Dance like David Danced

Last week I began to feel the real dance of David.  It is a dance that rejects all dignity and loses all sense of self.

In the back of the auditorium as the worship leader sang, I twirled and stomped and jumped and flailed.  My long necklace threatened to fly in my face and it had to come off.  My shoes had already found their place under the row of chairs, but soon my socks were annoying me as they scuffed on the new carpet and I tossed them in a corner.  My sweater was cumbersome. Off it came.  My earrings stuck in my flying hair. They too had to go.  Anything else and I probably would have gotten arrrested! 

I danced for justice.  I danced for mercy.  I danced for the rows of spectators all facing forward, numbly glued to their chairs.  I danced because God is holy. 

As I peeled off the layers of my identity for the freedom of the spirit, I heard the jeers of Michal ring in my head as if the words were aimed at me:   "How the king of Israel distinguished himself today! He uncovered himself... as one of the foolish ones....!"   It really hit me what David did when he danced "with all his might, girded with a linen ephod" before the ark of God.  (See 2 Samuel 6)  This wasn't a guy off the street in his boxers and tank.  This was the king of a mighty nation, who was shedding, bit by bit, all the signs and symbols of his authority as king!  His purple robe - it was cumbersome.  His crown - it was heavy.  His signet ring - it probably flew right off his finger!  His breastplate.  His jewels.  His shoes.  His scepter.  All the trappings of his very God-given identity! It all came off.

God became his identity.

Jesus, too, shed his identity as King.  Every right, privelege, and "perk" of being God, he forever thrust aside for a greater purpose, and now I was being challenged to do the same.  I was being challenged to do more than shed the outer accessories of my wardrobe, or even the tattered remnants of my reputation, in this wild dance.  I was being asked to clear the temple the way Jesus cleared the temple for the zeal of his father's house. Only this time, I was the temple.  And his zeal was his love for me.

To "dance like David danced" is not a form or even a ferver; it is an attitude that crucifies self for the love of someone higher.  It is a clearing away of all that is not worship.  It is abandonment of all I've achieved, all I've become, and all that I clutch for security.  It is Trust.  It is an exchange of fear for freedom, entitlement for abundance, proving myself for the relief of having nothing to prove.  At the end of my justifications, in the purity of my nakedness, I finally fix my gaze on him, the One who made me and loves me with everlasting love.  In the reflection of his eyes alone, I finally see beyond the garb of identity to who I really am.... his beloved, his priceless creation.

And I dance.  For sheer joy.