Dance
of Joy
a sermon based on Ephesians 1:3-14
by Rev. Randy Quinn
It happens every time
we go out to dinner with my parents. We have a nice meal, and
when it’s over, we ‘fight’ over who is going to pay for it.
Sometimes I grab the bill too quick for Dad to realize I have
it. Sometimes he takes it out of the server’s hand. And even
when I have picked up the tab, Dad will often throw a $50 bill
on the table. It’s the tip," he’ll say to provoke me into
letting him pay. It’s one of those dances that we all do.
I didn’t realize the real significance of it, though, until
the first time our son-in-law was my dance partner. I found real
joy in being on the ‘other side’ of the table when he picked up
the tab. But it also made me realize that this ritual really
serves two functions. It’s not only a way of expressing our
appreciation; it’s also an expression of independence. It
explains why even on those occasions when I know I will not be
paying the bill, I feel compelled to be a part of the dance.
And I know you all know the kind of dance I’m talking about –
you’ve probably witnessed it or participated in it before.
We often operate as if there is a similar dance of faith.
Sometimes we enter into a dance with God as we try to
please God with our activities.
Sometimes we think that we can express our appreciation
by coming to church or by serving on a committee or by
making apple dumplings.
Sometimes we pick up the tab without realizing that it
was paid in advance.
And when we begin to do that, we get dangerously close to
denying our dependence upon God’s grace. You see, God invites us
to participate in a different kind of dance. It’s the dance of
grace. And in this dance, we are the receivers. The gift is
given to us.
During the Reformation, people like Martin Luther wrestled
with the concept of grace. Prior to the Reformation, the common
understanding of grace was the whim of God on the Day of
Judgment. Most people lived in fear of this ‘grace’ because
there was no way to ascertain how God would respond to them.
They simply would die, meet their maker, and be judged. At
that moment there would either be grace or there would not be
grace. Nothing they could do would change how God would respond
at that moment in eternity. It was simply God’s whim of the day
to grant life or condemn to death. No wonder they call it the
Dark Ages!
When I graduated from college, I was commissioned as an
Ensign in the Navy along with several of my friends and
classmates. Some of them had volunteered for Nuclear Power
School and began careers involved with Nuclear Powered
Submarines. Part of their selection process was an interview
with Admiral Hyman Rickover.
Admiral Rickover was a living legend at the time. He was the
engineer who pushed Congress and the Pentagon to use Nuclear
Power and then served as the head of the Navy’s Nuclear Power
program for the rest of his career – or maybe more accurately –
for the rest of his life. He had promised a safe use of Nuclear
Power and stayed in the Navy to keep his promise. He retired,
under protest, with almost 50 years of active service, and died
a short time later.
Everyone who served aboard US Submarines during his ‘reign’
has a story to tell. There are stories about his interviews with
each candidate for Nuclear Power School. There are stories about
his visits to Nuclear Powered ships and submarines. Some of them
are even true!
Rickover had so much authority within the Nuclear Power
Program that whatever he said was taken as the final word.
Needless to say, when he visited one of ‘his ships’, he came to
inspect. And if things weren’t just the way he wanted them, the
Captain was ‘fired’ on the spot.
As a Supply Officer, I never had an interview with Rickover.
And I was fortunate to never have him visit one of the ships I
served, either. But I did know that there existed a list for
Supply Officers in the event Rickover came to visit.
The list had items that he had asked for in the past which a
prudent Supply Officer would make sure were available. The list
included things like seedless white grapes as well as the color
of blankets he liked on his mattress when he went to sea.
Nuclear Power trained officers lived in fear of this man. His
interview stories were told and re-told. It seemed that Rickover
would always test people with the most unusual questions and
tactics. In one interview, he had the candidate sit in a chair
in his office while the Admiral wrote some notes. No words were
spoken. No eye contact was made. The chair had one leg shorter
than the others, so the candidate was uncomfortable as Rickover
continued to work. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the
Admiral let the man go.
