No matter what other people think. July 11, 2021. The Rev. David M. Stoddart

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19; Mark 6:14-29

 So I’m sure you’re all wondering . . . what’s an ephod? Well, maybe you’re not wondering but I’m going to tell you anyway. There seems to have been two different kinds. One, worn by the high priest, was an over-the-shoulder garment that was no doubt dignified and suitable for ceremonial occasions. The other kind of ephod, the non-priestly variety, was, in essence, a loin cloth. That is what David is wearing in this dramatic reading from Second Samuel. He is bringing the Ark of the Covenant, the sacred box which contains the tablets of the law and which represents the very presence of the LORD God, into his new capital of Jerusalem. And while thousands of people sing and play harps and tambourines, castanets and cymbals, the King of Israel, naked except for a loin cloth, dances before the LORD with all his might.

It’s quite a scene, but then, in a rather creepy way, the lectionary juxtaposes that dance with a very different dance in our Gospel. The daughter of Herod is dancing before her father and his courtiers and officers. She is very entertaining and they all love it, so much so that Herod promises to give her anything she wants. So she consults with her mother, and they decide on a grisly reward: the head of John the Baptist on a platter.

These two very different stories have one other thing in common besides dancing, however: embarrassment, or the lack thereof. Herod makes this extravagant promise to his daughter, who then demands the worst kind of payment. No one would claim that Herod is a deeply religious person, but as the Gospel records, even Herod knows that John the Baptist is a holy and righteous man. Mark tells us he is deeply grieved at the thought of beheading him. But Herod is even more afraid of losing face in front of his courtiers and friends. He promised this girl anything she wants, and now he doesn’t want to look bad by reneging on that promise. He would rather murder an innocent man than do right by God and feel embarrassed.

David, on the other hand, has no such qualms. He gladly makes himself look foolish. He throws dignity to the winds and dances with all his might before the LORD. Saul’s daughter Michal despises him for it, and perhaps others do as well. But if so, so be it. Embarrassment will not hold David back. He will worship God and rejoice in God’s presence no matter what other people think.

This is the wondrous thing about David. He has many gifts, but is a very flawed man: he commits adultery with Bathsheeba, and then has her husband Uriah killed; he is a loving but dysfunctional father who overindulges his sons, leading to Absalom’s revolt; he carries out a census with disastrous results. But through it all, he loves God: when he fails, he repents. When he messes up, he prays for help. And always, always, always he worships, with all his heart, mind, and strength. And he’s not just paying lip service: he sees the beauty of the LORD all around him and feels the spirit of the LORD within him. Throughout his life, he rejoices in God’s love. And so the Bible affirms him to be the greatest of all the kings of Israel.

I am a priest, so I guess you could say I am a professional worshipper. But long ago I realized you can lead church services without really worshipping at all. It’s easy to feel distracted, easy to go through the motions while your mind and heart are elsewhere. So I made a decision early on in my ministry to follow the example of some beloved mentors and the example of my biblical namesake and really worship whenever I am in church. There may be a hundred things wrong in the parish, there may be dozens of people who are upset with me for one reason or another; I may have screwed up badly during the week; it may be scorching hot outside or pouring rain; there may be bad attendance; the heat pump may be broken, the toilet may be backed up, the world may be a mess — but I am going to worship and worship with all my might. No, I won’t dance around the altar in a loincloth (for which you can all give thanks), but I am going to give myself to the words I hear and the words I speak. I am going to pray as fervently as I can. I am going to preach as powerfully as I can. When I offer someone the peace of Christ, I’m going to mean it. I’m going to eat and drink Jesus at the altar and let the Holy Spirit flow through me. I am going to love God and I am going to love you with as much of my heart, mind, and strength that I can muster. And I’m going to do it no matter what other people may think.

And I share all that with you because I want to encourage you to do the same. Don’t just sit in the pews and go through the motions: worship. Give yourself to God during this service. Because when we do that, we become more alive. Worship is not about stroking God’s ego — God has no ego to stroke. We don’t worship because God needs it, we worship because we need it. We need to taste and see that the LORD is good. God is an infinite wellspring of love and beauty, an unending source of goodness and strength. And as Jesus reveals, God wants to pour all of that out on us. The more we give ourselves to God in love and gratitude, the more God’s abundant life fills us. And God delights in that! There is no end to what God will give to us, no limit to God’s love. If there is something preventing you from experiencing that more fully, then I urge you to let it go. Don’t let fear or guilt or boredom or embarrassment or the jaded opinion of others hold you back. The only reason to be together right now is to worship God. So let’s do it as best we can.