Skip to main content

I am a witness

Image result for paying attention to small things

When I was in Bible school, one of the required courses was Personal Evangelism. After weeks spent learning about the topic, we all clambered aboard a bus and travelled to a nearby city. Once there, we were split into teams of two and sent out on the cold streets to hand out tracts and talk to strangers about Jesus. It was awkward. I would rather poke myself with a fork than engage in forced, artificial encounters. So I told my partner that I was happy to do some silent praying in the background while he engaged people in conversation. Actually, "happy" is probably the wrong word there. More like distressed, anxious, even embarrassed. I felt sorry for the people we tried to engage and was very relieved when it was time to get back on the bus.

Looking back, I realize that part of the problem with the evangelism course was that it focused almost exclusively on the act of witnessing and not on what it means to be a witness. In the Greek New Testament, the word martus (witness) refers to a person. Like its English counterpart, it can mean a few different things. There is the historical sense which refers to someone who witnesses an event. There is the legal sense which refers to one who gives testimony of their experience. And there is the ethical sense which refers to someone who, by example, proves the genuineness of something. A sort of living proof, one might say.

One of my friends, Suhail Stephen, gave an excellent talk on the topic of witness at a meeting of the Society of Vineyard Scholars earlier this year. Go and read his whole presentation; it is wisdom and delight (see link below). His experience with "witnessing" echoes mine in many ways. He says: "If ‘witness’ was discussed in my early Christian circles, the spiritual grammar emphasized the verb instead of the noun – witness was construed as an obligatory activity, as opposed to an experiential identity. It was something to do, not someone I was. Consequently, the questions became ‘What should I say?’ and ‘How do I say it?’ instead of ‘Who have I experienced?’ The attendant emotions as a result were usually shame, fear of disobedience, and a vague performance anxiety. Desire, joyful hope, and love do not thrive in these conditions, which inevitably shriveled me from being a witness into being a proselytizer. That’s what happens when you undervalue or ignore experience.” [1]

Like Suhail, I have felt that shame, that performance anxiety, that sense that I was not doing enough to tell the world about Jesus. It was exacerbated by preachers and teachers frequently quoting Matthew 28:18: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." No one was exempt from this monumental task, we were told, so get on with it. For me, this kind of religious arm-twisting always brought on guilt and heaviness, never enthusiasm. I suppose that is one of the reasons why I never went around telling strangers about Jesus, but a large part of my reluctance to proselytize people was that deep down inside, I was uncomfortable with spouting Bible verses and principles that I learned in an evangelism course. I knew they would sound hollow. How could I expect anyone to believe or trust something that had not been grown in the dirt of lived experience, that was not covered in blood, sweat, and tears, that had not weathered the drought of suffering?

These days, I have no trouble saying that I am a witness. Not because I can recite the 4 spiritual laws (I can't) or lead someone through the Romans road (can't do that either), not because I preach on a street corner or find a way to insert a Bible verse into every conversation. I am a witness because I pay attention, because I see things and hear things and experience things. Imagine being in a bank when a robbery takes place and never noticing any details because we are too preoccupied with our bank balance or a message on our phone or the nice car out front or (insert your own distraction here). We would make a terrible witness. Mindfulness is not just a trendy practice touted by self-help gurus; it is the way in which we intentionally join in the work, play, and rest of the Spirit of God. Spiritual disciplines (such as the examen or spiritual direction) help us to listen, to reflect, to contemplate. They train us in being witnesses.

I am a witness to the clouds in the sky which form the most amazing three-dimensional, moving pictures outside my window all day. I am a witness to the slow and steady growth of the transplanted trees in the park near my home. I am a witness to the gradual process by which young geese learn how to fly in formation. I am a witness to deep-seated fears which can paralyze a soul and the searing pain of losing a loved one. I am a witness to the sweet presence of Jesus which inexplicably appears every time I utter words of confession. I am a witness to the ability of the Spirit wind to blow open things which have been tightly closed for years. I am a witness to friendships which remain faithful despite astronomical odds and a witness to friendships which fall apart at the slightest strain. I am a witness to the freedom which flourishes when a person says Yes over and over again. I am a witness to failure and to success and to the gift of mercy that each one can be. I am a witness to the beauty and fullness of life. I am a witness to brokenness and cruelty which seem too great to bear. I am a witness to things I cannot explain or understand, especially the way in which the divine is present in the mundane.

