Salsa dancing for Jesus?

Some humorous reflections from a joyful part of our lives

Bruce and Nancy on the dance floor. Really.

Let them praise his name with dancing. —Psalm 149:3

One thing I’ve learned from 16 months of Substack writing is that my lighthearted personal stories often become the most popular posts. So today, let’s get away from global strife and talk about the spiritual value of salsa dancing.

Nancy and I entered the salsa dance world 18 years ago. Knowing that she liked the Latin music played at her fitness classes, I surprised her one night by taking her to a dance lesson. We liked it enough to continue, and within about a year we were reasonably competent.

When we started, we didn’t know what to expect. I certainly didn’t want to become morally compromised in an environment of skimpy outfits and sensuality. I had nothing to worry about. Maybe some salsa night clubs function as pickup joints, but the venues where we danced were all wholesome social settings. As we built personal relationships, always seeking to let our light shine for God, we discovered other Christians among the participants. One of our guest instructors, known as Edie the Salsa Freak, even produced a series of “Christianity and Salsa” posts on her website, albeit perhaps with more enthusiasm than solid exegesis.

I had a harder learning curve than Nancy. Most salsa dancing is done in pairs, with the man leading. The woman needs good balance, footwork, and familiarity with the various moves so that she can respond to the man’s direction, but he initiates the actions. Learning to lead complex moves while remaining in time with the music takes skill and concentration. Even today, I sometimes revert to a basic back-and-forth step for eight beats while I figure out what to do next.

We had no ambition to become competitive dancers, but it is exhilarating when two human beings, through a shared, subtle vocabulary of preparatory signals, smoothly execute an array of intricate moves in coordination without advance choreography, verbal instructions, or tripping over each other.

Every time we dance, we relive an object lesson on how a marriage should work. Whether you’re egalitarian or complementarian, you know that a relationship can’t survive when two people battle for authority over decisions. In salsa dancing, the man must move his partner gently and with clear guidance, so as to highlight the woman’s grace and value. Indeed, most of the flashy spins and glamorous “shines” are done by the lady. But it’s mutually understood that the man directs the program.

Occasionally, through either confusion or playful defiance, Nancy moves in a direction contrary to my lead. That never works out well. In such instances, Nancy usually has to endure a “Why did you do that?” stare from me, even though my unclear guidance may have caused the problem. (I am more gracious with less accomplished partners, always telling the lady before we start, “If something goes wrong, it’s my fault.”)

Along with providing good exercise, salsa dancing rewards diligent training and builds self-confidence. In our first months, I was too shy to dance with anyone other than my wife, while Nancy, embarrassed about being watched, would not go out on the dance floor until it was crowded. Eight years later, when the disc jockey at our son’s wedding reception played a merengue (the national dance of the Dominican Republic), Nancy and I raced to locate each other, began turning and moving our hips in rhythm, and kept going even when we noticed that everyone else had stopped to watch us.

Like other forms of partner dancing, salsa teaches the important skill of socially acceptable touch between genders, enabling people to feel comfortable expressing their feelings through appropriate physical contact within well-defined boundaries.

Our church promotes “Connect Groups” that bring people together and build relationships around shared interests. This year, we launched the church’s first-ever salsa dancing group. We turned our living area into a dance floor and trained 14 beginning “salseros.” I think we contributed new joy to several couples, just as salsa dancing rejuvenated our marriage 18 years ago. God, the author of all the arts, bestows great blessings on those who honor him by making beauty, whether as professional performers or (like us) vivacious though sometimes clumsy amateurs.