Luke 24:36-49 - "Just Keep Dancing"

         A number of years ago, Joe and I took a series of beginner ballroom dance classes in Portland.  The studio was downtown in a storefront on Congress Street.  That was interesting because you never knew if you would have an audience of bag ladies or down-at-the-heels men curiously observing any given class. 

         Our instructor was a tall, dark-haired young Russian gentleman who had once been a competitive ballroom dancer.  His name was Zergai, and he had one cardinal rule:  You were not allowed to dance with the person you came with.  I understand his reasoning.  It was so that we could get used to dancing with a variety of partners.  However, for me, it was problematic because I really only wanted to be able to dance with Joe.

         The class also turned out to be not exclusively a beginners’ class at all.  Now do not get me wrong.  There were certainly those of us learning dance steps for the first time or, in my case, re-learning basic moves I had once mastered decades ago at Miss Wilson’s dance studio in the fifth and sixth grades.  However, there were also a number of quite accomplished competitive dancers who returned to the beginner classes in order to “refine their steps”. 

         That also was problematic, especially if you ended up being partnered with one of the more intense competitive dancers.  Those folks were there, putting up with “the rest of us” in order to prepare for an upcoming competition or to make personal amends for a previous pitiful performance.  In contrast,  “the rest of us” were there just because we loved to dance and had absolutely no delusions of grandeur.

         Zergai’s classes had a certain predictable pattern and format.  He would teach a step, and we would practice it a couple of times.  Then he would teach another step, and we would practice that step.  Then he would demonstrate a third step and sometimes even a fourth step, and we would dutifully repeat the latest one.  

         This style of teaching was also problematic because, at some point, Zergai would announce in his clipped Russian accent that we would now put all those steps together.  More often than not, by the time we had learned the fourth step, I could no longer accurately remember the first one.  That was particularly problematic if I happened to be paired with one of those more intense competitive dancers who strove for nothing less than perfection – even with an imperfect partner.

         Needless-to-say, Joe and I no longer take dance lessons.  We have our own style.  We know exactly what to expect from each other on the dance floor, and we just keep dancing – not always knowing what we are doing, but joyfully dancing just the same.   

         As I reflected this past week through our lens of dance on yet another post-Easter appearance story set in that upper room in Jerusalem, I realized that my words of advice to the disciples gathered around after they had encountered Jesus would have been these:  “Just keep dancing.” 

         You see, the disciples were not quite sure about this resurrection business. In fact, the Gospel writer of Luke tells us point blank that they “still could not believe”.  However, Jesus goes ahead anyway and instructs them to get ready to start spreading the good news of repentance and reconciliation, beginning in Jerusalem, but soon thereafter fanning out to all the nations. 

         In short, Jesus tells them to just keep dancing.  Why?  Because, he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that they have everything they need to dare to dance again.  They have been witnesses, he tells them, witnesses to everything that has happened

– not only everything that has occurred in the past three days since Jesus’ execution, but also everything that has transpired in the past three years.  In short, they have been witnesses to all that love can do – heal the sick, feed the hungry, turn water into wine, and even raise the dead.  What more do they need?

         According to the Gospel writer of Luke, who sets the scene for this vignette, it is Easter Sunday evening, and the horrible few days previous are still fresh in the disciples’ minds.  However, that very morning, as we know, a couple of the women had brought word that Jesus’ tomb was empty and that angels had said he was alive. Peter and John had dropped everything and rushed to the gravesite, only to find an empty tomb as well.  The bottom line was that none of it made any sense. 

         Then the appearances started – first to Peter and a few of them on the beach by the Sea of Galilee.  Then two more of them declared that they had walked with the Risen Lord on the road to Emmaus, that he had taught them the meaning of the Scriptures, and that they had recognized him when he broke the bread for supper.

        It was while the disciples listened to that latest astonishing story that all-of-a-sudden everyone was aware of a Presence in the locked upper room, something or someone that was not there before.  Luke makes no bones about it.  It was Jesus showing up, and when he did arrrive in the middle of listening to that crazy Emmaus tale, the disciples were terrified and feared that Jesus’ ghost had come to haunt them. 

         Now, it is very important to the Gospel writer of Luke to convey to his readers that this could not possibly be so.  He needs to convince them that resurrection does not mean hanging around the living as some sort of haunt. 

