Hebrew Scripture Reading—Deuteronomy 26:1-11
A common stereotype is that white people can’t dance. While I like to believe this is not true of myself, in my younger days I went to enough dance parties to realize there is an element of truth to this stereotype. Some white people really seem not to have a sense of bodily rhythm on the dance floor. Be that as it may I also like to believe that all white people have some dance potential. They just have to find the right music. They just have to find a rhythm that works for them.
I remember when I was in high school my church youth group went on a mission service trip to the Appalachian mountains of West Virginia. That area of the country tends to be pretty white. My best friend on the trip was from Africa. His name was Ulemu, and he was from Malawi. It seemed like he was the only person of color for miles, so one might expect that we would not have found many dancers with rhythm around those parts. Decreasing our likelihood of finding such dancers was the fact that we were Presbyterians and had Presbyterian hosts. Often referred to as God’s frozen people, I cannot think of a less rhythmic group. Still, rhythmic dancing was exactly what we found one night at the Presbyterian Church that hosted us. Located in the basement of this church was the town’s weekly square dance.
At that point in my life, I was probably a fan of hip hop or some other fashionable music, so square dancing seemed like the farthest thing possible from being cool. I was not excited when I learned from our youth group leaders that this would be our “fun” activity for the evening. In fact, this news filled me with dread. I knew I was going to be clumsy. I wouldn’t know when to step or where to step. I was going to embarrass myself in front of all the high school girls in my group. It was going to be awful. Just recalling this, almost makes me break out into nervous sweats. To my great misfortune, I was stuck in one of those awkward teenage moments where participating in un-coolness seems to be the only option. So it was that I started to learn my dosy-dohs sweaty palms and all.
I am sure I was probably a clutz and stepped on Debbie Uchtman’s toes at the beginning and thereby fulfilled my greatest fear in life at that point, but by the end of the night I was having the time of my life. There we all were—boys and girls, white and black, popular and unpopular, low self-esteem and no self-esteem—and amazingly, we were all having fun despite touching each other’s clammy hands as we swung round and round. As a teenager, it was certainly a night for me to savor and remember.
As I look back on that moment with fondness, I also have an almost bitter-sweet feeling when I think about my life at that time. For all of the usual reasons of social cliques and the like, I was not always the happiest kid at school, and what I wish I knew then that I know now is that life has its seasons and that those seasons are in fact the rhythm of life. At some point later on, I learned that in life there will be times when you feel down and low. You might even feel like you are there to stay, but then if you but hold on and keep the faith, there will come a time when you find your groove again. You’ll find a beat to which you can move in step. You’ll re-discover the rhythm of life, and for at least one dance you’ll get to experience the grace of God one more life-saving time.
Our scripture for today is about the seasons of life. It speaks to the plight of peasant farmers in search of land. It promises them that there will come a day when they will look back on the hard times they have been through. On that day, they will remember when they wandered through foreign lands without a home. They will remember when they were enslaved in Egypt. They will also remember how God brought them through all of that, and they will realize how fortunate they are in that moment. They will feel the grace of God wash over them like a fresh rain. They will look at the bounty of their harvest. They will see that all of their sweat and toil has paid off. Their crops will have arrived. In thanksgiving, they will then bring their best fruits to their holy sanctuary as a sign of gratitude and dedication to God. God will bring them through the seasons of life, and then they will celebrate the grace they have experienced.
Up here on the altar we have vegetables that the Hettmans have brought for us like they always do at thanksgiving time. For new comers, the Hettmans used to be lettuce farmers, and they still tend to a garden. The past few weeks Bob has been in the hospital after having surgery on a brain tumor, so it was that I had to call the Hettmans and ask if they still wanted to bring vegetables. When I later went to visit Bob, they gave me their answer. They told me they were going to do it. It was a Hettman tradition, and they figured if they gave it up this year, they wouldn’t be able to get it back. So it was that yesterday Bob got a pass to get out of the hospital so that he could set up the cornacopia with Gertie and Lori.
As a former farmer, I am guessing Bob knows something about the seasons of life. Having heard him talk about those days, I know he can recall seasons of hard sweat and toil, but I also know he experienced the grace of the harvest as well. Bob is in a different stage of his life now, but I have learned from talking with him that he still knows something about the seasons of life. He knows about ups and downs. He knows what hard times are like, and he knows what God’s grace is all about.
In our text for today, we learn of what the peasant farmers of Israel did after they experienced God’s grace: first they dedicated an offering to God in thanksgiving and then they celebrated as a community united together. There community was not just any community. It was an unlikely mix of people. There were the priestly Levites, and there were the foreigners. There were the prosperous, and there were the orphans and widows. Together, all of them gathered to share in the bounty that God had given to them.
Today, it is common for some people to say they don’t need church. They don’t need a religious community. They are happy being spiritual all by themselves. I am not here to tell anyone their wrong, but something I think many of us can say from experience is that our faith is deepened and made stronger amidst community. Moreover, it is as a community that we are able to cap off our experience of faith and make it complete by celebrating together. Without community, we would just be clapping by ourselves and whispering to the wind, but in community we have the opportunity and the joy of sharing in God’s grace.
Regardless of how different we are, regardless of what stage we are at in life, regardless of whether we listen to hip hop or classical music, we are all here to celebrate our common faith together as a community. We might even find ourselves dancing. This morning is dedication Sunday, and we are going to do something a little bit different this year. Marnie and Ed are going to bring out our dedication basket. We are then going to march up here row by row as we dedicate our pledges to God in thanksgiving by placing them in this basket. As we march up here, we are going to sing the hymns printed in your bulletin. Now, these hymns have some rhythm to them, so I am going to invite all who are able to dance or do a special march when you get up to this area here. This isn’t a time to be shy. Remember that we are children of God, so at least try to stop and tap your feet, but do not hurt yourself trying to do a move you have not done since high school. By doing this, my hope is that we can each remind ourselves that no matter how rough life can get sometimes every now and then we are still able to experience the grace of God, we are still able to find the rhythm of life, and we are still able to dance once again. Amen.