Lord of the Dance

Statues of the Hindu god Shiva often depict him as Nataraja, an ecstatic lord of the dance. Circled by flames, with multiple arms swirling, the deity of death and destruction dances atop a small dwarf, Apasmāra, representing ignorance. Whereas I acknowledge Hindus’ civil rights to worship what they want, as a Christian I marvel at the irony of the Nataraja statues. The 1.2 billion Hindus in India perform endless rituals to these gods in the hope of escaping the tedious cycles of life. Truly, the trampled dwarf seen here is not ignorance, but truth. The gospel is trampled and smothered by the vast pantheon of Hindu gods, frantically writhing and flailing, that Christ’s light might not shine into dark corners.

I have little time for Sydney Carter and his trite but catchy hymns, but his piece Lord of the Dance talks of Jesus being the source of all cosmic motion and divine energy, from the creation of the universe to His resurrection and beyond:

 

They cut me down

And I leapt up high;

I am the life

That’ll never, never die;

I’ll live in you

If you’ll live in me –

I am the Lord

Of the Dance, said he.

 

(Sydney Carter. Copyright 1963, Stainer & Bell Ltd.)

When Christ is your lord, sin is trampled and your ignorance of the One God destroyed.