I am a witness.

“We announce to you what existed from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have seen and our hands handled, about the word of life. The life was revealed, and we have seen, and we testify and announce to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us. What we have seen and heard, we also announce it to you so that you can have fellowship with us. Our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ.” (1 John 1:1-3, CEB)


-------------------
[1] Suhail Stephen, "Witness: From Thin to Thick." May 22, 2019. writingisprayer.com. https://writingisprayer.com/2019/05/22/witness-from-thin-to-thick/

Image from https://assessments24x7.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/little-things1.jpg

Comments

Charmaine Kelder said…
Almost 50 years ago in 1971, my young husband and I went to do our first (and only) international outreach with YWAM, at the time called a Summer of Service. The training we received in Arizona before crossing into Mexico for our outreach had us going door to door with the few words some of us had just learned in Spanish. I will never forget the first time an Hispanic looking person answered our door knock and I said carefully, 'Yo quiero hablar con usted acerca de Dios' The person responded to me, 'Si...' I had nothing else that I could say in Spanish. And so we left that door in confusion and embarrassment. Later on the same trip, we went to Cuba and a few of us ended up in a Catholic church where a youth group was holding a dance. As I watched the young Cubans my fairly narrow and rigid evangelical understanding of what it meant to be a Christian was severely challenged. The Holy Spirit graciously had a learning opportunity for me. A young Cuban, perhaps noticing our/my disapproval, came over to engage with us. I can't remember what I asked - perhaps something about sponsoring a dance in their church. He said words I have never forgotten: 'We have decided to keep the doors to the kingdom of God open.' I learned much in that encounter about being a witness.

Popular posts from this blog

comedic timing

Comic by Joel Micah Harris at xkcd.com One of my favourite jokes goes like this: Knock, knock. Who's there? Interrupting cow Interrupting cow w--- Moooooooo!! Timing is important in both drama and comedy. A well-paced story draws the audience in and helps it invest in the characters, while a tale too hastily told or too long drawn out will fail to engage anyone. Surprise - something which interrupts the expected - is a creative use of timing and integral to any good story. If someone is reading a novel and everything unfolds in a predictable manner, they will probably wonder why they bothered reading the book. And so it is in life. Having life be predictable all of the time is not as calming as it sounds. We love surprises, especially good surprises like birthday parties, gifts, marriage proposals, and finding something that we thought was lost. Surprises are an important part of humour. A good joke is funny because it goes to a place you didn't expect it to go. Sim

Names of God

The Hebrew word "YHWH" (read from right to left) This past Sunday I gave a talk on the Names of God, the beginning of a series on this topic. This first talk was to be a gentle introduction so I thought it wouldn't take too many hours of preparation. Well, I quickly discovered that the research is almost bottomless; every time I thought I had a somewhat definitive list of names, I found another source which added a few more or gave a different twist on some of the names I had already come across. After several hours I was getting overwhelmed by the sheer amount of data (and that was only looking at the Hebrew Bible). I wondered how I could present this to people in an orderly and accessible fashion and within a reasonable time frame. Not everyone is up for a 3-hour lecture crammed full of detail on a Sunday morning. So I took a break and spent a bit of time meditating on this problem and asking the Spirit for guidance. And then I thought that being overwhelmed by Go

soul refrigerator

I went grocery shopping yesterday and came home with three bags of food. After I unpacked them all, this is what my fridge looked like: really empty. How does that happen? How can I feel so full and ready for any food emergency one moment, and after one quick glance, realise that I have nothing, really? Today is one of those days in my soul as well. I woke up with gratitude and fullness in my heart, ready to take on this day and all the wonderful opportunities that it presented. Then I caught a brief glance of some emptiness in my life and bam - my buoyancy was compromised. For the past few hours I have been treading water, trying to keep my head in a positive space, bobbing in and out of disappointment, and catching myself whining with pathetic indignity at the cement blocks of other people's stupidity that are tangled around my ankles. When I am staring at the empty refrigerator of my soul, these are my thoughts. Where do I go from here? Perhaps I should slam that refrigerator