An admission from the start: I don’t follow any of the popular TV series that would give me so much wonderful sermon material, if only I paid attention. And so, I haven’t watched the one show that would provide a wellspring of information for today’s message: “Dancing with the Stars.” Yes, today’s sermon will be about dancing with a star. The problem is: God hasn’t exactly blessed me with the greatest coordination skills. Whatever progress I have made over the years has come with effort. I am even remotely not qualified to talk about the art of moving your body in rhythm with music. There are people here who are much more qualified in that department. Yet, that’s what I am about to speak about this morning, fool that I am!
One of my favorite hymns and one that I always want to sing on Holy Trinity Sunday is “Come, join the dance of Trinity.” And that’s not only because I like the melody and music of this song; it’s also because I deeply appreciate the thought that God is in a perpetual motion of dancing. In fact, as I prepared for this sermon, I learned that the Greek word “perichoresis,” which the old philosophers and theologians often used to describe the inner-workings of the Holy Trinity (it literally means circuition; going around), is only one letter removed from the Greek word for – you guessed it – dance. Meaning: God’s very being is not far removed from the idea of an endless, mutual dance. So, let’s brush up on our dancing and coordination skills! (And thank you, Bree and Hailey, for showing us the way!)
This could be a revolutionary thought for those of us who feel a bit intimidated or just uninspired by that big word which defines today’s liturgy – “Holy Trinity,” – a God who exists as Three in One and One in Three, whatever that means to you. How do you make sense of all that? Well, maybe you don’t. Maybe you take a cue from dancing. Can you tell me, what happens to the dancer who self-analyzes, who tries to understand while being on the dance floor? I can tell you because I have done it: that dancer looks funny! Awkward! That dancer looks like he is trying very hard, which is not a compliment. If I know anything about dancing, at least theoretically, it is this: you don’t use your brain too much, you let your body think for you – which is notoriously difficult for thinker types! That’s life’s way of exacting justice…
In the same way, we probably should get away from trying to intellectually wrap our minds around the mystery of the Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit and instead embrace God’s very being by getting on the dance floor, moving to the rhythms of ministry in joyful worship, in passionate ministry, in practiced charity, even in the motions and e-motions of weeping at one’s side in a moment of shared pain. All that is part of the eternal dance that God shares with us, infusing our lives with purpose, beauty and energy. If we get that much out of Holy Trinity Sunday and get moving, it’s much better than any remote intellectual understanding of God that we might be able to achieve, however flawed, with our brains.
So, I have something in common with many other people, maybe with some of you: I am envious of good dancers. I enjoy watching them, people becoming one with the music, a couple flawlessly and creatively forming a unity in the perpetual motion of dance, a whole dance troupe coordinated to one tune. The old philosophers said: that’s how the unity is between God the Father, God the Son, God the Spirit. They work together, but it is not work, rather a joyful moving around. They listen to one another. They respond to one another. They are one in motion and it looks effortless!
So, the best way to “understand” Trinity is to experience God’s movement in your life, to embrace the heavenly music that God dances to (on his I-pad in heaven). To be a Christian in this world is probably nothing less than an art form. It is nothing less than listening to God’s music and finding your very own way to respond and dance to it. For some people, it leads to a life of serving others as Jesus served us. And the best of them will tell you this: although it may be hard work and may require significant sacrifices, they enjoy doing it and wouldn’t have it any other way. For some people, it leads to a life of mission and envisioning new ways of being church. And although that can be hard because a vision of how things could be takes convincing of people, unanswered emails, turned down invitations, sometimes deep frustration; but the best of them will tell you this: “I couldn’t live any other way because I feel called to respond to Christ in that way.” The churches that are alive are dancing churches: they are vibrating with new ideas to be God’s servant; they are feeling the Spirit and express it in prayer and worship, in love and in kindness.
What kind of dance are we doing here in our church? Lutherans have been known for ballroom dancing: following a certain set of rules and carefully rehearsed steps. That can be quite beautiful. But it’s not the only way to dance. I have been at a few wedding receptions this year. The best of them mix up the music. There are some songs that go beautifully with the classic dances that have been around for generations. There is some newer music for individual tastes. There are some beats that rock the floor. When you are dancing with God, you will not be restricted to one style, but find what works for you.
In Matthew 28, at the very end of the first gospel, Jesus gives his disciples this wonderful command: “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Sounds a little bit like ballroom dancing. Clear instructions and rules: you baptize people, you teach them Christ’s ways, you follow the choreography of Jesus, and if you get stuck, the dance instructor is never far away. Yet, as Christians reached out to other people in this great and diversified world of ours, they found out quickly that the rules that made sense for a Jewish person in the first century, where not so compelling to their contemporaries in the communities sprawling around the Mediterranean. So, the early church did the unthinkable: they changed up some of the rules (you can read it in the Book of Acts if you like…); but they still listened to the same heavenly music, the tune that Christ had given them and they tried to be in rhythm with God’s melody. To me, that’s what Holy Trinity Sunday is about. That’s the art of being a Christian. I am still not a great dancer, but I try to listen to God’s music and get it into it, and so should you!
Amen.