         As Roman Catholic priest and writer John MacKinnon explained in his commentary on Luke, “Within the culture some people believed that in the case of violent, untimely death and improper burial, the residual “person” went around (as ghost or spirit) vainly seeking to be united to its original body. Jesus had certainly been violently and untimely murdered. Luke was concerned to emphasize beyond doubt that Jesus was not some shadowy, residual “person”. Resurrection was more than the uncertain continuation of some spirit or ghost. It was more, indeed, than immortality.”

         To make his point clear, the Gospel writer goes on to say that, once again, Jesus showed the disciples the scars on his hands and feet.  He even invited them to reach out and touch him and so be assured that he was no ephemeral ghost. 

         However, even that was not enough to convince these folks of little faith.  So, in order to provide additional proof, Jesus asked if they had anything to eat. 

         Silly question!  Of course there was food around.  After all, wherever two or three or more are gathered with him on their minds - well, that would be like the church – and we know there is always food around at church gatherings. 

         And sure enough, the locked upper room was no different.  There just happened to be freshly broiled fish on hand, and Jesus ate it – not because he was particularly hungry but in order to convince his audience that he was real, that he was more than real, that he is reality itself. 

         The Gospel writer does not tell us whether or not this nutritional demonstration convinced the disciples.  I am guessing that, because faith has a habit of coming slowly and is always coupled with doubt (which is a good thing, by the way.  As Presbyterian pastor and theologian Frederick Buechner notes:  “Doubt is the ants in the pants of faith.  It keeps it alive and moving.”), because faith and doubt are linked so closely, the fact of Jesus eating fish was probably not 100% convincing. 

         However, Jesus does not seem to care if the disciples are not completely onboard.  It does not matter to him that he must appear to them again and again, that they cannot believe just once and for all that he is alive and not a figment of their imagination, that he is bursting with new life and is the fulfillment of God’s promise that love will overcome anything, even death. 

         And so, Jesus goes on to explain just how all of Holy Scripture pointed to this moment and to his presence as the one who embodied God’s dream for the world.  Then, still not knowing if they had really wrapped their minds around this phenomenon called resurrection and what it meant for them and for the world, he tells them to get ready anyway because he intends to send them forth to preach and to heal and to forgive.

       Why them?  Because they are witnesses to all that love can do.  They may not have it all together, but Jesus instructs them to dare to dance again anyway.  Why?  Besides, he says, they will have the Holy Spirit to guide them – and she is a darn good teacher.

         And so it is for us – we who are Jesus’ 21^st century disciples.  Faith comes slowly to us as well.  It would be nice if the world were black and white, if we could easily tell right from wrong.  It would be nice if nothing ever threatened to dismantle or shatter our faith – a tragic accident, a devastating and undeserved illness, all sorts of bad things happening to all sorts of good people.  It would be nice if simply by answering an altar call or making a personal proclamation our salvation was assured.

         But deep down inside – because we are sitting here in this church and not in some fundamentalist mega-church – deep down inside we know that life is not that simplistic.  Life really is a journey – a difficult one at times – and faith is not always easy. 

         And yet, this passage assures us that Jesus understands that sometimes it is hard to dance again – especially if we are not sure of the moves. He understands that we are going to need to be told over and over that his resurrection is real, that he is real, that he and all he stood for is reality itself.  He understands that we are going to need ongoing evidence that new life abounds in what so often seems like a dead and decaying world and that transformation is possible when often any change at all seems highly unlikely. 

         He understands all those limitations, but (and this is the catch) he does not let us off the hook.  Just as Jesus commissions his first disciples to heal loneliness and take care of the impoverished, to mend broken relationships and love the unlovable, so he also commissions us.  Even though his first disciples could still not completely believe even after he appeared to them in a variety of contexts, he still sends them forth to minister in his name. 

         And so it is for us:  Even though this resurrection business still does not make complete sense to us (and probably never will), even though we may be slow in our faith and tentative in our steps, Jesus still sends us forth to minister in his name. He still dares us to dance again.  About that we really have no choice because we are witnesses to the power of love.  Its rhythm is part of who we are as Jesus’ followers.

         Even though we may be unsure of our moves and sometimes cannot remember all we think we need to know, Jesus dares us to dance again – with the Holy Spirit as our guide – and she is a pretty darn good teacher. And so I say to you just as I would have said to those tired and frightened disciples in that locked upper room so long ago:  Just keep dancing!