I’ve had good intentions to read Marriage Is Like Dancing, by Richard C. Eyer (CPH, 2007), from when it was first published, but it took me almost fifteen years to do so. The title is evocative and, even for those who don’t dance, it easily calls to mind some powerful images of living life together as husband and wife. Dancing of one kind or another, encompassing a wide variety of forms, is present (often prominent) around the world and throughout history. Little children typically dance spontaneously, with great joy and delight, either “like no one is watching,” or else to entertain their parents. So it’s not surprising that the analogy is often used for life itself, in general, and for various arenas of life from politics to sports. In the context of holy marriage, it calls to mind the bump and grind of daily life, the navigating of the madding crowd together, and a complementary partnership in the joys and sorrows of this world.

As the author writes, "This is not a book on how to fix a bad marriage, but how to support a good marriage." I believe it serves that purpose well. Aside from its solid content, thoroughly rooted in Christian faith and love and consistently drawing upon the wisdom of Holy Scripture, the author's comparison of marriage and dancing is compelling and well-developed. Richard Eyer has done a fine job in using the analogy to describe and illuminate the roles of husband and wife in holy marriage, thankfully without overdoing it or forcing the comparisons beyond what they can bear. In some chapters the connections are numerous and clear, in others more subtle and slight. The end result is an engaging and interesting book, well written and easy to read, and really an excellent and salutary discussion of holy marriage from a forthright Christian perspective.

For all that, it’s probably just as well that I didn’t manage to read the book until recently; not only because I've grown and matured in my own marriage and my understanding of marriage in the meantime, but especially because I've had several of my children in ballet over this past decade, and that has given me a much greater appreciation for dance than I ever had before. Eyer references ballroom dancing, not ballet, but many of his analogies readily translate from the one to the other. He focuses especially on the different roles of the man and the woman in ballroom dancing, the way their connection is “framed" by the posture and position of their bodies in relation to each other, and the way the man leads and the woman follows. For those who actually engage in ballroom dancing (unlike myself), the various particulars will resonate all the more clearly and poignantly. But for myself, as a father of ballet dancers, it is similarly the respective roles and interactions of the men and women in partnering that have been of special significance to me. The fact that classical ballet is built upon an established repertoire of dances, positions, movements, and traditional roles is frankly refreshing in contrast to the rampant confusion of this present day and age.

Our daughter Oly’Anna began learning ballet at age 11, later than most of the other students. Through a combination of natural skill, lots of dedication, and disciplined effort, she progressed quickly and soon caught up to her peers. It was a thrilling new experience for me to watch my “little girl” up there on stage, engaged in such an impressive athletic art. Some of her leaps and turns truly took my breath away, and the overall beauty of her dancing filled me with pride and joy as her Dad. But it was when she began partnering in her final years before graduating (before she moved on to the even more beautiful work and graceful art of marriage and family) that I discovered what I still regard as the pinnacle, heart, and center of ballet. To see young men hold and lift my daughter, spin her, catch her, and support her in a variety of ways — all within an intricate and challenging choreography, often with other dancers filling the stage with movement — that was something entirely new to me, profound in ways I had not anticipated. It approximated, in its own way, the experience I have had in giving three of my daughters in holy marriage. In making that comparison, I am not suggesting there was any “romantic” involvement between Oly’Anna and her dance partners; for that was never the case. But the coordination and cooperation required of dance partners, the mutual trust and respect, and the rapport that makes the difference between mere technique and genuine beauty, these are things not to be taken for granted, which can’t be faked or shortcutted, not really. Nor was it ever a small thing, in my heart and mind, to entrust my daughter to her dance partners; and my wife and I were always deeply grateful that those young men were courteous, respectful, and honorable in their dancing with her. Within that context, they treated her in the way that our sons-in-law treat our married daughters within the larger and enduring context of marriage and family (and for that we are all the more thankful).

Though I never would have guessed it ten years ago, or even seven years ago, our son Frederick ended up following his older sister into the world of classical ballet; and it has truly been a Godsend for him. He really needed an outlet for both his energy and his emotions, and that is what dancing has been for him from the start. Turns out he has, not only plenty of natural aptitude, but also a joyful enthusiasm for the athletic art of ballet; and he’s been making the most of it for these past six years. So now I have the privilege of watching my son serve as a dance partner for various young ladies. He holds them, lifts them, twirls them, moves in sync with them, and supports them in a variety of ways. And with all of that, he is learning, not only how to dance, but how to be a gentleman, how to care for these young women with courtesy and respect, how to support them without upstaging them, and how to lead them with grace.

Ballet is teaching and training Frederick to relate to women with reverent self-discipline, to use his strengths as a man to serve the young ladies he partners with, to move and work in harmony with them, and to conduct himself with integrity. He is learning to know them as individual human beings, and not to objectify them, but to be objective and deliberate in his interactions with them, thankfully without all the drama that so often confuses the relationships of young men and women, especially in the difficult teen years. The discipline of classical ballet, its established positions, its choreographed movements, and its traditional roles and structures provide a safe and stable context within which to learn how men and women differ in so many ways, and yet are able to coordinate and work together in complementary pursuits. Such things will serve my son well in the future, not only as he gets married and has a wife and family of his own to care for, but in all of his relationships. Already I delight in the friendships he has gained with his dance partners, contributing in turn to their graceful rapport in dancing together.

