I never thought I would try Scottish dancing.
Never.
To me, the words "Scottish dancing" brought up images of men dancing in kilts to strange bagpipe music in some kind of Riverdance-looking line dance. Not a pleasant mental image.
But for the past few weeks I have gone with my wife to a Scottish dancing class in our church foyer. Yes, dancing in the church foyer is another image I thought I would never see. But I digress…
There is a lady in our church from Scotland whose daughter is getting married this weekend. Many of her relatives are coming from Scotland and they are expecting some good ol' Scottish dancing during the wedding reception. Unfortunately they will be disappointed with the "good" part but there will be some ol' fashioned Scottish dancing at this American wedding. Of course, after seeing us Americans try to dance to their music, they may wish they would have kept their William Wallace inspired wishes to themselves. But I digress again…
I am performing the wedding ceremony but I had no intention of learning Scottish dancing. I figured there might be 4 people showing up for such a class. Quaint idea. Good luck trying to get someone to come. But without me knowing it, my wife signed us up. She didn't reveal this little tidbit of information to me until about an hour before the first class.
"Honey, we have to leave in an hour."
"Where are we going?"
"To the Scottish dancing class."
I nearly choked on my mini-wheats.
My first inclination was to say "no" but in reality I had no excuse not to go. And I have to admit that there was a small part of me that wanted to learn to dance with my wife. After all, when you are a Bible college grad from a conservative Baptist background, dancing is not a part of your training. The whole "dancing" in the Bible thing is sort of skipped over. So the only time I had ever danced with my wife was a slow dance at a wedding or two. Is that really dancing? Or just swaying back and forth while hugging?
Realizing my woeful dancing deficiences, I figured what could be the harm in trying Scottish dancing for one hour. As long as no one is wearing a kilt we should be okay.
Well, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. I can't dance worth a lick but I certainly had fun…and had a cardio workout at the same time.
St. Bernard's Waltz, the Dashing White Sergeant, the Military Two-Step, Strip the Willow, and, my favorite, the Canadian Barn Dance (though I am not sure why the Scots are dancing in Canadian barns). All of them have specific steps that repeat over and over and generally move in a giant circle…with a lot of clapping, skipping, and "yeehaws" thrown in for fun. (I don't think the Scots do the "yeehaw" part.)
Not only was I surprised at how much I enjoyed it but I was also surprised that over 40 people showed up at different times to learn it. In fact, last night at our final lesson, we had just about all 40 people there. At one point, I sat back and watched…totally drained after dashing around during the Dashing White Sergeant.
I was amazed at what I saw. Young and old. Male and female. Several generations. Dancing together. Smiling together.
It hit me all at once.
Our culture…my generation…has missed something. We have lost the ability, the opportunity, for several generations to enjoy activities together. To watch a teen-aged grandson dance with his grandmother was both amazing and, well, simply inspiring. To see my wife dance with one of our sons was a blessing and a joy.
I also noticed how male and female of different ages could enjoy spending time together and get to know one another in a healthy, fun environment. This is so rare today. Our culture has sexualized virtually everything. Guys and girls don't even know how to relate to one another, how to spend time with one another, without the temptation of sex being forced into the picture.
The generations have been separated. Friendships have been isolated. Sex has been elevated. Our culture has degenerated. And we are all feeling the effects.
Okay, I admit, that is a lot to take from a Scottish dancing lesson. So, lest I digress again, let me just sum this up in a single thought:
The Scots sure know how to celebrate at a wedding…and how to build a culture that makes a wedding a true celebration.
So I will dance a jig for the Scots.
But I still won't wear that kilt.
🙂