The Sacred Human Form

Diana Turner-Forte: Photo by Tim Sayer

By means of all created things, without exception, the divine assails us, penetrates us and molds us. We imagined it as distant and inaccessible, whereas in fact we live steeped in its burning layers. — Pierre Teilhard, The Divine Milieu.

Many years ago I received an invitation to dance at a church service. Unbeknownst to me, accepting that invitation would set me on a course that would irretrievably change my life. The experience would lead me on a path in which I would nourish something within me that would lean into a unique perspective on prayer and the body as an instrument for what I can only define as sacred work. Although the terms liturgical dance and sacred dance are often used interchangeable the context and manner of presentation in various venues are different; stimulated by creativity and attention to the holy. By no means codified or standardized I do consider sacred dance to be an art form and consequently have several criteria for the work I do.

While this post is not meant to be an in-depth discussion of sacred dance and all the nuances this particular mode of prayer offers, I hope it might serve as an introduction for the curious reader. Based on my experience of dance as a holy expression, I’ve come up with a short list (by no means conclusive) of several questions when considering the prospect of dance within the context of worship or as a tool for prayer.

1. Are the movements or gestures reverent?

2. What is the presenter attempting to convey through the movements?

3. Are there moments in which the congregation might participate through an experience of a deeply felt impression, image, or gesture?

4. Is there an overall theme or continuity in the movement prayer that is beyond entertainment?

Irenaeus of Lyon (c. 130-c.202), bishop and leading theologian of his time offers us words to ponder:

For even at its beginning the humble clay received God’s art…. therefore the flesh [body] is not to be excluded from the wisdom and the power that now and ever animates all things.

For the body to speak its essence in prayer is something that Western culture (for the most part) has lost, if it was ever fully appreciated at all. I believe this stems from fear or lack of trust of the body as sacred, a divine homing device. Removing the fear and anxiety of the human form it can be recognized as a dynamic and meaningful expression of prayer.

Granted this is not a task for everyone, but though years of experience I’ve discerned: “Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38). Throughout my training and dance career movement fully emerged as something sacred and therefore pursuing it as an act of prayer was a natural progression of my spiritual journey and my truth-speaking.

With a Master’s degree in Dance in Liturgy and Worship and 50 years experience dancing in numerous sacred settings, I can speak with authority on the subject of dance as prayer. Initially, in pursuing this quest I spent a great deal of time supplementing my work with churches by writing essays and creating bulletin inserts, referencing Miriam’s activity at the crossing of the Red Sea (Exodus 15:20-21) which was a celebration of sound with drumming and movement. Drawing on the words of Psalm 150: 4-6 which can be interpreted in no other way as the whole body in prayer and celebration, “Praise him with timbrel and dance; praise him with strings and pipe. Praise him with resounding cymbals; praise him with loud-clanging cymbals. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Hallelujah! And, yet another scriptural reference to the power of movement in glorious celebration is David’s dancing before the Ark of the Covenant in a rather ecstatic fashion “leaping and dancing” (2 Samuel 6:16).

And if that wasn’t enough to justify my work in ritual and prayer I even studied other cultures where dancing was embraced for bountiful harvests, thanksgiving for rain and its cessation, processionals of gentle and sublime movements for laying souls to rest. Dance was more than a random public activity; it was communal and an integral part of cultures rooted in the cycles of nature, life and death, joy and sorrow, and attuned to all of life being sacred, as well as being connected to something that was whole.

My versatile knowledge-base and research combined with a professional dance background allowed me to present dance in processionals, at the Offertory, as a meditation after the Eucharist, at Memorial services, a homily “Were You There?” on Palm Sunday and even prayer services for the homeless. I valued the insights I acquired in sharing an alternative mode of prayer that if viewed in the right frame of mind could be appreciated by the community to enhance the worship experience. Though my rational mind struggled with the whole concept, my soul knew from where I had received this inspiration, and from that Source I recognized my intent was not to change any one person’s mind about the efficacy of dance in worship, but merely provide the appropriate shapes and movements to incite a prayerful attitude.

I was experiencing the gift of the relationship of the sacred body to prayer; sharing with congregations and faith communities was an additional gift. The arts serve as invaluable links to spirit. Dance as prayer is no less valid then the truth that spoke to Hildegard of Bingen (12th century) mystic, theologian, and musician.

Humankind, full of all creative possibilities, is God’s work. Humankind alone is called to assist God. Humankind is called to co-create. With nature’s help humankind can set into creation all that is necessary and life-sustaining.

Historically, dance has played an essential role in the expression of almost all cultures, complementing all aspects of community life. It’s only in the West where dance is relegated to rigid rules and stringent studio training with the intended purpose of a finished product as entertainment within a well-defined container of spectators and performers. Sacred dance transcends that model. Hildegard addresses that concept—

A human being is a vessel that God has built for himself and filled with his inspiration so that his works are perfect in it.

Given that movement is such a natural form of expression for me, I’m more often bewildered by the lack of interest in the use of reverent physical expression that wants to vibrate through worship and sacred celebrations. Cramped in pews, eyes on prayer books, limited visibility, and stationary objects that inhibit movement, the call for fuller physical engagement is silenced. Though much of the structure of ritual is necessary, the both/and part of me yearns for more dialogue and acknowledgement of the possibilities of the soul in movement through sacred dance.

I wonder if this time of crisis in which we are participating now is a call for a more intentional awareness of movement, and an exploration of how the soul speaks to us through the body. Is the fear and faintheartedness of crisis inhibiting the flow of naturally occurring combinations? The kind already subtly flowing between body and soul, spirit and mind, silence and stillness. Might a subtle infusion of sacred dance create liberation enough to ease suffering and pain?

Perhaps Hafiz, 14th century poet wasn’t just dreaming when he penned “The Sacred Dance for Life”

I sometimes forget that / I was created for joy / My mind is too busy / My heart is too heavy / Heavy for me to remember / that I have been / called to dance / the sacred dance for life / I was created to smile / to love / to be lifted up / to lift others up / O sacred one / Untangle my feet / from all that ensnares / Free my soul / That we might / Dance / and that our dancing / might be contagious.

Now, more than ever may our prayers be turned into dancing to set ourselves right-side up again, and to free our hearts and minds from the prison of a crisis-ridden world.