The Foolishness of Praise (10.20.19)

The Foolishness of Praise
October 20, 2019
II Samuel 6:1-5,14-15
Rev. Elizabeth Mangham Lott
St. Charles Ave. Baptist Church

David again gathered all the chosen men of Israel, thirty thousand. 2 David and all the people with him set out and went from Baale-judah, to bring up from there the ark of God, which is called by the name of the Lord of hosts who is enthroned on the cherubim. 3 They carried the ark of God on a new cart, and brought it out of the house of Abinadab, which was on the hill. Uzzah and Ahio, the sons of Abinadab, were driving the new cart 4 with the ark of God; and Ahio went in front of the ark. 5 David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lordwith all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals…14 David danced before the Lord with all his might; David was girded with a linen ephod. 15 So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet.

- II Samuel 6.1-5,14-15

The Lott Family was away last weekend to welcome a wife, sister-in-law, aunt, and daughter-in-law to the family. Good New Orleanians that we are, we arrived late to the party but with a carload of French 75s to share—a full 36 hours later than the first friends and family arrived to Vesuvius, Virginia. We trekked into Nature Camp just in time to grab a plate of dinner and make our way to the Friday night sharing time—something like a summer camp variety show. About 130 friends and family filled a room covered in twinkle lights and white, flowing tulle with a cool, autumn breeze blowing through the screens. It was the first time in months and months that we needed scarves and sweaters. The energy in that place was clearly that of abundant joy, and that energy only grew stronger over the next day. Friends sang, told stories, shared poems, blessed Micah and Laura, laughed hard, and danced wildly. 

I was amazed by the deep affection in this tribe of friends, especially. The friends who gathered in the woods for days on end to delight in friendship and in love. The easiness of laughter and of their kind words for one another. The depth of their knowledge and trust of one another. Their capacity to pivot from the seriousness of vow-making to the absolute foolish, un-self-conscious joy of dancing until 3 a.m.—practically half a day after the pronouncement of husband and wife was made. I watched with happiness for Micah and Laura but also true fascination, like an anthropologist stumbling upon a foreign culture. I do not have this kind of circle of friends in my life. That’s not to say that I don’t have close, beautiful friendships. But I cannot imagine a circle of my very own whirling dervishes who dance to celebrate love with me. In fact, I do not know if I personally have the same capacity for absolute foolish, un-self-conscious joy.

Now I’m aware that I’m an enneagram 4, and if you participated in our study of The Sacred Enneagram this summer, then you’ll recall that we 4s are prone to some envy and chronically believing something is missing in our lives. We’re also prone to some dramatic flare with our big feelings. And then there’s the ever-attractive penchant for melancholy sprinkled atop all of that. So I recognize that a wedding in the woods with twinkle lights and candles and wine and flowers and best friends dancing and laughing and delighting might set me up to navel gaze and consider how my own life is lacking. I get it. I name it. I lay myself bare before you.

And yet. 

And yet.

Friends, let’s be honest, we as a congregation, we as a gathered people here, we as a community of smart, committed people of faith, devoted to asking questions, seeking justice, loving neighbors, and welcoming all…

When was the last time we lost ourselves in joy and delight? When was the last time we danced and danced and danced together? Has there even been a time? We have definitely been dance adjacent. I’ll give you that. On our beloved Timmy’s final Sunday with us as associate pastor, we delighted in the surprise of 610 Stompers breaking out in dance to “Let’s Go Crazy” and “Stand Up and Get Crunk.” That’s one of my prouder moments as a friend and as a pastor, I must say. Total silliness. Pure play. To have the Stompers lead a dancing benediction to Prince and the Ying Yang Twins is a highlight of my first six years here. And our friend is here today because he came to town to dance yesterday! Twice!

I missed the celebration of our lovely Kathy Randels’ 50th birthday last night, and I can only imagine the delight and twirling and raucous dancing and toasting that must have gone on to rightly celebrate one who roused us all to sing and dance her daddy home to heaven, who led The Graduates to dance through the aisles of this sanctuary and the chapel downstairs and spaces all over this country as a sign of defiance, resilience, and perseverance, who brings flare and joy and rhythm to everything she does. I bet there was some dancing last night.

We dare to move a bit, just a bit, in those very final minutes of our annual jazz worship service with Dr. Michael White and the Original Liberty Jazz band—whether late February or some time in March—we rise to our feet at the first note of “When the Saints Go Marching In.” But rarely do we move from our pews. And even more rarely do we dare to second line. We are staid and responsible in our joy. Like Mary, we carry all of these things in our hearts and just let it stay right there. Just enough and not too much. Our circumstances here are controlled, and dancing through the streets is limited to about two weeks a year in New Orleans, so it’s understandable that in this particular context, we are more in our heads than we are in our bodies.

