Once upon a time there was a young
couple who agreed to be dance partners for life. They vowed to only dance with one another until
in death they parted. They danced on
their wedding night; they danced on their honeymoon. During the early years of their marriage, they
danced frequently. They explored many
forms of dancing. They dirty-danced; they
waltzed; they tried acrobatics; they speed-danced; they slow-danced; they
danced between classes; they danced in the morning; sometimes they danced all
night. They knew that the marriage dance
floor was undefiled. Dancing seemed to
be part of the glue that kept them in sync.
As time went on, one of the partners
apparently could no longer hear the music. Dancing became unimportant. As a matter of fact, dancing seemed to be no
longer fun, but had become a chore and an obligation. So there would be offered occasional
obligatory dances. The one partner would
say, “Let’s just hold each other like we used to dance,” but it was confronted
with rejection with the response, “Oh no, I know what that will lead to – more
dancing.” The question was asked, “Can
we at least talk about the old dance steps?” That, too, was received with rejection because
the dancing conversation had become stressful.
They could watch Dancing With The
Stars or various forms of professional dancing, but there would be no more
frivolous dancing or experimentation in their relationship. The one partner who had become uninterested
in the dance agreement became hurt when they realized the other partner was
dancing on their own. When that became
an issue, the partner with the desire to dance started watching other couples
dance and that, too, became irritating to the uninterested partner. They felt if their partner needed to
self-dance or even watch other people dance, it was a perversion. Yet, they did not see that their partner was
crying out to dance and the only one who could fulfill that desire was their
partner. Somehow, abstinence of the
dance was not a perversion. The attitude was that your need to dance is not my problem. Yet, the partner was the only one who could
satisfy the dance need without violating the original vow.
So, the dancing slowed down to an
occasional crawl. There was very little
pep in the steps. Eventually, one of the dance partners lay
stricken on their death bed. The other
cuddled up next to them and whispered, “You were the music in my soul and the
best dance partner ever.” The rhythm was
gone and the music faded and there lay two old wrinkled bodies with only memories of what it was like before the devil stole their dance.
Written by Bishop Gabriel Abdelaziz
