SunApr262009
Scripture: LUKE 24:36B-48
There are all kinds of words and images that Jesus either used, or that we can imagine Jesus using, to tell us what he expected of us: servants, ministers, friends, lovers, caregivers. I’m sure you can add your own. So it’s a little odd, as we come to the last verses of Luke’s gospel, to hear the word Jesus uses in today’s reading. The very last thing the risen Christ charges them to be is: witnesses (24:48). It’s a little anticlimactic, a strange culminating metaphor to use for Christians. It has a mostly negative connotation, and it seems so passive. Think of the negativity: witnesses are usually people who have seen a car accident, or a theft on the street. “As God is my witness,” we might say if we’re trying to prove that we haven’t done the thing we’re accused of. “I witnessed the whole bloody mess,” we might report, and that’s a way of saying that we’ve happened upon something pretty unpleasant. Witnesses see bad things.
And witnesses, too, seem far too passive to be what Jesus wants us to be. Don’t witnesses just stand around and watch? Aren’t they sort of off the hook, freed of responsibility? Why in the world would Jesus want us to just stand around and watch him?
There must be something more to that image. And as we probe a little deeper, we begin to get a sense of what Jesus might have been thinking. The thing about witnesses is that they have at least been party to something noteworthy. And at least occasionally, that something is positive. We might say we witnessed a glorious sunset. Or “I was in the nursing home the other day, and I witnessed the most touching display of love between two of the residents.” When you’re a witness, you’ve seen something that makes you take notice. A witness is one who sees something important.
Witnesses are more than just people who see, though. Witnesses see something that begs to be talked about. When you see the sunset or that love in the nursing home, you have to say something about it. You feel compelled to convey to others what you’ve seen. In a courtroom, a witness is more than just someone who has seen something. A witness in a trial testifies to what they’ve seen. A courtroom witness says, “Yes, I saw that man rob the store.” To witness is to see. But it’s also to talk about what’s been seen. And when you talk about something good that you’ve seen—like a great book or movie—you’re implicitly inviting others to share the fun you’ve had.
Let me give you an example. Just after Easter, Mary and I took a short trip to Holmes County, in Amish country. While we were there, we stayed in a bed and breakfast off the beaten track in Millersburg. When we arrived at the inn, the proprietor greeted us and immediately introduced herself: “I’m Loretta.” She showed us several rooms, all of which were comfortable and cozy. We chose one with a canopied bed, a sitting area, a spa tub, and a balcony overlooking a sheep farm, on which I sat and read in the morning. For breakfast, she served homemade sausage, a baked egg dish, and the most succulent sweet rolls I think I’ve ever had. As we ate, Loretta told us about places we might like to visit while we were in the area. And before we ate, Loretta said grace—not something that happens at your average Red Roof Inn! And as we departed, she gave us a small jar of strawberry jam. It was utterly charming. And all of this for less money than the chain motel room we recently stayed in on a busy commercial strip in Terre Haute, IN.
For me it couldn’t have been better. And while for some of you the style might not be just right, for others, I bet you’re thinking, “When can we go there?” I saw and experienced something special there, and just in that act of seeing I was a witness. But because the place was so special, I have a hard time not talking about it—which I’m sure will please Loretta no end.
This, in a sense, is what followers of Jesus are to be about. We’re to see the wonders of the God we know in Jesus Christ. And we’re to let others know about it. We have seen something special—a God who loves us just as we are—and so we tell others, who also need to know the God who loves them without condition.
You may know that the main reason people start going to a particular church is that someone told them about it and invited them to come. It’s not primarily because of advertising or location or denominational affiliation. People first come to a church—85% by some estimates—because someone they know said, “This is what excites me about my church, and I’d love to have you join us this Sunday. Can I pick you up, or can I meet you there so we can sit together?”
So what would you say to a neighbor or friend who might be open to coming to Federated? In the same way you’d tell them about a B & B, or a movie you loved, what would your witness be? What I’d want to tell them is this: what we’re about here at Federated is the heart of the good news of God. It’s pretty simple: we’re about worshiping and learning and having fun and serving. We’re about passing on the grace of God.
Federated witnesses know this: there is nothing more important than the holy love that flows down upon us and wraps us in warm arms and reassures us. In Luke’s story, after Jesus dies, the disciples get together, to mope and to figure out what to do next. If the authorities can kill Jesus, couldn’t a similar fate await them? They’re depressed and worried, when, of all things, suddenly the risen Christ is standing right there in the room with them. And the very first words this Jesus speaks to them are: “Peace be with you” (24:36). Like those frantic disciples, that’s the word we all long to hear. And it is, in fact, the word that comes. Things are tense and taut at work? Hear those words of the risen Christ: “Peace be with you.” Home life frayed? “Peace be with you.” Grief or worry holding you in a vice grip? “Peace be with you.” Health fading away, old age creeping up, death staring you in the face? “Peace be with you.” Into every struggle and difficulty come those incredibly healing words: “Peace be with you.” Take them in. You’re a witness. You’ve seen. You’ve known. So rejoice. And share the news.