In considering such things, I can’t help but think of those other Dads (and Moms) who trust my son to dance with their daughters. And I am reminded of how my wife and I have felt in seeing other Dads (and Moms) entrust their daughters to our sons in holy marriage. Again, my point is not to “romanticize” the dancing. In fact, we’ve been clear with Frederick that it would not be appropriate for him to develop such relationships with any of his dance partners at this point in his life, especially because he needs to be available to partner with many of the girls in his ballet studio, and favoritism would not be fair. But the discipline of dancing is not only a beautiful analogy for marriage; it can also serve as a wonderful training ground for the respective roles and responsibilities of husbands and wives within the vocation of holy matrimony. This is why Richard Eyer’s lovely little book, Marriage Is Like Dancing, is really so compelling.

Whether or not a husband and wife dance together in the ballroom or ballet, they are given to share the “dance” of life itself together in the fellowship and partnership of holy matrimony. And while there is always the learning and growing that come by way of trial and error over time, there is also a discipline of love that is governed, not by fickle and fleeting emotions, but by the Word and Spirit of the Lord and the objective standards of duty and responsibility. There are complementary roles to be served, as established and exemplified by Christ Jesus and His Bride, the Holy Christian Church. And there are customs and traditions inherited from our fathers and mothers who have gone before us, which need not be the same in every time and place across all generations, but which do provide a starting point, a sound and stable repertoire of real wisdom and experience. We do well to learn and practice those classical “dance moves” before we start trying to improvise and make it up as we go along, lest we end up “just jumping around to the music” (as Frederick once described a homeschool prom he enjoyed with his friends), instead of arriving at the beauty and grace of a carefully-choreographed and well-rehearsed ballet.

Dancing well — and, all the more so, dancing well together with a partner — takes time and practice, dedication, discipline, and effort. It also requires mutual courtesy, respect, and trust. There are real risks involved in trusting another person with your heart, mind, body, and self; but there is also much to be gained, the chance to fly and soar together. When Frederick had the privilege of partnering in a lead role for the first time last year, his partner’s Dad jokingly summarized his assessment of their dancing with the comment, “He didn’t drop her!” In truth, they gave a magnificent performance; but that observation wasn’t out of place. If it’s not the “bottom line,” it is the starting point, in any case, that love does no harm to the neighbor. In holy marriage, as also in parenting, and really in all of our vocations and stations in life, we begin with a solid commitment to guard, protect, serve, and care for those who are entrusted to us. A husband and wife are given to do so for each other, but each in his or her own way. And it probably needs to be stated that it requires as much grace to trust, receive, and follow, to be lifted, held, and carried, as it does to serve, give, and lead, to lift, hold, and carry. The roles are not the same, nor are they interchangeable, but it is in the interplay of the leading and following that grace and beauty are clearly found. Where that foundation is in place, the sky is the limit. And to that end, I hope and pray that Frederick will be as faithful and steadfast in lifting up, supporting, and not dropping his future wife as he is in dancing with his partners in ballet.

Well, whether we dance or not, and whether we are married or celibate in this body and life, there is yet the “Dance” of the Liturgy for every Christian (not to be confused with so-called “liturgical dancing,” which is not what I’m writing about and I don’t recommend). As holy marriage is a living icon of Christ Jesus and His Bride, the Church, so is the relationship of a pastor and congregation analogous to that of a husband and wife in marriage. That is implicit in St. Paul’s description and discussion of the holy Office in his Epistles to St. Timothy and St. Titus, and so also in the Wedding at Cana and in the final chapters of the Apocalypse. And it is evident in the fact that the pastor is given to administer “the washing of the water with the Word,” for which the Lord gave Himself into death for His Bride, and by which He adorns her with His own beauty and righteousness; so, too, in the pastor’s celebration of the Marriage Feast of the Lamb in the Sacrament of the Altar. The giving of these Gifts in the Name and stead of Christ Jesus, together with the preaching and ongoing catechesis which necessarily encompass the administration of these Gifts, is fundamental to and constitutive of the Divine Liturgy of the Gospel. And the Church in turn is privileged to hear the Word of Christ and to receive the Gifts He freely gives in this way, to do so in holy faith and with thanksgiving, to confess and pray in His Name, and to love and serve to the praise of His glorious grace. This is the “Dance” of which I write, the beautiful order that God has established for the giving and receiving of His Gifts in the Divine Liturgy of the Gospel — the reading and preaching of the Holy Scriptures, centered in the narrative of Christ Jesus; the ordering of the Holy Ministry; the gentle rhythm of speaking and hearing, leading and following; then, also, the Church’s traditional choreography of the ceremonies and her beautiful adornment of the entire Liturgy with art and music.

Where ballet is able to bring fairy tales to life, this Liturgy of the Gospel brings the real Life of God from heaven down to earth in the Word and Flesh of Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son. And where ballroom dancing celebrates the couple in the midst of the crowd, the Liturgy embodies and enlivens the Church as the Bride of Christ and celebrates that Holy Communion with Him in holy faith and holy love. The people of God are drawn into that Divine Dance of the Liturgy by His Word and Spirit; and by His grace each of them participates according to his or her own proper calling and station in life. To begin with, and to all eternity, we are all given to receive Life and Salvation with God in the good Gifts of Christ Jesus. But to that very end, we pastors are called and ordained to preach and teach His Word, to administer His Gifts, to absolve His children with His Gospel, and to lift up, serve and support, guard and protect His people, as surely as we also are lifted up, served and supported, guarded and protected by His grace and mercy.

As one of my fathers in Christ once put it, so succinctly and so well, the Church is the Bride of Christ, and she ought to be treated like a Lady. For those of us entrusted with the stewardship of the Mysteries of God, the classical order and form, the decorum and etiquette of the Liturgy enable us to “dance” with that Man’s Wife appropriately, not simply as gentlemen, but as the Groom’s own men, escorting that dear Lady for a little while in His Way of Life, and so caring for her with all the courtesy, dignity, and reverence befitting the Queen of Heaven, until her Lord shall come to carry her over the threshold into His eternal Home.