When I heard the news of the assassination attempt at former president Trump’s rally I felt a pit in my stomach. I pray for him and his healing, for the other victims, and the shooter, and all of their families – and for all people in our neighborhoods, cities, country and world who live in the shadow of violence.
We are a deeply troubled nation, addicted to fear and vengeance and firearms. Lord, in your mercy, break our weapons of war, bend our spirits of hate, forge in our souls the desire to work for your peace.
I hope that whatever these next months hold and whatever the future of this country…that we as a church will find our hope in following Jesus and seeking to embody God’s kingdom of peace.
Please pray with me: God of peace, we marvel at your glory and celebrate your goodness. In this moment of worship, help us to hear You and sense You, so that we might be freed to live with generosity and love. Amen.
When I hear the passage from 2 Samuel 6 read – I’m taken back. To some summers in high school during evening worship at Camp Mennoscah, a Mennonite camp on the banks of the sandy Ninnescah River in southern Kansas.
A favorite song of many campers with its invitation to wild singing and dancing was the David Crowder Band classic “Undignified.” Referencing King David’s ecstatic underwear-clad expression of praise during the entrance of the ark into Jerusalem – for us highschoolers – we’d commit to this song with gusto and abandon – yelling till our voices were horse and sweat was dripping down our faces.,
[Play excerpt of song]
I will dance, I will sing, to be mad for my king.
Nothin, Lord, is hindering this passsion my soul…
I will dance, I will sing, to be mad for my king.
Nothin, Lord, is hindering this passsion my soul….
And I’ll become even more undignified than this…
some may say it’s foolishness
And I become even more undignified than this….
leave my pride by my side….
To dance and sing and scream and jump on our feet with a hundred other peers was electrifying. Not just a memory but an embodied experience I can still feel today.
The world of the 2 Samuel text isn’t as far away as it might seem. We humans are hardwired to worship. Whether its full stadiums packed to the gills for the Taylor Swift Eras Tour or die-hard soccer fans belting their anthems of support or red-hatted rally-goers waiting to hear their leader … we humans are hardwired to worship.
The question is always WHAT are we worshipping and HOW do we worship. As Psalm 24 asks, “Who is this king of glory?” Who this queen of majesty? Who do we worship?
What are we willing to stake our lives on? Who is it that we dance with abandon for when we’re in their presence?
Whether it’s worshiping the mysterious God of glory we read about in the scriptures and see revealed in Jesus or something else – we will always find something to worship. We’re always looking for a reason to party.
And the entrance of the ark of the covenant into Jerusalem was a big reason to party. The ark of God was ready to enter the city of David.
The ark – this most sacred object for the people of Israel – held the tablets of the law. It was an acacia wood, gold-covered chest, with two cherubim on its golden lid called the mercy seat – where God’s very presence would settle.
The ark had been built in the wilderness to hold the gift of the law and had traveled with the people of Israel across the Jordan River into the promised land. It had been carried into battle as a talisman of sorts. It had been captured by the Philistines. But sometimes the ark brought calamity and death to those who interacted with it. So the Philistines returned the ark.
And now king David, wants to bring the ark, this reminder of God’s presence with the people, into his city, Jerusalem. But excited as he is, he also has reason to worry.
I don’t want any of us to worry – but I do think that God’s mysterious freedom to be God should cause us to wonder. I don’t want any of us to be afraid – but there can be something a bit terrifying about willfully and intentionally entering into the presence of the divine.
It can be scary being asked to pray or preach – You want ME to say something about God or to God? I don’t responsible for that! – and then there is the terrifying silence of sitting with someone who is suffering. As much as we long to know and draw close to the divine mystery that was and is and is to be – to actually get up close and touch and see where God’s glory dwells can be a terrifying prospect.
To get up close with God means we will be changed – and we don’t know how until we actually do. And the unknown can be scary.
David sets out with good intentions to bring the ark to Jerusalem. Oxen pull the ark on a new cart built to carry it. A crowd of tens of thousands press in for the occasion – dancing and singing with every manner of instruments amplifying their jubilation.
But when they arrive at Nacon, where the hard packed earth of the threshing floor must have caused the ark to begin to lurch from its cart, Uzzah one of the oxen-drivers, reaches out his hand to steady it. And right then and there we are told that God’s anger was kindled and God struck Uzzah dead.
I’m not going to try to explain this one – but the point is made: you’ve got to be really careful when handling this ark of God. Worship can be dangerous. David is angry after this killing. His worshipful party has abruptly stopped. And he’s also scared of God: “How can the ark of the Lord come into my care?” he asks. So David has someone else hold onto the ark for three months while they wait. It’s only after David sees that this other household is being blessed by the ark’s presence that David continues on his mission to bring the ark to Jerusalem.
This second time things go better. For every six paces the ark was carried – David sacrifices an ox and a fatling. They traveled into the city at the pace of barbecue – low and slow. And as the thick wafting plumes of sacrifice swirl through Jerusalem and trumpets and shouting reverberate – David dances.
But he didn’t just dance – David danced with all his might.
We still dance like this today – but usually it’s with smoke-machines and strobe lights and thumping music at a club or concert…or when we’re highschoolers at summer church camp.
Worship isn’t only wonder at God’s mysteriousness; worship is also the ecstatic and jubilant celebration of God’s presence in our lives.
And sometimes celebrating God’s presence with us takes a lot of work. For us at CHMF it takes a worship calendar and someone to print bulletins and and someone to do finances and make a budget and someone to set out hymnals and give pitches for songs and play piano and pray and bring snack and clean up after the party is over. Sometimes we get tired of all this work.
Anyone who’s every thrown a party knows that they are a lot of work. But I hope we never forget the reason why we dance and shout and sit in silence and laugh and pray and dream at the party that is the church.
We worship because God’s loving kindness moves us to pause in wonder and dance in celebration and share what we have with the community that only God makes possible.
Our passage ends with David blessing the people and distributing food to everyone – men and women alike. Each gets a cake of bread and a chunk of meat and a cake of raisins. And then everyone goes home. Maybe you just see here a savvy political leader appeasing the masses with entertainment and sustenance to hold onto their power.
But at a deeper level – this blessing and sharing of grain and meat and fruit – is the embodied recognition that all we have and are comes from God. Worship is the joyful embrace of this reality that everything we need comes from God. We are children of God.
And when we recognize this – we become like the gates of the city, lifting up our heads to look up and see the God of glory entering our lives in mysterious and remarkable ways.
Who will we worship and how will we worship in this one wild and precious life of ours?
May we worship the God of glory in grace and truth – and with joyful and undignified abandon – our whole life long.
Amen.