January 11, 2009 | 8:00 a.m.

Can I Get a Witness?

Sarah A. Johnson
Pastoral Resident, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 19
Mark 1:1–4
John 1:35–42

Christians bear witness because we cannot do otherwise. What God has done in Jesus Christ, for the world and for our lives, is such a powerful and wonderful story that Christians are compelled to talk about it.

Cynthia M. Campbell
A Multitude of Blessings

Although I grew up in the South, I have managed to escape my roots while retaining very little Southern culture. I don’t eat fried chicken or barbeque; I don’t mind the winter; and any twinge of an accent that I might have only makes appearances with a few select South Carolina friends.

But despite my apparent lack of attachment to the culture of my childhood, I have managed to gain an appreciation for gospel music. One of my favorite songs is an old gospel spiritual entitled “Lord, Can I Get a Witness?” The lyrics have an easy repetitive formula that is contagious. It goes something like this:

Can I get a witness? Can I get a witness?
Can I get a witness on what the Lord has done for you?
Can I get a witness? Can I get a witness?
Can I get a witness on what the Lord has brought you through?

It is the kind of gospel spiritual often heard on Sunday morning in churches in the Deep South, where church lasts at least two hours and the service is not over until the preacher says it’s over. It is the kind of music that stirs your soul and is always is accompanied by clapping and dancing; it is a song that simply cannot be sung standing still. The choir sings in rumbling rhythms, swaying back and forth, while from the pulpit the preacher builds her case: “Can I get a witness? Can I get a witness on what the Lord has done to you?”

The choir sings, the preacher calls, and the church fills with echoes of witness and hands raised high, acknowledging presence and sure evidence of God’s gracious works through Jesus Christ.

Appreciated from a distance for its musical and lyrical value, it is exactly the kind of song that makes us Presbyterians very nervous. It makes us nervous because we realize that it is the kind of song where, long before the third echo of “Can I get a witness,” we would probably be forced (Spirit-led or otherwise) to stand up and move around in our pews in a way that is, frankly, neither decent nor in order.

It is the kind of soul music that runs smack up against that old church joke that we Presbyterians are God’s “frozen chosen.” Sitting firmly in our pews, we would rather leave all the business of witnessing up to the Baptists or, at the very least, the evangelicals. But the truth of the matter is, whether we are comfortable with it or not, as Christians we are firmly planted in the business of telling others about the good news of Jesus Christ, of witnessing to the gospel.

Our scripture passage for this morning finds John the Baptist and the disciples right in the middle of that very activity. John’s Gospel, in its elegant and unusual language, has spent the first chapter proclaiming the coming of the incarnate Word of God, the Word who is the light and life of the world, “the light that shines in the darkness and cannot be overcome by it.” And now it is John the Baptist’s and the disciples’ turn to get down to work. They must become witnesses to the new life that has entered the world in Jesus Christ so that through his life-giving power others might come to believe.

It is John’s witness, first begun in the wilderness and then continued later as he walks along with two other disciples, that begins this process. Walking along and spotting Jesus just up ahead, John shouts out, “Look, it is the Lamb of God!” And as he does so, the two who are with him stop what they are doing and curiously begin to follow Jesus. What is even more is that the process continues: the two disciples who had begun to follow Jesus through John’s witness then add a third disciple, Simon Peter. It becomes an ongoing process in which the story continues only when another person is invited in. One witness creates another, which creates another, and so on.

It is a beautiful way to think about the gospel story, really—the idea that our lives, having experienced new life in Christ, only become complete when that life is shared with another; when having experienced the truth of the gospel, we move beyond ourselves to include someone else in that same truth. It reminds us that as a church that claims to be a light in the city, we do not exist for ourselves. We exist to continue to spread the good news that life is stronger than death, that love is stronger than hate, and that for a God who entered the world as a child in a manger, real power is servant power. As a light in the city, we only begin to fulfill our mission when the light of Christ is spread beyond the walls of our own community, inviting others in.

And yet it all seems a little more complicated when placed in our modern context. John may have had a divinely appointed vocational call to wandering in the desert telling others about Jesus and adding disciples, but our lives feel fueled with uncomfortable complications when it comes to attempting to be witnesses.

