Recently, I went dancing. A late 70s/early 80s era Jukebox from a nearby Pizza Hut cranked out tunes on the 45 player. I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun. Of course, oldies but goodies filled the machine. Songs like “Crazy” by Patsy Cline, “I Will Always Love You” by Dolly Parton, and “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers rolled out into the evening. Best of all, “Dancing Queen” by Abba stirred memories of ye olden days.
Whenever the stressors of full course loads and part-time jobs overcame us, grad school classmates danced away our woes. Picture a motley crew of seminarians jumping up and down in time with those golden sounds. Can you imagine? I seem to remember some of us climbing trees and swinging on the playground. Some days, I wish we could recreate those kinds of releasing, refreshing moments for an hour or two. Parish life calls us to reality.
As for dancing in the Bible, despite the church-teaching in the movie “Footloose” and in many congregations of my youth or childhood, it’s in there and it is good. Dancing is a form of worship and of praise.
Psalm 150: 4 — Praise him with tambourine and dance; praise him with strings and pipe!
Ecclesiastes 3:4 — a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance
Jeremiah 31:13 — Then shall the young women rejoice in the dance, and the young men and the old shall be merry. I will turn their mourning into joy, I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow.
Psalm 30: 1 — You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
2 Samuel 6; 1 Chronicles 13, 15 — King David goes dancing with wild abandon as he leads the ark of the covenant.
How I wish I could dance well! My mother gave it her best effort. Tap and ballet classes were all opportunities afforded me by my parents. I still remember positions 1 and 5 and how to do a plie. My progression in dancing skills didn’t advance past 1985. Trust me.
Some years ago, I stumbled upon a wonderful compilation of songs that, for the most part, make me want to dance. If I need to clean house or rock out some chores that don’t need clear thought, I’ll crank up the volume and jam to “I’m Every Woman” and “If You Could Read My Mind.” For boldness, there is “I Will Survive” and “I Am What I Am.” And for those other times, “It’s Raining Men” and “Finally” turn tears into laughter.
Sermon titles paralyze me. Some preachers are witty. Other good-news-tellers are quick, or floral, or pointed. From where I sit, coming up with a brief, little label that frames a person’s viewpoint of a message they are about to hear, or have just heard, or missed because they’re homebound is a brutal concept to form. Shakespeare said that “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” So what is in a name?
You can’t tell me that when you meet a person, your view of that person isn’t shaped by her/his particular name. Pseudonyms online, birth names, nicknames passed on by fraternity brothers – each one impacts how we connect with others. I’ve got a good friend everyone else calls by his last name (actually, there are a number of guy-friends who fit that category). In my mind, it just doesn’t fit him – maybe because I know everyone in his whole family. I just can’t use it instead of his given name. On some level, I despise the way that a nickname sort of boxes someone into something inside which they do not fit.
Over time, I’ve garnered a number of nicknames, one of which I’ve had since birth (which, by the way, most people cannot seem to pay enough attention to spell correctly, even when they’re looking right at it). Others came in college and in my working life: Giggles, Navigator, Preacher-lady, PK. In a deeper way, I prefer my given name. Still, it sounds so grown up! (And am I really that grown up?) These days, my given name feels private, personal, intimate instead of formal. It is, after all, the one I use to sign the most important things.
Maybe all this crisis of identity explains the struggle to name and frame a blog. While my given name means “Pure Grace,” I wonder if I’ve lived up to it, or if I will eventually. Similarly, will a title for a blog adequately frame the reflections and conversations, ideas and dreams, creative expression and longing?
Each year during the twelve days of Christmas, we pastors have the opportunity to preach on the Name of Jesus. Eight days after birth, a child is presented in the temple for circumcision and naming. Jesus is no exception (Luke 2:21). Even more, he has oodles of names:
• Jesus/Yeshua/Joshua – “saved;”
• Emmanuel – “God with us;”
• Messiah/Christ – “Anointed One;” • and many more
What were the possibilities for this little online collection of thoughts and stories? “Out of the Fishbowl:” When I started this gig more than 10 years ago, I was warned about the fishbowl-aspect a pastor’s life. Social media has helped me to see the power of sharing life rather than carving away parts that are mine. I have come to recognize that while people are curious, they are no longer invasive. Or at least I haven’t had anyone digging through my trash in a long, long time. Something about “The Tree of Life” appeals, but I shall save those reasons for later writings. Fun possibilities about my adventures with my 7 year old Bichon Frise also popped up. In the end, there was something a little more grounded in my desire for growth and learning. Ultimately, I believe we write and share not to teach, but to learn.
So, we arrive at this name: “Teach Me Wisdom in My Secret Heart.” It’s a title I chose years ago as I began public ministry at the age of 25. I collected my writings, prayers, poems and pondered publishing them. Maybe somewhere along the line, I’ll pull those things out and share them here. Some have already been printed in resources for the academy and transmitted to churches across the land. Others are within the pages of a friend’s book. What is the source of “secret wisdom?” Seek out the lines of Psalm 51. The journey begins.
1 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. 4 Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and blameless when you pass judgment. 5 Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me. 6 You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart. 7 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Whiter Than Snow
8 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice. 9 Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. 10 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.
Create in Me a Clean Heart
13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. 14 Deliver me from bloodshed, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance. 15 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. 16 For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased. 17 The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. 18 Do good to Zion in your good pleasure; rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, 19 then you will delight in right sacrifices, in burnt offerings and whole burnt offerings; then bulls will be offered on your altar.
*I’ve emphasized my favorite elements of the psalm.
teach me wisdom in my secret heart 