Bearing witness is what they do, these friends and neighbors horrified by masked thugs hauling away people who simply look like they might be immigrants. Phones out. Videos on, they testify, risking life and limb. Will it be enough?
John the Baptist left the security of doctrine and dogma to live in the desert and bear witness to the Holy.* To call out injustice. Preach repentance. Baptize with water, knowing it was preparation. John also links present with past religious stories when he cries out “Behold, the Lamb of God.” Sometimes that is our role too, bear witness and do the next right thing, trusting that another greater source is on the way.
Years ago, tears told me I was standing on holy ground, a witness to God at work in the world. My body knew it before I had words. As Sonya Dyer broke the communion loaf, she looked at us, a restless circle of ordinary people, saying “This is our body, broken for the healing of the world.” My hands got prickly, alive and I knew the Spirit was speaking. I had never seen a priest look at us rather than at the bread while saying those formal words of blessing. For years, I thought my tears were simply that I had never seen a woman at the altar, but now I know it was more than that. Communion took on a whole new meaning for me that day.
What had been a routine ritual became a monthly appointment with God. We still gather this way, a stressed and hopeful circle, knowing once again that WE are the body of Christ, broken apart for the healing work that is ours to do in this time and place. WE are to witness injustice and call it out. WE are to know and name God’s love for all, not just a selected few. Like John, bearing witness is the work that is ours to do.
