March 15, 2026 – Fourth Sunday in Lent
II Samuel 6.12-23
Mark 3.19b-26, 31-35
Shall We Dance?
Fourth Sunday in Lent
On Ash Wednesday we were treated to these inspiring words from the sixteenth century Swiss Reformer John Calvin:
“We are so vitiated and perverted in every part of our nature that by this great corruption, we stand justly condemned and convicted before God… this perversity never ceases in us, but continually bears new fruits, just as a burning furnace gives forth flame and sparks, or water ceaselessly bubbles up from a spring… For our nature is not only destitute and empty of good, but so fertile and fruitful of every evil that it cannot be idle… Obviously (therefore), humanity’s ruin is to be ascribed to humanity alone; for having acquired righteousness by God’s kindness, we have by our own folly sunk into vanity.”
Difficult words to hear, even deep in the season of penitence that is Lent. However, it is time to press the pause button, because today is Refreshment Sunday, the Fourth Sunday in Lent, the day the church has set aside to take a breather from the solemnity of Lent. We started it off with music and dancing and the glory and giggle of children, and today’s story about David dancing before the Lord is the perfect antidote.
There is probably not a husband nor wife nor life partner nor parent nor child alive who has not stood by, silently, tongue firmly in check, while a family member did something embarrassing in public. I recall an older member of our family, at the home of a church member no less, many years ago, impressing the crowd with her ability to do headstands… whether or not she remembered she was wearing a dress at the time is something I never had the nerve to ask her. Because let’s face it: nobody can embarrass us like family! What child has not been appalled and humiliated by the naïveté of their parents? What parent has not turned crimson at their child’s unabashed and ill-timed, honesty? Who has not been taken aback by a spouse’s completely out-of-character behavior in a crowd? Whether it is a trifling miscalculation or a grave faux pas, I’d be willing to bet every one of us can recall one such episode without a great deal of effort.
King David’s wife Michal likely asked herself these very questions. As she watched her husband the King make a spectacle of himself in the temple square, she let her disappointment and sarcasm get the better of her: “How the king of Israel honored himself today, uncovering himself before the eyes of his servants’ maids, as one of the vulgar fellows…” David’s behavior clearly embarrassed his wife when he danced joyfully before the ark of the Lord, as it finally returned to its rightful place in Jerusalem after having been captured by the Philistines. David was consumed with gladness on this historic occasion, and as a musician who piped and sang to the glory of God, he was overcome with jubilation, and he danced. Wildly and exuberantly and not caring what anyone else thought, David danced. And Michal, peering out the window at her husband’s unchaste performance, seethed.
Sadly, David and Michal’s relationship had deteriorated considerably since the day he accepted her hand in marriage, offered to him by her father, King Saul. There was a time when David and Michal would do anything for each other, so profound was their mutual love. In fact Saul, by that time already jealous of David, knowing his desire for Michal, asked a nearly impossible dowry for her hand in marriage: in I Samuel 18 we read the cynical request, “The king desires no marriage present… except a hundred foreskins of the Philistines.” But David, undaunted, proved his love for Michal by bringing Saul not one, but two hundred foreskins of the Philistines. Still, the heady days of infatuation were past, and as David danced before God, Michal watched him with bitterness and resentment.
To be honest, it is not all that difficult to see the scene through Michal’s eyes, and to question the propriety of David’s behavior. You cannot help but wonder about the wisdom of the king stripping down to nothing but a linen loincloth before his subjects, a crowd which included, as Michal so pointedly observed, the young maidens of the city. Our eyebrows might arch even higher if we consider that most translators agree that the Hebrew phrase describing David, “girded in a linen ephod,” is actually a euphemism for David’s being girded in nothing at all! Remember, part of Michal’s complaint in verse 20 was that David “uncovered himself before the eyes of his servants’ maids.” No wonder David’s queen was so resentful at her husband’s performance!
