I walked forward to chat with one of my fellow Zumba dancers last week and when our instructor started the music, I hurried back to my “regular” spot.
Except, there was a cute young thing already in it, bright and smiling in snazzy spandex.
I cleared my throat and looked around for backup. My friend Diane laughed and I realized how silly I’d sound demanding that patch of floor space. So, I took the front spot under the speaker.
But I seethed.
During the first break between songs I stretched up my arms to prove I could nearly hit the speaker while dancing.
No one noticed.
But me.
The next half hour flew by as I grumbled and growled to the music, ducking my head just in case, and flourished my arms.
I got a great work out for my body, but my spirit–that was another story.
It argued and debated until I finally realized how absurd I was behaving. I decided to forget about “my spot,” and was in a terrific mood by the time the hour zumbaed to an end.
It reminded me of college where I always sat in the second row, two seats in, on the right side. I wasn’t in the front row where the prof would trip over my feet. I was in the second row where I could meet their eyes and possibly get a word in edgewise.
Since I was in relatively small English classes, I sat with the same group of guys in class after class.
They obviously had real estate issues, too.
The same thing happens in churches. Our pastor says he can tell who is missing if their spot is empty or contains someone else.
My husband and I like to jumble it up, but sitting on the left side feels odd. We prefer right aisle seats five rows back, but we’re friendly about it.
(Note: my zumba spot is second row on the left near the windows).
Jesus was familiar with angst over seating arrangements. When the sons of Zebedee approached him in Mark 10 about getting the best seats in heaven–on his right and left–Jesus had an answer.
“You do not know what you ask. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?”
39 They said to Him, “We are able.”
So Jesus said to them, “You will indeed drink the cup that I drink, and with the baptism I am baptized with you will be baptized; 40 but to sit on My right hand and on My left is not Mine to give, but it is for those for whom it is prepared.”
41 And when the ten heard it, they began to be greatly displeased with James and John.
It amuses me the other apostles were irritated with the Zebedee boys, though this was no laughing matter. They wanted to get ahead and be distinguished as the most important. By so doing, they obviously forgot one of Jesus’ other lessons from a few verses further on:
If you want to be great, you must be the servant of all the others. 44 And if you want to be first, you must be everyone’s slave. 45 The Son of Man did not come to be a slave master, but a slave who will give his life to rescue many people.
I don’t know that servanthood is involved in a Zumba class, though certainly I needed to welcome our pert visitor. My pride probably ordered my seat in my English classes because I wanted the professors to recognize me. In church, I’m a little more free–I’m looking for newcomers and I don’t care if the pastor sees me or not.
The point, however, is not where I sit, but the attitude of my heart. Like the Zebedees, I need to examine it before I ask for preferential treatment. I need to make sure I’m right before God wherever I sit. And I need to take advantage of the places where He sends me.
I got my Zumba spot back the next day. I haven’t seen that young woman again. I hope it wasn’t me . . .
Those UCLA English major guys were very different from me. I never would have spoken to them if we hadn’t become friendly based on where we preferred to sit.
I’ve had marvelous encounters no matter which pew I occupied in churches.
I have no idea where the Zebedees are sitting right now.
But I do know my place is in the center of God’s will for my life–wherever it takes me– and to display Jesus’ attitude of servanthood no matter where I end up.
Where’s your place in God’s kingdom? Click to Tweet
Where do you guard your territory? Click to Tweet
And why? 🙂
Thoughts? Reactions? Lurker?