On being witnesses

The church as community – the communion of the saints (i.e. each believer as holy/set apart, not the appointed saints of the Roman Catholic church…just in case some of you were quacking in your boots) – is something that we talk about very easily and very often. We profess to its importance every time we recite one of the creeds together. It is often the hinge point of many a sermon. It is something we try very hard to establish in one form or another in the faith communities we are a part of.

And yet, as I was sitting with the 13thFLOOR students in our Face2Face service Sunday night - listening to their prayers, their questions and their comments – I couldn’t help but wonder whether we really understood what we are saying? A question becoming ever more prominent as I sit in meetings and experience the desire, the need, to be heard...to be acknowledged as "being there"...as existing...

Com-mun-ion (kəˈmyo͞onyən): 1) The sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, esp. when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level. 2) Common participation in a mental or emotional experience. What does that mean for “the communion of the saints” we so eagerly profess? That we as community of believers, in every context we find ourselves in, should be the space where others are free to exchange with us their innermost thoughts and questions and desires and fear. That there should be no boundaries between us, no closets for skeletons to hide in, no taboos. But THAT is a space that can only be created in the following ways:

• In order for others to open up to us, we need to be willing to open all of ourselves up to them. It's a risky business for both sides, but true exchange without risk is not true.
• Where judgement is first and foremost, there is little to no room for vulnerability. The sharing of truly intimate thoughts and feelings thus needs us to be willing to really hear the whole story and see the whole person.

I am reminded of something Susan Sarandon’s character says in Shall we dance? (I have edited it a wee bit): “We need a witness to our lives. There are a billion people on the planet, what does any one life really mean? But, in communion, you're promising to care about everything - the good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things; all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying: ‘Your life will not go unnoticed BECAUSE I WILL NOTICE IT.  Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness’.”

To be able to notice, we need to have our eyes and ears open. More than that, we need to be inquisitive. We need to take the initiative. Only then can we be a witness worth mentioning. A witness that helps those around us realise, with every fibre of their being, that they are important beyond words. That is what Jesus spent His days doing - noticing (especially) those people that nobody bothered with, witnessing not only that they existed, but that their existence mattered! 

“One must always be aware, to notice even though the cost of noticing is to become responsible.” - Thylias Moss 

Well then, what are you waiting for? :)

Happy living

Even if you were to study your own life in detail and relive each moment that you suffered, sweated and smiled beneath the sun, you would still never know exactly when you had been useful to someone else.

A life is never useless. Each soul that came down to earth is here for a reason.

The people who really help others are not trying to be useful, but are simply leading a useful life. They rarely give advice, but serve as an example.

Do one thing: live the life you always wanted to live. Avoid criticising others and concentrate on fulfilling your dreams.

This may not seem very important to you, but God, who sees all, knows that the example you give is helping Him to improve the world. And each day, He will bestow more blessings upon it.

And when the "unwanted visitor" arrives, you will hear it say: "It is fair to ask: 'Father, Father, why hast thou forsaken me?' But now, in this final second of your life on Earth, I am going to tell you what I saw: 

I found the house clean, the table laid, the fields ploughed, the flowers smiling. I found each thing in its proper place, precisely as it should be. You understood that small things are responsible for great changes. And for that reason, I will carry you up to Paradise."

(Taken from "Manuscript found in Accra" by Paulo Coelho)

About today

I have been thinking about my friends in the “caring” professions a lot lately…maybe because I know just how hard this year has hit most of us.

Ah, “caring professions” – the sugar coated, more than slightly patronising name given to those jobs that daily deal with life’s mess; to those people who dedicate their time and their passion to wading through the chaos and the fragments that living can turn a person into, trying to help salvage and restore. Some people – mostly those not in one of these professions – will declare it a blessing. Most will look at you strangely, wondering why you do this to yourself. All enjoy being at the “cared for” end.

And then I heard this The National song again yesterday:

“Today you were far away, and I didn't ask you why.

What could I say? I was far away.

You just walked away, and I just watched you - what could I say?

Tonight you just close your eyes, and I just watch you slip away.”

It reminded me that that is how most of the world lives – far away – from each other, from themselves. Now, a whole lot of the population really isn’t even aware that’s what’s happening. They live their lives completely unaware of the worlds they are walking past. It’s those people who look at you all confused when you talk about what you cannot help but see going on around you. There are those who do experience “inklings” – who see the distance, the stories unfolding, but who prefer to stay “far away”. We would not want things to get complicated and uncomfortable, now would we?

And then there are those – like my best friend Maryke – who feel like they’re always living “a little too close for comfort”. Those who have been cursed with the gift of true empathy; those who can never be “far away” from anyone; those who cannot help but see. It is to you that I dedicate this post. So here’s to you – the really crazy ones.

The ones who cannot close off or pretend that stories and worlds aren’t happening right next to them. More than that, who do not want to. You can see it in their eyes, because they truly see you. They are brave beyond measure. They are never far away. They always ask what everyone else is afraid to. They always choose to engage, even if they don’t know what to say. They never give up, no matter what they feel like. They will never allow you to just “slip away”.

You are a very rare breed indeed. You are mostly undervalued, and always underpaid. You are misunderstood. Your lives will always be full and difficult. You don’t often get to see the results of your “being close”. But you are precious beyond measure. The curse of your gift is the only thing that keeps this world standing. