Witnessing

 

Acts 10:34-43

 

            I was once walking across the campus of a state university when I came across someone who was witnessing to his faith in Jesus Christ. I could hear him long before I saw him. He was standing out in the open at the intersection of several heavily traveled sidewalks—clean cut, neatly dressed, with a Bible in one hand, proclaiming in a loud voice what the Bible says about life and how to live it, and telling people what they needed to do to get themselves right with God.

            He had a huge audience of several hundred college students walking to their next class or to the student union. Or to put it another way, he did not have any audience at all, because nobody was paying much attention to him. That included me. Like everyone else, I walked by without even slowing down. I did not have the slightest interest in stopping to listen to what he had to say.

            I found myself embarrassed for the guy, who was trying so hard to do what was right, trying so hard to proclaim a heartfelt message, only to be so totally and publicly rejected. And I found myself irritated at the image he was presenting of Christians. He seemed to be playing right into stereotypes of people who think strong religious convictions are for social misfits, naïve do-gooders, and crackpot holy rollers.

 

            Today we are confronted by a passage from Acts that talks about this very situation. Peter declares the following:

            “They put Jesus to death by hanging him on a tree; but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses.  He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God.”

            This isn’t the only place we hear this. In Luke, Jesus says, “You are to be witnesses of these things that have come to pass.” And again in Acts 1, Jesus says, “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come over you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

 

            Now is there any way I can justify my jaded attitude toward the earnest young evangelist in light of what I just read? Could anyone be a more sincere, committed witness than that guy lifting his voice and his Bible before hundreds of college students? Wasn’t he doing exactly what the Bible tells us to do? Shouldn’t we admit that the only difference between that young man and us is that he has guts and we don’t?

 

            I sense panic starting to seep into the congregation. Because if this guy is the role model for how we are to witness, we are all in deep trouble. We’re about to be buried under a mountain of guilt, and there’s no way out. Let’s face it--no way am I ever going to do anything like that! I’d sooner die. My guess is that you feel the same way.

 

            The question is, is this guy the role model or not? If he is, how can anyone who won’t do what Jesus commanded, claim to be a Christian?

 

 

 

            It’s a question that we struggle with all the time.

            How do we fulfill the clear commands to be witnesses, especially when many of us feel uncomfortable talking about our faith to other Christians? How can we be witnesses when we are reluctant to share our faith stories within our own congregation, to our own children?

 

            And if we have trouble even going there, how are we supposed to witness to those who have no belief in anything spiritual, or to those who have a strong faith in their own tradition? How do we do this?

 

            As with many issues that seem so thorny and complicated, the answer turns out to be right under our noses. Let’s just back away from the religious definition of the word “witness” for a moment. We in the church tend to dress that word up with so much religious baggage that we miss the point of what a witness is and does.

 

            I’ve been called to jury duty three times in my life, served on two juries, and have been a jury foreman. If you’ve ever been on jury duty, you get a clear perspective of what a witness is all about. There are three types of people you listen to when deciding a case: the judge, the attorney, and the witnesses.

            The judge is the authority figure—the person in charge, who knows the law and rules on all matters pertaining to the legal system. The attorneys are the persuaders who offer an interpretation of the evidence, who try to convince you that their version of events is correct and that the other side’s version is, at best, questionable. The witnesses are the ones who give the actual testimony.

            There are two types of witnesses. There are experts--those who have specialized knowledge of a subject that may shed some light on the case. And there are the just plain ordinary witnesses. Their job is simply to tell what they know.

 

            The problem with Christian witnessing comes when we mix up the roles in this courtroom drama. Too many Christians would rather be the judge than the witness. When they talk about God, about faith in Jesus, they’re busy running the show, finding fault, sentencing other people, ruling them out of order, finding them in contempt, or to put it more kindly, instructing people in the law. They declare with great authority what their listeners must do to conform to God’s laws, and threaten dire punishment against those who fail to heed their warnings.

 

            But it doesn’t say in these passages that Jesus commanded us to be judges of the people, ruling over Jerusalem and all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth. It says, you shall be my witnesses. That loud proclaimer on the campus lawn may have intended to be a witness. But what I heard talking was a judge, telling everyone what they had to do.

 

 

 

 

            Too many Christians would rather be the attorney than the witness. Attorneys are not as authoritarian as the judges. In our adversarial system of justice, their job is to represent one side of a dispute-- to persuade others to accept their version of the truth. If you just listen to what I have to say, you’ll have to agree that I’m right and the other people are wrong.

            The attorney’s job in our justice system is not to facilitate an open discussion. There’s no give and take. When the other person makes a point, the attorney’s job is not to say, “That’s a great insight, I never thought of that. You may be on to something.” His or her job is to counter that point—to point the clients interest in the best possible light.

 

            The attorney has a different goal than either the judge or the witness, and that goal is to win an argument, to win the case. Whether they are defending a client or seeking justice on behalf of the state, they accomplish their goal by winning the argument. Now I appreciate the difficulty of the task, and the responsibility that goes with it, and it’s not something just anyone can do. But a lot of Christians seem to want the job.

 

            When I hear people talk about “winning souls for Christ,” I get uncomfortable. It sounds as if each convert were another pelt you nail to wall, or a stuffed head for the trophy case, or a trial victory to pad your resume and reputation.

 

            But it does not say in these passages: you are commanded to be my attorneys, winning cases all over Jerusalem and all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth.” It says, you shall be my witnesses. That loud proclaimer on the campus lawn may have intended to be a witness. But what the rest of us heard was an attorney looking to win a high-profile case.

 

            Even Christians who content themselves with being witnesses would often rather be the experts witnesses than the ordinary witnesses. They understand so much more about life and society and politics and God and the Bible and about the way things ought to be than anyone else, and they are happy to bestow upon the rest of humanity the benefit of their wisdom.

 

            But it doesn’t say in these passages: you are called to be my expert witnesses, dispensing wisdom to the ignorant all over Jerusalem and Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. It says, you shall be my witnesses. That earnest proclaimer on the campus lawn may have intended to be a witness. But what I heard was an expert telling me how things really are.

 

            I’m not sure why we’re so attracted to the other courtroom roles or why we think so little of the witness role that God calls us to assume. In my times on the jury, the ordinary witnesses were the key to the trial. Yes, the judge runs the proceedings and explains the legal guidelines; the attorneys present plausible ways to interpret the evidence. But when we were in the jury room deciding guilty or not guilty, we spent most of our time considering what the witnesses said.

 

 

            And here’s the key: it wasn’t the experts who were the most persuasive. A lot of us beg off talking about our faith because we’re not experts. I don’t know that much about theology or the Bible or church doctrine and so I can’t be a witness. I suspect that’s behind the reluctance of many in this congregation to share a faith story.

 

            But in the jury room, we didn’t spend much time on expert witnesses. Each side has their own, they’re getting well-paid to tell their story, and they tend to cancel each other out. The people we listened to most closely were the ordinary witnesses.

 

            These witnesses do not give their opinions or interpretations. They are not allowed to give hearsay testimony. They have one responsibility and one responsibility only: to tell what they know to be true.

 

            Some witnesses are believable. Others are not. What makes the difference? As I think back on my jury experiences, I can think of three traits that make for credibility in a witness:

            1) Objectivity. If the defendant’s pal says he didn’t run a stop sign, and a bystander who knows neither party in the case says he did, whom do you believe? You believe the person with nothing to gain. To be an effective witness for Christ, we have to first convince people that we have no ulterior motive, nothing to gain personally. That our goal is not trying to win souls or boost membership at our congregation or to make Christians a stronger political voice in this country. Our motivation is simply that we have witnessed something in our lives and we are motivated by the love of God to share what we’ve seen.

            2) Consistency. Nothing destroys a witness’s credibility more than a story that keeps changing. To be effective witnesses, we can’t say one thing and then give a different message with the way we conduct ourselves. If the lives we live do not demonstrate that we believe what we are saying, no one is going to believe us.

            3) Character. It’s a hard issue for a jury because you don’t get to know the witnesses. You have to look for small clues, often nonverbal signals to get a feel for who is honest. Are they respectful of others? Do they conduct themselves with dignity? Are they putting on an act. It would be easier to assess character if you knew the person. For a Christian witness, the better people know you, the better they can assess your character. You will have far greater credibility among those who know your character than if you go cold-calling on strangers.

 

            So at last we get to it: How do we talk to an atheist about Christianity? By being a witness. Not a judge, an attorney, or an expert. Just a witness. Build up credibility in the way we treat a neighbor. Live a life that is in line with what we profess as Christians. Listen to their story, their witness. And then simply tell what you know. Tell how you have found meaning and purpose in your life. Tell what God is doing in your life. Tell people what happens at your church and what they would be likely to find if they went there.

 

            How do we talk to others who have their own strong faith in a different religious tradition? By being a witness. Not a judge, an attorney, or an expert. Build up credibility in the way you treat your neighbor. Live a life that is in line with what you profess as a Christian. Listen to their story, their witness. And then simply tell what you know. Tell how you have found meaning and purpose in your life. Tell what God is doing in your life. Tell people what happens at your church and what they would be likely to find if they went there.

 

            How do we talk to our own congregation, our own children about Christianity? By being a witness. Not a judge, an attorney, or an expert. Build up credibility in the way you treat each other. Live a life that is in line with what you profess as a Christian. Listen to their story, their witness. And then simply tell what you know. Tell how you have found meaning and purpose in your life. Tell what God is doing in your life.

 

            But is witnessing enough? Aren’t we supposed to save the lost? Isn’t it a sellout to pretend that other religions equally valid in their own way?

 

            Suppose you find the floodwaters rising. All roads are blocked. It becomes apparent that the flood is going to wash away the entire town. The people need to get out. You get word that a large helicopter is coming to evacuate your neighborhood in one hour. Do you spread the word, or do you keep it to yourself? Of course, you spread the word.

            One of your neighbors says, “That’s okay, I’ve got another way out.” Another says, “I don’t think the chopper’s coming; I’m leaving a different way.” You know they don’t have a boat, so you can’t imagine how they’re going to get out. But both are certain they will be fine.

 

            Are they going to be fine? I don’t know. Maybe there is another way. Maybe there are several ways out. I can’t imagine what they would be, but I cannot say that there’s no other way to safety. As a witness, it’s not my job to speculate. My responsibility is to tell what I know: that a helicopter will be here in an hour, and if you get on it, you are going to be fine.

 

            Do I play judge with my neighbors and tell them they’re doomed? Do I play attorney and argue with them? Or do I do what God asks--be a witness. As a witness I tell what I know, shake hands with them, wish them well, and then go out and do my job: which is to find desperate people in my neighborhood who have no hope, who don’t know of any way out, and tell them about the helicopter.

 

            There is a place for judges in the church. We call them prophets. There is a place for attorneys and expert witnesses in the church. We call them theologians and pastors. God calls them to their duties when they are needed.

 

            But when I ask you to share your faith stories, that’s not what I’m asking, because it’s not what God asks. These verses today call us to be witnesses. To tell what we know—the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God!