I do not like to dance. I have never enjoyed moving my body creatively to express emotion, at least not in the modern sense. I would rather move it athletically. Additionally, I have never wanted to give other people an opportunity to judge my dancing, because I do not want to be seen as subpar in any area of my life (I am working on humility!). These two attitudes growing up resulted in me refusing to dance under any circumstances, even if I attended events at which you are expected to dance (weddings, school dances, etc.).
Then in college, I was hired by Catholic Heart Workcamp. It is an organization that puts on domestic and international mission trips for high school students and their chaperones. As a member of their summer staff, it was my responsibility to travel from city to city each week to set up the camp, feed the campers, organize tools, and make sure that my team and I generally met the needs of the campers who were doing the service in the local community. Another one of my responsibilities was performing on stage in the evenings for entertainment, giving witness talks, and organizing sacramental experiences. And of course, some of these moments on stage included dancing, both choreographed and freestyle. So I danced because it was my job. I quickly found out that I enjoyed some of the sillier moments of dancing, and that the more I leaned into it, the more I didn’t pay attention to my insecurities.
Was I a good dancer? No. But what I found was that I could set aside my pride in certain instances for the good of the whole. So as I entered adulthood, I adjusted my no dancing self imposed ban. There were two public places where I allowed myself to do some silly wiggles for the good of the group: weddings and retreat experiences.
Fast forward to when I was a teacher leading a Kairos retreat for some of our high school students. On the last evening of the retreat, I was asked to lead a dance party, and I acquiesced to their request. Having the CHWC playlist, I led a twenty-five minute dance party, and as was my custom for weddings and retreat experiences, I went all out. It was a sweaty time, but the students had a blast.
After the retreat in class one day, one of the students approached me about the dance party. He was a budding musician, and asked me why I had so much energy for the impromptu fun after such a long day. I drew on my own anti-dancing experience to form my answer. Sometimes, I told him, the leader of any activity needs to go above and beyond when they are leading a group of novices in that activity. Because of their insecurity or lack of experience, it can help to see someone doing the same activity with reckless abandon to help them feel comfortable doing it even just at half speed. To help illustrate my explanation, I used the relatable example of a musician who performs at a concert. They go all out for thousands of people who have various levels of participation in the show so that each person may have the invitation to be drawn into the performance. And they do this all for the love of the thing they are doing, and for the love of the people in attendance.
All of this is a prologue to the main point: This is the job of the saints. The saints on this earth go above and beyond, to the point of extreme foolishness out of love for God, and they become an example for others. This is why the blood of the martyrs are the seed of the Church. Whether a saint experiences red martyrdom (physical death) or white martyrdom (complete internal submission to the will of God), they willingly go all out for us as an example for fellow Christians and the rest of the world.
As a result, many people are inspired by them and attracted to enter deeper into the life of faith, whether that means increasing to half or full speed or somewhere in between. Their foolish witness gives the rest of us permission to look even a little foolish for the love of our God. They go all out so that we have the confidence to attempt the same. We are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses so that we can be joined with them in heaven one day.
This is why we need more saints. Every generation needs new men and women to put aside their pride, defy the judgment of the world, and lead others into holiness. And God is calling those people to be you and me. We must not have provisions for when and where we can be a saint like my self imposed dancing rule. Rather, we must always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks for the reason for our hope. In this way, those who see our example will have more permission to enter into the life that they are called to; Not a life of slavery to sin and fear promoted by the world, but a life of love that leads to eternity with our heavenly Father.
