I realize I’m taking a risk with the demographic, but I want to tell you about The Ezra Collective, who are a contemporary British music group. They were the first Jazz act to be awarded the Mercury Music Prize in 2023. They’ve gone on to get Group of the Year at the Brit Awards in 2025 and, most recently, the Best Jazz Act in the 2026 Mobo Awards.
Their 2024 album, called ‘Dance, no one’s watching’, includes the song ‘God gave me feet for dancing.’ It’s joyful. Rhythmic. If the technology smiles on me, then I’ll play some of it now…
It’s something you might hear and smile at without perhaps thinking too much more about it. But if you stay with it, if you let it linger, if you think about those words, it begins to open out. Because it isn’t really about dancing. It’s about gift. It’s about purpose. It’s about what a life is for.
“God gave me feet for dancing. And that’s exactly what I’ll do.” It’s another way of saying: God has given you something – and that gift is meant to be used. Not hidden. Not held back. Not kept safe at the edges. But lived.
But it’s also quietly theological. Because it suggests something about what it means to be human – not just thinking beings, not just believing beings, but embodied, responsive, alive beings. People who are meant to move.
Paul in Athens: searching, reaching, almost dancing
In Acts 17, Paul stands in Athens, surrounded by altars, ideas, philosophies. He doesn’t begin with condemnation. He begins with recognition and a bit of buttering-up to his hosts: “I see how extremely religious you are in every way.”
He notices. He listens. He honours the searching. And then he points to an altar: ‘To an unknown god.’
And Paul says, in effect, you’re not wrong to search. You’re not wrong to reach out. But what you’re searching for is already closer than you think.
He speaks of a God who made the world; who gives life and breath to all; who is not confined to temples. And then this extraordinary line: “In him we live and move and have our being.”
Not just believe. Not just think. But live and move. It’s almost as if Paul is saying you are already in the music of God. You just don’t know it yet.
Not far from each one of us
Paul goes further: “He is not far from each one of us.” And that matters because so often we imagine God as distant. God is somewhere that we must reach for. Somewhere we must climb toward.
But Paul suggests something else: that God is already the ground beneath our feet. Already the breath in our lungs. Already the rhythm holding everything together.
And if that’s true, then perhaps those feet we’ve been given are not just for standing still. But for responding, for dancing.
“If you love me…” – the movement of love
Then we turn to John 14 and, again, we are in a moment of uncertainty. We’ve gone back to the night before his betrayal and Jesus is preparing to leave. The disciples are unsettled – and he says to them: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”
At first, that can sound heavy. Like obligation. Like pressure. But listen again. Not: “If you fear me…”. Not “If you want to prove yourself…” But: “If you love me…” Love comes first. And what follows is not rigid obedience, but a life shaped in response.
And then comes the promise: “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate… the Spirit of truth.”
So, we are not left alone. Not abandoned. Not expected to work it all out ourselves. Instead, the life of God comes to dwell within us. To guide. To move. To shape.
From belief to movement
Put those two readings together. Paul says: “In him we live and move…” Jesus says: “The Spirit will be in you.” And something begins to emerge. Faith is not just something we hold. It is something we inhabit. Faith is not just theoretical ideas and abstract concepts in the mind, but something we embody.
Which brings us back to that line: “God gave me feet for dancing.” Because dancing is not just movement. It is responsive movement. Movement shaped by music. Movement that listens. Movement that trusts something beyond itself.
What if faith is more like dancing?
Think about dancing. Sometimes you get it right. Sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you hesitate. Sometimes you move freely. But always, you are responding to something that is already there.
What if that’s what Jesus is describing? A life not of rigid control – but of attentive response to the Spirit. Not: “Get everything right.” But: “Stay in relationship. Stay with the rhythm.”
Love as the rhythm
In our Gospel, Jesus says: “They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me.” And what are those commandments? Well, in John’s Gospel, they are remarkably simple: Love one another.
So, the rhythm is love. The movement is love. The shape of the dance is love. And the Spirit is the one who keeps us in time.
The risk of standing still
There is, of course, another option. To not move. To stay still. To overthink. To hesitate. To wait until we are certain. But dancing doesn’t work like that. And neither does faith. Because if Paul is right – if in God we live and move – then to refuse to move is to resist something fundamental. Not in a dramatic way. But gradually. We stop listening. We stop responding. We settle for standing on the edge of the dance floor.
The invitation
So, perhaps the invitation in these readings is not simply to believe in God. But to become responsive to God. To notice where there is a rhythm of love. Where the Spirit is nudging. Where there is movement that I am being invited into. And then – gently, imperfectly – to step into it.
A final image
Imagine a room filled with music. Looking at who’s here, it might be ballroom, or Latino line dancing or maybe even Northern Soul, Morris dancing, disco or trance! At first, you’re unsure. You stand at the edge. You watch. But slowly, you begin to hear it. Not just with your ears – but somewhere deeper inside you.
And then, almost without realising it, you begin to move. Not perfectly. Not confidently. But truly and sincerely. And you discover the music was already there. You were already within it. You just needed to respond.
Paul tells us that God is not far from each one of us. Jesus tells us that the Spirit will be in you. And the Ezra Collective reminds us that you have been given feet for dancing. So, the question is not whether you know all the steps, but when will you begin to move?
For the Dance of the Spirit
Blessed be the God
in whom you live and move
and find your being,whose breath is nearer
than your own breathing,
whose presence hums
beneath all things.Blessed be the feet you have been given,
not only to stand
but to step, to turn,
to follow the quiet rhythm of love.Blessed be the Spirit
who comes alongside you,
not to drive or demand,
but to guide –
a steady music
you are learning to hear.And when you hesitate,
when you falter,
when you are unsure of the next step,may you trust
that the song continues,that you are already held within it,
and that even now
you are being drawn
more deeply
into the dance. Amen.
‘Feet for Dancing’ was delivered by Ian Banks at St Margaret’s, Heywood on Sunday 10th May 2026. It was based on Acts 17:22–31 & John 14:15–21.
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