As God Sees Her

 

 

 

I was prepared to worship.  I'd taken time before synagogue to study the Torah, Prophet, and New Testament readings for the week.  I'd been in prayer all the previous day about the service, praying that it would be a blessing to us, to everyone who came to service.

The first thing I noticed that morning was the scant crowd.  It's not a huge synagogue but generally the room was filled.  Not this week.

Then someone said the Rabbi was not there and the alternate music leader was ill with strep throat.  She was telling another person that she had put together a worship program using CDs and had asked the Davidic dance team to perform.  

I was disappointed.  It had been a long time since I'd tried to worship with 'canned' music, and I'd never really seen the dance team perform as they usually stepped into a side room which wasn't easily viewed.  I tried hard to bite back the deep disappointment that I felt.
John joined me in the synagogue.  "I heard in the back that Rabbi isn't here...and there will be no praise music except CDs..."  I could tell he was just as disappointed as I was.

The service progressed pretty much as usual with prayer and Siddur readings.  Then the worship portion started.  The CD skipped and someone fiddled with the volume.  It was far too soft and then too loud.  More adjustments were made. The dancers filed in awkwardly.  They seemed reluctant and unsure of themselves.  The group that normally filled the side room was considerably smaller.  There were only five women, two younger and three much older women.  The older women rested frequently, and a few sat out a song or two to rest. 

I wasn't familiar enough with any of the music to sing along.  I felt I couldn't participate in worship at all this day.  My disappointment deepened.  I decided I'd just close my eyes and pray for the message portion of the service.

After a few minutes, I peeked at the dancers and saw that an older woman was visibly scolding a younger dancer for not keeping the pace correctly.  Oh my!  I closed my eyes quickly and went back to my private prayers.

A song came on, stopped abruptly, and then another song began to play.  The audial interruption shook me from my prayers. I looked up. The dancers began to drop out of the dance one by one.  When there were just two dancers left, I closed my eyes and began to pray once more.  And then, more out of curiosity than anything, I opened my eyes. 

There was only the one older woman left dancing, the one who'd scolded the younger girl earlier.   She was short, a little rounder than some might think best for her height, a woman plain in dress and look and ways.

She was completely caught up in the song and in watching her we were all caught up, too.  She danced with confidence, her movements fluid and graceful, perfectly in tune with the lyrics of the song and the music.  My eyes filled with tears as I watched her dance in a state of pure worship before God.  She was transformed from a middle aged, plain person to a truly beautiful, perfectly athletic dancer.  She twirled and turned and leaped.  She bowed deeply to the floor and came up again, her hands raised in a lovely attitude of giving all she was to her Lord, her face shining, a smile upon her lips, her eyes bright.

As I watched her dance, tears streamed down my face, and I felt a sense of wonder, gratitude, awe, all of which she personified as she danced.  I heard sniffles throughout the synagogue.  This woman had not only transformed before us, but she had also changed each of us with her complete adoration and devotion.  When the song ended, no one moved, watching as she remained bowed before the altar.  I saw others wiping tears from their face, heard men blowing their noses loudly into their handkerchiefs.  And then the room broke into loud applause. 

Disappointed in today’s service?  No, not at all.  The day had been redeemed by this woman who generally remained in the background.  But not this day.  This day we saw the woman God sees and we were overwhelmed by the beauty of her transforming worship.