Maybe the simplest way of thinking about life at Federated is that we’re about both receiving and conveying that peace. Like all organizations, we’re to focus on what’s central. And what’s central is that: God’s peace is at the heart of all we do and are. A God who will not be defeated by death will certainly not be defeated by our worries and cares, deep as they may be. What I see here at Federated is that into all our worries and traumas and insecurities and disagreements, God speaks a deep peace that transcends those differences and supersedes those worries. This is what to tell your friends and neighbors. God’s peace is rich and full here.
There’s one more dimension of being a witness that we haven’t touched on yet. Witnesses, as we say, are those who have seen something special. And they are willing, even eager, to talk about the wonders of what they have seen. There’s one more thing, though. When Jesus says “You are witnesses,” he’s using a Greek word from which we get our word “martyr.” When we speak of a martyr, we mean that the person has died. That’s not necessarily what Jesus meant, though. He certainly wasn’t expecting every one of his followers to die because of their faith. For Jesus, if you were to be a witness, or martyr, you yourself were to serve as proof, as testimony—in this life. You not only see something wonderful, in other words, you not only talk about it and share it with others. But you yourself become a sign of the wonders you have seen. When Martin Luther King, Jr. or Archbishop Oscar Romero died for what they believed, they became living examples of the very grace of which they so often spoke. Their lives were their witness.
That’s what Jesus is asking of us. We don’t have to die to be that sort of witness. It’s what we do when we’re alive that testifies to the power and grace of God. We witness when we live out that peace in our lives. That’s what it is to be a follower of Jesus.
That third form of witnessing—you see God’s peace, you talk about it with others, and finally you embody it in your life—is essentially about developing a sense of your own ministry. You witness to the presence of Jesus, this week of Earth Day, for example, when you plant a tree or tend to your garden or read by natural light whenever you can. You witness to the presence of Jesus when you give your time to someone whose need is great. You witness to the presence of Jesus when you take on a cause bigger than yourself.
Let me give you some examples of this sort of witnessing. When Mary and I went to Holmes County last week, our innkeeper Loretta sent us to an Amish household in which basket-making was their work. We wanted to buy a basket for Mary’s mother’s birthday. When we arrived, a girl named Anna greeted us with the warmest smile imaginable. We wanted to see several baskets that weren’t visible, so she went somewhere else in the house to bring various baskets back. Several times she went to find what we were looking for, never with the slightest resentment, always with the greatest warmth. After a while, I spotted some boxes in a corner and noticed that there were jars of molasses and jellies and jams. I asked if they made honey, and, with a smile, Anna went to find some for me. She didn’t know me and would probably never see me again. And she kept having to go search for new items. But she did it with the deepest sort of radiance. Later that day, I watched part of a DVD that happened to be showing in a local store, and at one point the narrator mentioned an Amish saying. “Joy,” they say, stands for “Jesus first. Others second. And yourself last. JOY.” Real joy comes from living by that standard. And Anna did. She was witnessing to Jesus in everything she did.
Peter Marty is a Lutheran minister who says that some twenty five years ago, when his mother died, he was in Cameroon, in West Africa. What he remembers with extraordinary vividness is that when the villagers heard of his mother’s death, they came to his hut and simply sat with him. For hours they sat there without saying a single word, acknowledging and supporting him in his grief. We who tend to cover our silences with a torrent of words might well learn from those Cameroonians. They taught Marty something about what it is to die well, and were certainly, to him, bearing witness to the presence of Jesus.
When I think about you, I am so often touched by the myriad ways you witness to the presence of Jesus through your words and actions. So many of you have been to Sparrow Village to care for children with AIDS. A whole new group of people have prepared themselves to be Stephen Ministers. Next Sunday, in our Mission Market, people will sell their own work to benefit others. One of our members, featured on the front page of the Plain Dealer several weeks ago, organizes lawn care specialists to care for Arlington National Cemetery when they have their convention in Washington in the summer. Through Federated’s Angel Foods and Angel Rides and Angel Visits, people receive a meal or a visit or a trip to a doctor—a holy love when they need it most. Several Federated members meet here every week, in that Conference Room, seeking to give support and encouragement to people looking for work. And so many of you will give your time and energy when our IHN guests arrive at the FLC next Sunday. These are witnesses to the presence of Christ. They are testimony to a holy peace. They bring Christ to life right here in our midst.
I could go on and on—that list is by no means complete. The point, as Martin Luther pointed out during the Protestant Reformation some 500 years ago, is that each of us is a priest. It’s not just the ordained clergy who are priests. Each of you is a priest, as well. A priest transmits the presence and peace of God to someone else. That’s it. And we all have the capacity to do that. The smile, the visit, the kindness, the steady service, the work for justice in an unjust world: all of this is the work of priests. You’re a priest. I’m a priest. We’re all priests. When we’ve got it right, we serve with JOY: Jesus first, others second, ourselves (yourself) last. And by doing so, we are witnesses. We convey the peace of God to each other. And we remake the world.
Would you please stand. I’m going to say, “Peace be with you.” And would you respond, “And also with you.” And then would you please turn and wish the same to your neighbors in the pews. “Peace be with you.” (“And also with you.”) Would you please greet each other with peace.
We are witnesses, you and I, of the peace of Christ. Thanks be to God.