Days later, he learned that Rickover had accepted him into
the program. Everyone agreed that the system was not fair. Some
very competent people were turned down because the Admiral
didn’t like their answers or attitudes or posture. Rickover
acted like a lunatic at times and the candidates were the ones
who suffered. But what he said was the final word. So everyone
did what Rickover said.
(In all fairness to Admiral Rickover, the Navy’s Nuclear
Power Program has an impeccable record in terms of safety.
Whatever he did seems to have worked.)
To the people of Marin Luther’s day, God was very much like
Admiral Rickover. And to people I served with in the Navy,
Rickover was very much like God. But Marin Luther and the other
Reformers couldn’t accept the idea that God was so subject to
whims and began to study with a different set of questions and
to listen with a different set of ears. What they eventually
heard was a radically different form of grace. It was a grace
that is experienced in this life – on a day-to-day basis. It’s
the kind of grace that Paul is celebrating in our text today.
You can’t tell from most English translations of this text,
but our text for today is one VERY LONG sentence in Greek.
Eleven verses long, in fact. The New International Version uses
seven sentences in their translation; the New Revised Standard
Version uses six – and some of them are rather long!
Whenever I use long sentences, I find that it’s from one of
two things: either I’m trying to capture a multitude of ideas
with one thought or I’m so excited that I’m just running on from
one thing to another.
I think Paul is doing both here.
He has some important things to tell us, and he is excited
about their implications. It reminds me of when our daughter
Melissa was learning to crawl. She would see something she
wanted and in her excitement her legs would go faster than her
arms and she’d collapse onto the floor. Then she would rock back
and forth in what we called her ‘beached whale impression.’
Paul is so excited about God’s grace that he can’t find words
to fully express it. So he falls all over himself as he begins
to weave poetry and hymns together in way that makes our heads
swirl!
In him we have redemption through his blood, the
forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of
his grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and
insight he has made known to us the mystery of his will,
according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ,
as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things
in him, things in heaven and things on earth. In Christ we
have also obtained an inheritance . . .
Eph 1:7-11 (NRSV)
It’s the kind of excitement that makes you want to get up and
dance! You’ve probably seen the video clips of people who ‘win’
the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes. The people who ‘win’
are seen jumping up and down with excitement. That’s what Paul
is doing with words. He’s jumping up and down with exuberant
joy.
And what about us? Why not us? Too often, I’m afraid, we’d
rather find a way to pick up the tab ourselves. We’d rather
express our independence than celebrate the gift we’ve been
given.
Dr Lloyd Ogilvie tells the story about a man who nearly
missed out on a gift because of his intense need for
independence. A lawyer asked Ogilvie if he knew where he could
find this man who had once been active in a church Ogilvie
served. It turns out the lawyer was trying to settle his
father’s estate – which included a significant inheritance for
the man.
But the son had slipped out after the funeral because of the
broken relationship he had with his father. He slipped out
before he could learn the extent of his father’s love for him.
Meanwhile, the man had been living in near poverty.
Our inheritance from God is more significant than money. Not
only have we inherited eternal life through Christ, we can also
experience abundant joy in this life! God has done all the work.
God has come to us. God has offered to us a gift. God has picked
up the tab. Grace abounds! And all that’s left for us to do is
to dance. It’s a dance of joy. It’s the dance of celebration.
Earlier this month, my niece was married in Denver. The
reception included a dinner and a dance. It was more than a
dinner. It was a feast. And it was more than a dance; it was an
evening of dancing. It was a festive occasion filled with great
joy for the nearly 200 guests who were in attendance.
But no one offered to pay the tab. No one fought over the
bill. We all knew that this was a gift that we were meant to
enjoy.
That’s the kind of joy God invites us to share here in the
church. We serve, not to earn God’s pleasure but in response to
God’s grace. We don’t try to pick up the tab. We simply find new
ways to celebrate. Thanks be to God. Amen.