A group of ladies were making their way towards us along the corridor, a little unsteadily, led by care assistants. We’d started the worship-service-cum-hymn-singalong in the second floor lounge while they made their way up from the bottom floor: it was ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’, known as ATB&B in the trade (Avoid This – Boring and Banal).
As I went to call a welcome, singing heartily, I saw the lady at the front moving in an odd way – in perfect time to the music, putting one foot to the other and taking a step forward. Then repeating with the opposite foot. And back to the first….
Nicole* was dancing.
I can’t tell you often I want to dance in worship. Not the ‘offer your hamster to the Lord’ other-worldly group dance, or the ‘caught up in the Spirit amongst a hall full of people’ dance, but the normal ‘kick your knees up and jig about in sheer unpracticed exuberance’ kind of dance. (Is that normal?!) I’m slowly introducing figures from country dancing into worship at our largely traditional Eucharistic church (strip-the-willow is a great image for the dance of the Trinity…). And here was Nicole, from the ground floor where all the doors are security locked to discourage patients from wandering: Nicole, void of speech, bright of eye, absolutely on the beat, dancing purposefully into the lounge for the service.
It’s not often I’m too choked to sing ATB&B – usually I’m thinking about the link to the next part of the service, and then find I’ve no idea what verse we’re on. But Nicole and I held hands and danced. I twirled her gently in a dignified way. Her brilliant black eyes reached out to mine in delight. I squeaked bits of the chorus, as I slowly processed the means God had used to answer my heart’s cry, and the trust he had placed in my hands. ATB&B couldn’t have gone on too long. It was redeemed for me in this moment, in this interchange of gifts: my need to dance being met so completely and beautifully by Nicole.
And I was reminded of a statement by Angela Shier-Jones that applies normally to pioneer ministry (which this wasn’t, although maybe those of us trying to pathfind a meaninful way of leading worship amongst people suffering with memory loss or dementia might be pioneering a little): ‘Pioneering ministry cannot be done to a community by someone who knows what they need, it can only be done with a community by someone who shares that need.’
*not her real name