Yet this was also part of Michal’s problem. She saw David’s dancing as a performance, rather than the act of praise it was clearly meant to be, and she could not bring herself to understand that this was David’s way of honoring God, his way of spontaneous worship, if you will. So far as Michal was concerned, there was a right way and a wrong way to express devotion, and David’s dance went far beyond her every notion of decorum. But I think this passage in the Bible encourages the question: to what extent does decorum matter when we are seized with gratitude? Does it matter what you wear when you’re praising God? Does it matter what you wear when you’re in church? So far as David was concerned, there was no better way for him to express his sheer exuberance at the return of the ark of the covenant than to break out in unrestrained dancing. For David, what mattered most was being free to express his gratitude to God. To Michal, what mattered most was how he comported himself as he did so. And I believe the Bible is rather clear as to which concern is the more important.
David’s dance was, in a way, liberating for him. He let himself go and burst out in spontaneous praise, unencumbered by anyone else’s ideas about propriety. In the same way this story can also be liberating for us. You and I don’t need to be tethered to anyone else’s expectations when we feel like thanking God for what God has done for us – not our families’ expectations, not our neighbor’s expectations, not even our minister’s expectations. That said, I’m not certain what I would do if you all started dancing in the aisles during a hymn, or if you all trimmed down to your loincloths and ephods in the middle of the sermon. But I would like to believe that I’d be the last to ask you to stop. Nor are we limited to praising God in church, either. David danced in the streets of Jerusalem. The streets of Chester, or Essex or Deep River, or whatever paths we follow through the week, are just as appropriate to celebrate God. Anywhere, and in the presence of anyone are the right place and manner to show your appreciation for God’s blessings, regardless of what anybody else thinks.
It is worth noting, David was not the only one viewed with suspicion for his lack of restraint before God. In our New Testament lesson today, Claudia read about a reaction similar to Michal’s among some of those who were closest to Jesus. Jesus had recently performed a whole host of healings, and a huge throng started following him wherever he went. Even sitting down to dinner was difficult for him, so insistent was the crowd for yet another miracle. So his friends, doubtless with Jesus’ best interests in mind, decided to take him and shelter him from the crowd, in some ways to protect him from the burgeoning throng, and, truth to tell, in some ways to protect him from himself. After all, it was agreed among them that Jesus was slightly dotty for letting the crowd follow him. “He is beside himself,” they whispered to one another, a polite way of saying that Jesus was slightly off, his behavior suspect. And in a way, they were right: Jesus was beside himself, or as the word actually means, Jesus was ecstatic – ecstatic with the power of God. Again, people watched him, and whispered, and wondered, and asked, “Where is the propriety in this man’s behavior? Has he no sense of comportment and decorum before Almighty God? Why doesn’t he behave the way the rest of us do?” You and I know the answer to that one, that Jesus was filled with the spirit of God. But even with the advantage of hindsight, I daresay that were anyone to come into our midst and behave like Jesus, or dance wildly about like David, we too might be whispering among one another.
Is it all right to do the unexpected before God? Is it all right to disregard what other people might think of us just because we feel free to express our faith in new and creative ways? Is it all right to sing out praises or shout our “Amens? Is it all right to dance – for joy – because of everything God has done for us? I sure hope so. I know there are times I am overwhelmed by God’s multiple blessings, but, proper Congregationalist that I am, the best I have been able to muster so far is a broad smile and a barely audible, “All right!” Who knows, though – perhaps the dancing will come later! In fact, the dancing will come later, during Coffee Hour. I think we all have our ways of showing our happiness and gratitude when we feel that God is really doing good things for us, and through us. I think the point of our lessons today is that we are free to express our feelings toward God openly, whether they are feelings of exuberance, as with David; or feelings of extreme compassion, as Jesus felt; or even feelings of puzzlement, or disappointment, since even the most faithful of folks will have difficult days. And if someone looks askance at us because our behavior does not accord with their own sense of decorum or presumptions about worship, at least we will know that King David is in good company. As that great poet and philosopher Frank Zappa once said, “I may be totally wrong, but I’m a dancin’ fool!”