Dancing Rabbi

A synagogue needed help.  They were in dire straights, and morale was low.  They called a famous Rabbi to help them sort it out, to offer them insights and give them all the answers to the questions they were asking.  On the evening the Rabbi visited the shul, every pew was full, the congregation rapt, eager for wisdom and anticipated resolution.

As the Rabbi stood silent, the audience squirmed, puzzled and a little unnerved.  Then the Rabbi began to sing, and to dance glad hearted and effervescent.  The music filled the synagogue and the dancing Rabbi made his way up the aisle, where he invited members to join him.  It wasn’t long before every member of the congregation was dancing and the church walls reverberated with the spirit of the dance.  All evening they danced.  After, they sat, still intoxicated with the joy of dancing.  And only then did the Rabbi speak, “I hope that I have provided all the answers to the questions you were asking.”

Before we seek to manage life, maybe we should just live it.

Before we seek to analyze life, maybe we should just embrace it.

Before we seek to control life–nice and neat and tidy–maybe we should just dance.

Which all sounds good on paper, until you realize that you’ve finished the dance and still have no “answers.”  In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “Blessed are the Poor in Spirit.”  Translated it would be “Blessed are the confused.”  That’s just it; most of us aren’t in a mood to be blessed that way.

One of my favorite stories is about a magazine ad sponsored by the Humane Society, looking for homes for homeless pets.  A photo of a puppy and kitten–looking up at you from the page–catches your eye and your heart.  But it’s the affirmation on the top of the ad that sticks, “It’s who owns them that makes them important.”

Part of the conundrum is that we see any upheaval or disorder or disenchantment as an indictment.  Why?  Because we live in a world where we are owned by the need for perfection or arrival or tidiness or answers (including the right creed).  It is no wonder we so easily get derailed.  It’s a mentality summed up in this sermon excerpt; a cleric (apparently speaking for sectarians universal) forewarned the congregation, “Everyone is created by God, but not everyone is a child of God!”

He couldn’t be more wrong.  And as long as there is a voice in us that trumpets this message of scarcity and deficiency, we miss the invitation of the Rabbi: inside of every one of us–whether broken or splintered or lost or disoriented–is the exquisite beauty of a dancer and the child of God.

I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being. Hafiz

And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence actually liberates others.  Marianne Williamson

(NOTE: This story is an excerpt from my Monday Sabbath Moment.  If you would enjoy receiving Sabbath Moment, please sign up in the box in the left column, or go to THIS LINK.)