My First Rave
The joy of dancing...
Into The Blue is about finding joy in simple pleasures. One of those pleasures is dancing.
A few weeks ago, I did something so far outside the norm for me that I’m still having trouble believing it actually happened.
What did I do?
I went to a rave.
Now, let me tell you all the reasons that is crazy. I mean, for all of you who know me personally, you already know. But for the rest, I’ll explain.
I just retired. To the world, that makes me old.
Other than my wife and kids, no human has seen me dance in over 30 years.
I’ve never been to a rave.
I’m an introverted stoic. Doing wild things hasn’t been on my dance card for a long time.
I go to bed at 8PM.
Prelude to a Rave
So why did I do it? Well, because I just retired, I never dance in public, I’ve never been to a rave, I’m shy, and I go to bed early. It’s time to shake things up, don’t you think?
I mean, it’s literally right there in the poem:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas, Do not go gentle into that good night
I have a vision for retirement. It doesn’t involve going gentle. I intend to learn and make mistakes and push myself and push boundaries and be free and grow and be better. I’m chasing joy like a madman. God in his grace has blessed me with abundant life, and I’m going to live like it.
But it’s not just that. My child (let’s call them O), invited me to go. I mean, a parent-child dance. Who could say no to that?
My mind flashed back to long ago when I spent time alone with each of my two kids (now wonderful adults) at the amusement park hitting the roller coasters. You can’t match that pure joy and excitement and bonding. Maybe it would be like that?
So, I went to a rave. I wasn’t sure what to expect. But actually it turned out to be exactly like the roller coaster thing. I can sum up the experience in three words: MOST. FUN. EVER!
Let me tell you a little about it. I was in Seattle for my little one’s completion of medical residency. That’s a big deal. O has worked and sacrificed for years and years to finally get to this point. What a joy it was to celebrate with them!
Doctor O invited me to go to the rave; it would be good for my health. So I said yes. I was a bit apprehensive but excited.
The rave was deep in the forest in the Cascade mountains. I found this reassuring. I feel at peace in the woods. Still, I wondered about the seeming incongruity of thumping techno and flashing lights in a serene, wooded paradise. How would that work? Would the ravers honor the sanctity of nature or trample it underfoot?
The rave was for the queer community. I was less secure about that. Not only did I seem likely to be much older than everyone, I was also not part of this community. How would people receive me? How would I fit in?
O, their dear partner (let’s call them T), and I went together. For me, that was the key. Being with people I love and trust made me feel safe.
It turns out I needn’t have worried.
Burn and Rave at Close of Day
We arrived stone sober, got our glitter on, and headed to the rave. You could hear the music through the trees in the distance. It was a strange sensation. The place was charged with excitement, yet nature did not cede the ground. The tall pines, the damp chill, the burbling stream infused the place with calm. Somehow, the paradox worked.
We had to check in and get a bracelet. There were friendly volunteers everywhere, fencing the space, making sure people were safe, ensuring nature was respected. Who knew ravers would leave no trace.
We walked around and checked the place out. A DJ booth in an ancient clearing surrounded by pines. A beautiful stream passing behind. A tea tent. Wait, what? A tea tent. You could go there to rest, chat, get recentered, and have some wonderful tea. Who came up with that brilliant idea?!
Then we mingled. There were so many nice, delightful, eccentric souls. They treated me like family. One shared their birthday cake. Another offered part of their dinner. No one judged me. No one said, but you're too old to be here, you’re too straight to be here. They just accepted me as is.
There were no masks. Okay, well, there were some masks, and costumes too, but no metaphorical ones. People just shared who they were and what they felt. Many felt fear. Fear of our political leaders and their followers, fear of those who have Christ on their lips but not in their hearts, fear of the hate metastasizing across our country like cancer.
But the fear passed quickly in this place. Here the trees didn’t judge. And neither did anyone else. Here people were free and accepted. Strangers were family. Here there was joy. It was then I realized this was a sacred place.
So we made our way to the clearing. As it filled up with people, it struck me that this spot may have hosted many dances over the centuries. The DJ’s music was so infectious and the people so welcoming.
Before I knew it, I was moving to the beat like everyone else. Okay, well, maybe not as up to date as everyone else, but still moving. Dancing with O and T, dancing with friends, dancing by myself. I stopped worrying about what I looked like and let go.
As darkness fell, all life’s troubles faded away. For a brief second, it was just me and God. Ecstasy without the ecstasy. My heart nearly burst with gratitude. I felt so blessed.1
It was then T tapped my shoulder. Snapped back to reality. It was time to go. Hours gone in the blink of an eye. Could it really be?
Postlude
Reluctantly, we three walked back to the car in the darkness, still stone sober but with a new lightness of spirit, the music slowly fading behind us, the smell of the forest rich in the night air.
It felt like love. It felt like joy. It felt like peace.
Thank you, O and T, for bringing me on the journey. I love you.
A Short Meditation
Wearing a linen ephod, David was dancing before the LORD with all his might, while he and all Israel were bringing up the ark of the LORD with shouts and the sound of trumpets. As the ark of the LORD was entering the City of David, Michal daughter of Saul watched from a window. And when she saw King David leaping and dancing before the LORD, she despised him in her heart.
This passage is a sacred invitation. An invitation to travel back in time, an invitation to travel into the future. Come and see. Come and be changed.
You see, this was a key moment. The Ark of the Lord was God’s special habitation; his presence in the midst of his people. For the Lord is Immanuel, God with us. The Lord God, the true king, was entering the capital of Israel in royal procession to reside with his people.
David, the Lord’s appointed earthly leader, knew his place. He removed his royal robes. First and foremost, this was God’s moment. In fact, David was so sold out for God, so overjoyed in his presence, that he forgot all decorum and danced wildly in front of everybody and their mother. Pure worship.
Of course, the haters hated – what unfitting behavior for a king. But God uses what the world despises to overturn what it values. On foolish faith he builds his kingdom.
And build his kingdom on this faith he has, he is, and he will. You see, this was not a solitary event. No, it is a moment that echoes through time, in Jesus the Son of David’s entry into the City of David a millennium later (Luke 19:28-40), in his ascension into heaven after his resurrection (Ephesians 1:19-21), in his outpouring of the Spirit on his followers (Acts 2:1-41), and in his return to come (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18).
And all along, the haters keep hating. Teacher, rebuke your disciples (Luke 19:39). Crucify him (Matthew 27:22)! They have had too much wine (Acts 2:13). That’s just what they do.
Still, God wants you to dance for him. He wants you to lose yourself in delight of him. Why? Because he delights in you too. Because that’s when you become truly human, who he created you to be. Because he wants to use your foolish faith to bless others.
So forget the haters. Whether you’re sitting in a pew, cutting a rug, or scrubbing the floor, go ahead and let loose. Join the royal procession. Worship like no one’s watching.
The prayer that burbled inside me went something like this:
Thank you, my precious Lord, thank you for a life I don’t deserve. Thank you for family and friends who love me so fiercely, for a body that can still move, for nature so beautiful it takes your breath away, for volunteers who give their time and talents, for people who accept me as I am. Please, Lord, bless these dear people, sanctify this moment, multiply it like the loaves and fishes. Fill my heart with your love, that it might overflow to others. In Christ’s name. Amen.
I love this essay, Jeff. Start to finish, it's filled with honesty, compassion, faith, love, awe, humor...all of the good things.
God wants us to lose our self in delight of him because he delights in us! I love your radical, free, genuine delighting and loving of others, of life. Your prayer that you shared reveals your heart. There needs to be more Dad's like you. Huge Congrats to Dr O!