Dance as if no one is watching.

I've seen this phrase on tshirts. Jewelry. Inspirational posters.

It encompasses the thought that you should live your life with boldness. No fear. With abandon. Expressing beauty and creativity.

It is a wonderful sentiment.

Unless you have two left feet.

I am not a dancer. The whole feet-brain-arms-coordination-thing, is beyond my ability. Yet, occasionally, I have taken the Zumba class at the fitness center for a change of pace from my usual exercise routine.

And that phrase Dance as if no one is watching comes back to taunt me. It's fine to have people watching you, if you know what you are doing, but to know you are the center of attention, because you are clueless, is another matter.

When everyone else is going right, I'm going left. When everyone else is hopping, I'm stepping. Without fail, the instructor notices my clumsiness and comes to stand next to me, simplifying the steps, slowing them down, so I can get it.

I don't get it.

Finally, she laughs, throws up her hands in defeat and returns to teaching the class. I am left to my own devices as everyone dances and steps around me.

In Mark 14 and Luke 7, there is a story of a woman who didn't get it either.

Jesus is eating at the home of a Pharisee and a woman shows up with an expensive bottle of perfume which she breaks and pours all over Jesus. The woman then kisses his feet, cries so hard that she wets his feet with her tears and then mops everything up with her hair. People are indignant, call her a sinner and complain about the extravagant waste of valuable perfume.

She didn't get it.

She didn't get the fact that it is unacceptable to show up uninvited at an important person's home and then make a scene in front of all the dinner guests. She didn't get the memo that warned against religious leaders being touched by unclean sinners. She didn't get it that there are proper ways to behave and these ways do not include breaking open perfume bottles, crying all over somebody's feet and using your hair as a towel.

She didn't get it.

Or maybe she did.

Hidden in the story is a sentence that I have never seen before. When people were complaining, Jesus tells them to leave her alone and then says,

"She has done what she could…" – Mark 14:8

She has done what she could. At first I read that phrase almost with a note of defeat. Well, she has done what she could, the poor dear, leave her alone.

But then I looked at it again.

She has done what she could. It is not a cop-out statement. No. Absolutely, no. What she could do was costly. Over-the-top. Out-of-the-box.

Beautiful.

She danced as if no one was watching.

Extravagantly. Aroma floating throughout the entire room. The scent of the poured out dance. A bowed down, lips to the feet, bending low movement.

Love unashamed.

And the ones watching pointed fingers and were critical. Mean. Judgmental.

But Jesus said whenever the gospel is preached in the whole world, people will tell this woman's story. And this is why.

Because of her dance.

I imagine the people at the dinner party went home and their families had some questions about why their garments smelled like perfume, because, well, beauty and love poured out clings to you.

It gets on your clothes.

It gets under your skin.

And those people who were at the party didn't return home and talk about the rubber chicken or the overcooked vegetables or the decorations, they came home and said, "You'll never believe what happened tonight. There was this woman and you should have seen her dance."

Beautiful sacrifice poured out. It must be talked about. It cannot be silenced.

And reading about what this woman could do, makes me ask the questions:
What could I do?
What could you do?
How can we love?

How will we dance?

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