For one, we certainly are not a society lacking in talk about religion. In fact, as a culture we chatter about God incessantly. God talk can be found in almost every sphere of our culture. Politicians and televangelists, Hollywood producers, best-selling authors, and even highway billboards have something to say about God. During my last drive down the Interstate, I passed a sign that read,

Let’s meet at my house Sunday before the game.
— God

Why add another word to the already overwhelming (and perhaps overbearing) amount of conversation? Why add one more word in a culture where more and more it seems that God is in danger of becoming, as Reformed theologian Karl Barth feared, “a farce, a commodity to be bought and sold, trivialized and manipulated”?

And then there is the fear that to witness might just be a foolish or downright dangerous thing to do these days. We often don’t have to look far to see violence done to others in the name of faith. It is the kind of witness infused with the religious rhetoric that coerces and instills fear.

For the past week and a half, we have watched with heartbreaking agony the increase in violence in Gaza and the West Bank. While the violence has increased, the conflict itself is a longstanding one, born of hates and fears on both sides but also woven out of the threads of religion.

Appeals to God seem far more conflictual than consensual these days, and it leaves us to wonder if we might just be better off keeping to ourselves.

That religious faith is best practiced as, Boston University sociologist Peter Berger muses, “something done in private between consenting adults” (Krista Tippett, Speaking of Faith, p. 6).

But that is not the charge of our Christian faith nor is it the witness placed forth by John. The gospel is clear: we are called to spread the good news, to invite others in. Yet Christian witness, followed in the spirit of Jesus, is witness that neither seeks ownership of God as something to be parceled out by us (God is and must always remain free of our ownership or manipulation) nor forces violence upon another, physical or otherwise. God is not building a spiritual army or just hoping to fill the pews.

No, Christian witness, in the spirit of John and the disciples, is witness that creates space for relationships to be built, new community to be formed, life-giving friendships to be established, and faith to be given a place to grow and mature. Being in community, in meaningful relationships, finds space for bearing witness.

Several years ago, a Presbyterian pastor and former member of the Fourth Church staff, Bill Golderer, began a church community in downtown Philadelphia called Broad Street Ministries. Situated on a busy downtown street between some of Philadelphia’s most divergent communities—the Center City’s most expensive concert hall, its cheapest hotel, its most publicized homeless shelter, and its most recognized college of art—Broad Street seeks to create a space in which Christian witness becomes a reality.

Once a month, on a Wednesday night, Broad Street hosts community meals that they call No Barriers Dinners. They are free, family-style meals at which members of the community’s divergent populations gather around a table for conversation, sharing experiences, and exploring commonalities and differences. Individuals whose circumstances may have naturally kept them apart find common ground in a common meal. Everyone who wants to come is invited. No-strings-attached hospitality is the norm, and barriers are broken as food, drink, and conversation are shared. It is a meal that through its very existence provides witness to the idea that the good news that Jesus brings ought to be shared and it ought to be shared in community where relationships are built and lives are transformed.

I once heard a mentor of mine articulate it this way:

Jesus’ notion of community is to have a place of belonging, a place to call home. And in this city with its ever-growing population, young adults moving in for careers, people looking for a place to connect, the notion of community is vital. Every person needs a place to belong. It usually happens when we become part of a smaller group, a subgroup where we can develop close relationships, relationships with people who engage us and love us, with whom we can share our struggles and confess our temptations. It is where we can speak the truth to one another and pray, serve, grow, and become witnesses. (Robert W. Henderson, “Embracing the Mission,” Covenant Presbyterian Church, 9 March 2008)

We are privileged here at Fourth Church to have many opportunities to be a part of communities of witness, to build relationships and become bearers of the gospel.

There are the obvious ways to get involved, such as through Bible study, Sunday School, serving on a committee, or singing in the choir (which is about far more than just music). But there are also other ways, such as serving Monday Night Supper, tutoring a child, or going on a mission trip. They are all places to begin to get connected, to deepen our faith, and to reach out and connect with others beyond the walls of Fourth Church.

It is hard to do, isn’t it—to reach out and invite others into community? To get involved and to stretch ourselves to create space for circumstances where we might just find ourselves (right along with our neighbors) being transformed?

For many of us, the idea of being a witness to our faith stretches us in ways that make us a little uncomfortable, that make us want to hunker down in the pew, planting ourselves firmly right where we are as soon as we get wind that someone might be calling us to speak out loud or live vividly out of what God has done for us.

But each one of us is invited to be a part of that life-giving community, to live and to grow, to be nurtured by others, and to participate in being a witness of God’s good news in the world.

John cried out in the wilderness, Simon Peter joined Andrew and John, and Jesus calls to you and to me: Can I get a witness?

How will you respond?

All thanks be to God. Amen.