“Come and follow” was our text for the morning worship service. Jesus gave this invitation to James and John, Peter and Philip. He used different words for the skeptical Nathanael (John 1:45-48), than he did for the outlier disciples of John the Baptist (John 1:35-38). But still the import was the same: Follow.
Walking around the room, sightlessly being led by my random partner, I was learning to follow. And the feeling of vulnerability, of trust, of not being in control were racing through me.
Did I mention we were in church?
A few months earlier, I had been in a class with Dr. Michelle Buck, a professor at the Kellogg School at Northwestern University. She took up tango dancing almost two decades ago “to get away from work” but instead realized that most of what she now knows and teaches about leading and following were lessons learned on the dance floor.
Worship was an embodied lesson of learning to trust the partner on whom your hand rested. It was believing she saw things I didn’t see and that she was watching out for me – leading us through a crowded floor filled with people all being led in a similar manner.
It was extraordinary.
I learned how important it was to concentrate not on the noise around me, or my own thoughts, but on our point of connection. This was my first lesson.
“Come and follow” Jesus said. It’s not about where I go, or where I think we are going. It’s not about whether the way is crowded or whether some stranger brushes my shoulder. It’s about the point of connection. My hand on his shoulder.
My first lesson from the Tango.