On Bearing Witness
The Holy work of not looking away
Months ago I watched the movie, “Like A Boss”, which was entirely forgettable, except for this one scene that will not leave my mind.
There’s this moment when Billy Porter’s character has just been fired from his job, and the women who are announcing his firing to him, are caught up in their own squabbling over their situation, while ignoring how the news has just hit their now-former employee. Shocked at their dismissal of him in this moment, Porter shushes them and claps out, “Witness! My! Tragic! Moment!
(So you don’t have to watch the whole movie, I made you this gif of the scene.)
I have not been able to stop thinking about this scene ever since I first saw it. While it’s played comedically here, it speaks to something much more serious—something I’ve been thinking about for literal months, and that is, the Christian responsibility of bearing witness to one another’s suffering.
Bearing witness to the tragic moments of others, is a holy a work. It is powerful to look into the eyes of a fellow human and say in earnest, “I SEE you,” and “Forgive me, I didn’t know.” It’s also holy work to simply sit with them in their tragic moment, not saying anything at all.
There’s a temptation to respond to someone’s insistence that we LOOK on them in their suffering, with a sense of indigence. American’s are so very practiced at doing what we want, when we want, and not bowing humbly towards one another under any circumstances. Our love affair with a me-first attitude does not lend itself well to this kind of necessary surrender. None of this changes how right it is, for others to ask us to really look on their suffering—to SEE.
Don’t we want others to see us when we hurt? Isn’t it human to want to know that we are not forgotten when tragedy shatters our life? We are so uncomfortable with people’s pain—we are uncomfortable with our own pain. We do not know how to lament, corporately or privately. Yet, the practice of these things is a worthwhile study. It is a necessary part of our journey with Jesus.
Bearing witness is a part of what it means to be the body of Christ. It’s a way to fulfill the very work of Christ, right here and now.
Carry one another’s burdens; in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.
(Galatians 6:2, CSB)
Eugene Peterson’s Message translation puts it this way:
Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. If you think you are too good for that, you are badly deceived.
(Galatians 6:2-3)
This work comes at a cost. In our inability (or unwillingness) to bear witness, we are at risk of becoming “destroyers of the Christian community,” by refusing to really love those in the community—or even, to love those into the community.
Bonhoeffer wrote that,
“Those who love their dream of a Christian community more than they love the Christian community itself become destroyers of that Christian community even though their personal intentions may be ever so honest, earnest and sacrificial. God hates this wishful dreaming because it makes the dreamer proud and pretentious. Those who dream of this idolized community demand that it be fulfilled by God, by others and by themselves. They enter the community of Christians with their demands set up by their own law, and judge one another and God accordingly.” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer)
Do we love the community, or only the dream of the community? You can’t love someone you won’t look at. You can’t love someone you’re dismissive of. Being in community is messy. We are not Flat-Stanley’s, but rather, complicated people, with complicated histories, private wounds, unconscious biases, confused identities, and hidden hatred.
Bearing witness to the tragic moments of others requires us to forsake the “dream of Christian community” and instead live IN real community, with all of the risks and costs most of us are afraid, or unwilling to pay. Personally, this hits uncomfortably close to home for me in this moment. I write this today as a student, not a teacher. I am still learning what it means to willingly bear witness the tragic moments of others.
Bearing witness isn’t about offering answers or solutions. It deals in the realm of presence, which, in this current climate, is perhaps one of the greatest challenges we face—to be truly present where we are, and with whomever we are with.
“To be listened to is more important than to be given answers. Knowing someone else is willing to give attention to your suffering is the kind of companionship and empathy that gets us through this life.” ~Tresta Payne
We were not meant to suffer alone. Christ suffers with us, and His with-ness bears witness. He surrendered Himself to a suffering world, taking on the burden of all heartbreak, for all time, refusing to look away.
Stoop down.
Reach out to those who are oppressed.
Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law.
Noteworthy
My friends Shawn and Maile Smucker just launched their Nine Month Novel*. This is a true gift to writers seeking to start (or finish!) that novel you’ve been dreaming about.
I’ve been listening to a lot of Joy’s music these days. Her song “Wearing Love” is a new favorite for me. I highly recommend it to you.
It’s almost the one-year anniversary for Everything Is Yours. How should we celebrate?
This was well worth the listen.
One of the voices I’m really appreciating on social media these days.
As part of a class I am teaching, my students and I listened to Martin Luther King Jr.’s Letter From A Birmingham Jail. If you’ve never read it, this is an excellent way to experiences it, as it is read by King himself.
This devastating report was just released, followed by this apology. (Trigger warning: this deals with sexual and spiritual abuse) While I don’t normally like sharing things like this in my newsletter, I think it is critical that we in the church keep standing up against the toxicity of fame, power, and the lack of accountability for those in any positions of leadership.
Books currently on my nightstand: The Wintering, The Other Half Of The Church, Gentle and Lowly, Wilderness Time and The Color Of Law.*
* These are affiliate links
A Personal Note
Many of you have been following along as I have shared about my husband’s back injury and subsequent spinal surgery. You have generously sent food, flowers, prayers, and notes of love and encouragement, and have in effect, “witnessed our tragic moment”. I cannot begin to express how deeply this has touched us both. Most of you do not know Kurt at all, but you have reached out to him through me, and the extension of your love is felt and deeply appreciated. He is recovering slowly, and while we don’t yet know if the surgery has truly helped, we remain hopeful. Your kindness has been like a buoy to us both.
Grace to you, friends. May the comfort of Christ’s actual presence be yours today.
In love,
Kris Camealy