I wasn't sure, however, that being playful would work with the morning's story.  This month the theme is
worship and the Bible text for the day was II Samuel 6.  No problem until I read the narrative in II Samuel 6 and
remembered that this is a very odd episode in the story of David.

            David has become king.  With rule established in Jerusalem, he decides to bring the Ark of the Covenant,
where God's presence resides, to Jerusalem.  As the Ark is being transported, the oxen pulling the cart stumble.
The Ark begins to slide off the cart, and a priest named Uzzah puts out his hand and stabilizes it.

            Then comes this hard sentence from II Samuel 6:7:  "God smote him … and he died."

            Good grief, I thought as I prepared for my talk.  I'm supposed to tell this story to Kindergartners?  Well,
David calls off the trip.  Who in his right mind would continue after that?  Three months later, David returns and
brings the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem, this time with extravagantly expressed celebration.  "David danced
before the Lord with all his might" (II Samuel 6:14).

            Uzzah and David share this story.  One died; one danced.  The Ark of the Covenant -- the place where the
Israelites experienced God's presence -- was the occasion for both a death and a dance?  How can that be?

            Over the centuries as followers of God have reflected on this story, one insight has repeatedly appeared: it's
fatal to take charge of God.  One temptation for church leaders is to believe that God can be managed.

            Uzzah was a priest after all.  He was charged to take care of holy things.  But writer Eugene Peterson says,
"Holy Scripture posts Uzzah as a danger sign for us:  'Beware the God.'  It's especially important to have such a
sign posted in places designed for religious worship and learning."

            I should point out that Mosaic traditions gave clear directions regarding the handling of the Ark.  It wasn't
ever to be touched by human hands but carried by Levites using poles inserted through rings attached to the Ark.

            Uzzah ignored, or even defied, the Mosaic directions and substituted an ox-cart. Peterson says, "He had no
sense of the years of slow suicide that came to a conclusion beside the ox-cart."

            Standing before the children, I concentrated on David's dance.  As David returns to get the Ark of
Covenant, you sense that David knows he is on the edge of mystery, of glory.  And he dances with abandon.
"Imagine dancing before God with all your might," I said to the children.

            You might think had David learned from what happened to the priest Uzzah, he would have walked in
solemn procession in front of the Ark.  But this was not a religious duty.  David was worshiping, responding to the
living God.

When Michal, David's wife, saw this exuberant dancing, she contemptuously mocked him.  Alexander Whyte says,
"Those who are deaf always despise those who dance."  Shouldn't David be acting more like a king, organizing a
religion that made him look important?

            Clearly, David didn't care what others thought of his enthusiasm.  So I asked the children, "Have you ever
worshiped like this?"

            "Yes," a 6-year-old boy said.  "When I go outside I hear the wind blowing through the leaves and I know
God is with me.  It makes me jump around."  And then a girl said, "I can even worship God when I am asleep.
Cause we lost our cat the other day, and when I woke up I knew exactly where it was.  And I was right, and I said
to God -- 'Thank you.'"

            But a 7-year-old fellow pulled it all together, saying, "After my daddy and mommy tuck me in I lay in my
bed and think of God.  I get all tingly."

            "What's that mean?" I asked.

            "That means I'm alive, and it feels good."

            That's it, I thought.  Worship makes us alive.  King David knew, and this young boy knew that the glory of
God is a human fully alive.  We don't have to be careful with God.  If we try to politely manage God, we die.  But if
we let him take care of us, that's life eternal.

 Don Follis is an Urbana minister.  Reprinted with permission from the
Champaign-Urbana News-Gazette, copyright 2002.