no other thought."

Our Canadian Grey Cup festival
is really our country's dance.
It is the one national championship in sport
in this country.
Hockey is international.
Curling is international.
Canadian football is our one truly national championship.
And our country's expression
of the joy in life.
Canadian football serves as a focus for this.
With its own rules. . . . its own aura.
Its own heroes and villains.
Its own persons of strength.
Its own saints.
It symbolizes and acts out the game of life,
back and forth and back and forth,
the success and the failure,
and the success again.

Said Aristotle, the Greek philosopher,
"Play in life, is an end in itself."
It projects nothing forward.
It brings us into the 'now.'
And in every game,
with fresh eyes and fresh ears,
we take ourselves to it, again and again,
and are nourished in the play.

Its outlet restores balance.
Brings healing to the nation.
And release for the pent-up inclination
for festivity within human beings.
Our whole being takes part
as we jump and holler at the game,
and even swing each other around.

And where is God in all of this?
And what is happening
when the fans of both teams
are praying, and asking for a win?
As one rabbi once put it,
"In that event, I imagine
that God just sits back
and enjoys a good game."

Meister Eckhart, Christian mystic
of seven hundred years ago,
observed that there is play, actually,
in the very nature of God.
"From the divine embrace
of what God has created," he wrote.
"comes the eternal playing of the Christ."
There is music in the spheres,
and all creation dances to its rhythm.

And can we in the church
really do anything of more importance
than celebrate?
We are the one who have chosen
to listen for the music of the spheres,
to attend to the dance of the Christos
in creation.
Who have declared within our hearts
that nothing else matters.
That there is no other thought.

We gather to sing praises,
because we are committed to trusting
that God is good,
and that God's good news, for everyone,
is eternal.

That God is not interested
in sending us to Hell.
That God sent Jesus
to deal with our Hell,
on whichever side of death

And that God ultimately wins.
What our Easter is really all about.

Can we in the church thus fail to sing praise
with all that is in us?
To dance?
This is our festal gathering, this Sunday Worship.
An opportunity every week.
And we are God's festive people.

And the learning
in the great story of David for us?
That no matter what our story,
our successes, our failings,
God is able to accomplish God's game plan
even through us.
That whatever we meet on the playing field,
whatever challenge looms ahead,
we can dance.
With joyous abandon,
or in our own quiet way.
Because of the Gospel.
Because of the Good News of God.

In Jesus, the Ark,
the Grey Cup of the Hebrew nation,
the Symbol of Supremacy
has come home.
The Presence and enabling Power of God
has come home.
The Spirit has come home.
Has come home to us.
To this troubled world.
Has come home to stay.
And this is the best cause for revelry
that this life ever affords.

So dance, then, wherever you may be.
Words of Sydney Carter's hymn
celebrating the dance of Christ,
and God's love for us all . . .
We sing it together now


I danced in the morning when the world was begun,
and I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun,
and I came from heaven and I danced on the earth;
at Bethlehem I had my birth.
Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
and I'll lead you all, wherever you may be,
and I'll lead you all in the dance, said he.

I danced for the scribe and the pharisee,
but they would not dance and they would not follow me;
I danced for the fishermen, for James and John;
they came with me and the dance went on.
Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
and I'll lead you all, wherever you may be,
and I'll lead you all in the dance, said he.

I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame;
the holy people said it was a shame;
they whipped and they stripped and they hung me high,
and left me there on a cross to die.
Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
and I'll lead you all, wherever you may be,
and I'll lead you all in the dance, said he.

I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black;
it's hard to dance with the devil on your back;
they buried my body and they thought I'd gone,
but I am the dance and I still go on.
Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
and I'll lead you all, wherever you may be,
and I'll lead you all in the dance, said he.

They cut me down and I leap up high;
I am the life that will never, never die;
I'll live in you if you'll live in me;
I am the Lord of the dance, said he.
Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
and I'll lead you all, wherever you may be,
and I'll lead you all in the dance, said he.

Amen.