And yet.

And yet.

We have texts before us this morning of wild delight and joy at the presence of God. Big celebration of a people going home. And it’s not just limited to David’s wild foolishness. Ecclesiastes famously tells us of a time to weep and a time to dance, the prophets assure the people of God that dancing with joy will return after their mourning. Miriam grabs a tambourine and leads the women singing and dancing after God guides them through the sea.  Yes, David gets sloppy in 2 Samuel and doesn’t honor all of the rules about how the ark is to be treated, but for the snapshot of the scene before us and its partner in Psalm 150, we’re just focusing right now on that absolute, foolish, un-self-conscious joy. 

Professor Elna Solvang writes: “In the second half of today’s reading (2 Samuel 6:1-5), David leads a massive procession to accompany the transfer of the ark of God …to the new capital, Jerusalem. The ark, a large box, functions as God’s throne; a visible place for God’s invisible presence. (See Exodus 25:10-22.) The ark went ahead of the Israelites as they journeyed through the wilderness.

The ark’s first home in Canaan was in the sanctuary at Shiloh. During a battle with the Philistines, the Israelites called for the ark to be brought into battle (1 Samuel 4:4), but the Philistines captured the ark. Possession of the ark proved disastrous for the Philistines in Ashdod, Gath, and Ekron.” If you’re a child of the ‘80s, think Raiders of the Lost Ark and the terrifying scene where everyone who dares to look upon the Ark perishes in face melting terror. For ancient people, the Ark is thought to have that kind of power, so “[t]o protect people from violating the holy presence of the LORD, the ark was moved to Abinadab’s house and his son Eleazar was consecrated to guard it.

By retrieving the ark from Abinadab’s house in 2 Samuel 6, David sets out to deliver a visible sign of the LORD’s presence and dominion in the new capital.” This is big. What’s happening here is significant because David is leading a wild, joyful, dancing, loud, music-filled procession with every belief that God in right there in the midst of the dancing. They are delighting not just because they are heading to Jerusalem but because God is with them, in their midst, and they are going wild as they do an ancient, Israelite second line the whole way. 

“Other ancient Near Eastern rulers demonstrated their allegiance to their god(s) and signaled divine favor upon their rule by processing a statue of their city’s god into the capital and housing the statue in a temple designated for that god.” So what’s happening in this scene is in keeping with what other cultures around them would do, but the Ark itself is believed to house God. So this is not a statue, this is presence. This is a God-with-us procession of delight and joy without a finished, perfect plan for what happens next.

In fact, Elna Solvang notes, “Two things stand out in the account of David’s procession: 1) there is no temple in which to place the ark; during David’s reign it will reside in a tent; 2) the procession is interrupted (in the verse following the end of today’s reading); a reminder that the divine presence and power that accompany the ark are not under David’s control.” The details aren’t all worked out, someone dies because the Ark isn’t even being carried in the right way, and there is not a permanent temple to even house the thing. But the dancing joy continues. The foolishness of praise cannot be squelched even in the face of senseless death. This is wild! Friends, this is an absolutely nutty testimony to the presence of God. What are we to do with this story???

Time goes on. “As the kingdom is united under David and the ark of God arrives in Jerusalem, the monarchy assumes a new role in protecting and promoting Israel’s religious life. Subsequent royal households will be judged on how well they fulfill that responsibility. The ark procession is a form of religious pageantry; a noisy and joyous profession of God’s protection and blessing, and of God’s residing in the midst of God’s people.”

Their absolute, foolish, un-self-conscious praise is a profession of faith in God’s protection and blessing. Their dancing and delight are testimony to God’s presence in their midst. Their wild joy signifies how seriously they take their calling to care for God in their midst.

The opening verse of Psalm 150 is more praise for God’s protection and blessing presence in the very structures of creation. Autumn mountain breeze, crisp October blue sky, birds making their southward flight, the last of summer’s dragonflies, piles of pumpkins gracing our porches—everywhere in creation is a sign of the one who shapes the world and gives life to ‘everything that breathes’ (Psalm 150:6). 

Friends, do not be afraid to respond with pure joy. Absolute, foolish, utterly un-self-conscious joy. Dance and delight and lose yourself in the praise of God in our midst. Let the stuff of your head and of your heart move through your body in celebration of what is good and right and true and beautiful and present. Today, here, and now.

Amen.


Marc Boswell