Growing up we were taught how
to act right in public. You know, stand up straight, smile, stay neat and tidy,
and above all else, don’t whine or complain. Better yet, keep quiet!
With those instructions fresh
in mind we were taken to church and told where to sit in the pew. When to stand
and when to sit were the next lessons taught. And above all else, when to be
silent. Well that was easy; we were not to make a noise. I think I got the idea
that any noise might disturb God and make bad things happen!
There were all those other
people in the pews, as well. Most of them were all dressed up. The ladies even
had hats on! Although some of their dresses were flowery – lots of colors – a
lot of them were black and some dark gray. My grandmother visited from time to
time and she wore those dark, somber clothes, too.
Now the men wore suits, of
course, with dress shirts (white, there were no other colors!) and ties. Their
shoes were polished and I noticed this because my dad almost always polished
shoes on Saturday afternoons. His were always fresh and shiny for Sunday
mornings at church.
I liked the singing. I also
thought the organ was fabulous! Although the prayers were sometimes
interesting, the sermons never were! In fact, I remember sermon time as the
only time we were allowed to draw on our church bulletin. Mom shushed us but
smiled at the meaningless scribbles on the bulletin. She turned her attention
to the sermon but I could tell she wasn’t really interested in it, either.
Sometimes the sermons were
special because my grandpa was the minister giving the sermon. I didn’t
understand what he was saying, but everyone else seemed to. I do recall his
voice droning on and on. I wondered when we could leave and go home to dinner.
That gave me a reason for sitting still. I could even smell the roasted meat
and dark gravy! And the table cloth, silver and crumb tray. We three kids
always fought over who’s turn it was to wield the crumb tray and crumb knife.
That was fun duty!
Back to sermons. I remember
the focus on the Bible and its stories. I guess the minister was teaching the
congregation things he thought they should know. I heard words like sin,
forgiveness, witness, and tithe. I didn’t understand that last one but I came
to understand the others a bit over time.
The witness thing was a
struggle. Most ministers said something like living your life like a witness to
what you believe. Hmmm. Wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I knew court
rooms had witnesses and they talked under oath so it must be important. If you
witnessed, you spoke the truth and swore to it. We were taught not to swear so
I wondered about the oath business. Must be like some church thing. It you were
told to do something in church it must be OK. Same in the courtroom.
Anyway, as years passed this ‘witness’
word and ‘forgiveness’ stuck with me. In high school I didn’t pay attention to
the sermons but I sure was into the music. Later, in college, the same thing
happened but then I began listening to the sermons more closely. They weren’t
much different from lectures. Seemingly nearly an hour long, one person talked
a lot about a subject, I took notes, and tried to make sense of it all back in
the dorm. Eventually I did. Same with church. Sermons began to make more sense
and I came to listen closely to them.
After college, sermons were
much more important to the church experience. As an adult I came to know the
ministers, too. And that alone made listening to the sermons easier and more
interesting. Later in the morning we were encouraged to discuss the sermon if
we wanted to.
Again, the term ‘witness’
cropped up over and over in the sermons. Finally I got it. We were to live our
lives in accordance with our religious beliefs. Religion was to help us live
our lives more fully. Our behavior and actions were to be guided by our
religious beliefs.
We were told to love others
and to give witness to that by being kind, pleasant and helpful to others. Just
like we’d want them to treat us! Well that was neat and easy to understand. Oh,
and we were also to give money to the church so its work and missions would be
supported. I got that but not so much!
We were also supposed to live
as though our religion was real. Demonstrate your beliefs, the ministers told
us. Be honest and truthful. That is a witness action. Be charitable and loving.
Helping others and donating money to good causes was a good example of that.
But I was stumped beyond those two examples.
How was I to live a life of
witness in the church? Now after 7 decades of trial and error, I think I understand this issue better. (Slow
learner, you know!)
Here’s what I’ve come up
with. Being a witness to what you believe is mostly done outside the building
we call ‘church’. It’s a general way of seeing and acting in the world that is
positive. In the presence of others I try to do what is right, not what is
comfortable. Sometimes it means I rebuff idle gossip. Other times I share facts
I have learned that would help others understand an issue better and discuss it
better.
If a community evidences a
problem, doing something about it is a good way to give witness. If a family is
in financial trouble due to a health crisis, fire or storm damage to their
home, we gather friends and neighbors and give that family direct assistance –
clothes, food, paper products, help to clean up their home, or find temporary
accommodations.
To fight hunger we donate
food to local food pantries, or answer the invitation to work in preparing
meals for the hungry, or even spend an evening or weekend at a soup kitchen.
Helping a community
understand itself and nurture its own ability to organize and work for
improvements is another form of witness. Sometimes that is speaking up at a
city council meeting, or getting involved with youth work at the park district,
or at church, or being an active member of the PTA at the kids’ schools. Other
times that might be sharing a news note with the local paper. Or even writing
for the paper regularly. Or helping others create and sustain a local newspaper
for the good of the community.
The more I thought about it
the more I realized that witnessing is really being active within the community
and lending my hand to good works. Helping make good things happen is the theme
of that work.
How simple is that? You don’t
have to be in charge or turn over your savings account to someone else. You
just have to spend time and attention with others making good things happen. Doing
my part. Taking responsibility for a small task. Spending time with others
thinking what a group could accomplish by working together. A joint exercise of
mind and body. In time good things come from this interaction.
How conscious are we of this
simple fact of witnessing? Do we make more of it than we need too? Does this
prevent us from taking action? Or are you and I practicing and getting into the
thick of things in our towns and villages?
I’ve found it makes my life
exciting and much more meaningful just being involved. That’s reward enough. I
don’t need to be in charge. My ideas to not have to win out over others. No, I
just need to be involved and breathing the same air and passions as other
people.
It’s been a fruitful time
since I came to understand witness in this manner. Maybe my experience will
help others gain the same experience?
June 12, 2015