Ballet

 “To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Thes. 1:11-12).

Ballet—power controlled, beauty in tandem, dance. It is this beauty is captured in Paul’s prayer for the Thessalonians.

There is a fine, noble beauty in worthiness: “that our God may make you worthy of his calling.” Worthy. We long. We strive, work, fail, cry out, caught up in our own failing. The burden of being worthy is crushing; the dancer’s legs bow and the muscles give out in the strain. But look! “God may make you worthy!” It is God who causes it; we cannot. We are like the ballerina guided by her partner. We dance, move, sway but at the direction, guidance, and power of the Partner. The fact that Paul here is praying and not just urging or exhorting shows how much we cannot make ourselves worthy.

But what does it mean to be worthy? What is that je ne sais quoi? We cannot. We are not. Tired, strained muscles know that; our hearts know it. But worthy has a face—it is Christ. He is the picture of worthiness. List off the characteristics of Christ and you will see worthy. Love to Father. Obedience. Humble. Giving. Loyal. Dedicated. Single-hearted. Compassion. Truth. Grace. So what does it mean for us to be worthy? It means for us to be found in Christ, to be in union with him, and so to become like him. It means to become now what we are positionally. A six-year-old is a ballerina—but how much she has to grow to capture the true beauty, grace, balance of an artist! So, too, we grow into Christ’s beauty that he has already given us. We are, but grow, like a shadow solidifying.

What is the onerous burden of religion is the joyous freedom of the Christ-indwelt. We are not alone in this training to become worthy. We, like a ballerina, have a Partner who makes us worthy, trains us, fine-tunes the movements, choreographs the dance. Beauty. It is God who makes us worthy. The strain and pressure is off; we joyfully respond, muscles and body tuned to his slightest bend. Joyfully we unfold in worthiness, in Christlike character. Can you feel his strong hands guiding? His artistry unfolding in choreography as we swirl and sway and pirouette?

But we do respond. The dance is not complete without the loving response, freely given, of the ballerina. The ballerina is not motionless; not passive. Every bit of her soul is in tune with the Choreographer. In the context, the Thessalonians are growing in faith, loving, enduring (v. 3, 4; although Paul gives the thanks to God, for this too comes from the Lord of the Dance!). It is the Thessalonians (and our) resolve and our works of faith that God fulfills. So we are active in doing, desiring, dancing—but by God, his power, his transforming, his strength. We dream for our Lord, and he fulfills.

“…may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power.” But any resolve? Doesn’t this sometimes butt up against reality? When I had dreamed of going overseas to be a missionary and now? Wasn’t that a good resolve and a work of faith? Or when David desired to build a temple? Or Paul resolved to go to Spain? Or a resolve to raise a child up in the right way only to have them wander? When the addiction seems stronger than our resolve and we keep falling again and again? When dusting and dishes seems to hinder our desire to minister and serve? Where is God’s fulfillment?

It is a prayer rather than a promise. We must remember that. But I think it is perhaps also a prayer that our resolves and our works become more and more in line with God’s own will and works. Like Christ and his Father, we work in tandem, dance in duet in perfect fluid harmony, beautiful ballet. As we wait and pray for our fruition, our hearts are purified and transformed. Resolves are deepened, aging sweetly deeper into his heart.

And God brings fruit in its own time. Training takes time, but to rush it, to perform before training is complete or before rehearsals have been run steals from the climax. The show itself must build up to its climax. And even as we wait, God is perhaps working to bring it to fruition. The boring strength training is toning muscles.  We wait, seemingly tied and earth-bound, but the stage and costumes that we cannot even imagine are being prepared, out of sight, out of our awareness.

Paul prays that it is our works of faith that God will fulfill—and we may have to have faith to trust how God will fulfill it. Remove our individualistic lenses. Remove our instant-gratification-microwave lenses. David’s temple was built—by his son (and then by an even greater Son, who was the true Temple!). The gospel was preached in Spain, even if Paul didn’t bring it there himself. But the Choreographer will bring beauty.

But Paul’s prayer does show the beauty of the ballet. We dance, we participate. God directs, guides, gives power, lifts the dancer, helps her fly, helps her dance fluidly with him. Can you feel his strong hands?

We dance “by his power”! What confidence we have! The ballerina knows it is her partner who lifts, propels, catches, guides. She is free to jump and bow and swirl. We know it is his power that will make it come to fruition, in his might, his goodness, his wisdom. This is what propelled Paul and the apostle’s great boldness and confidence.

We dance “according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.” All grace, all grace! Our worthiness, our resolve, our faith, our fruit—it is all by grace.

We dance “so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him.” He is glorified by our fruit that he brings to pass, by the grand performance, the beautiful ballet. He is glorified by a people walking worthy of him, by a people whose resolve mirrors God’s own. And we are brought closer to glory as we are made more like him, the Lord of the Dance.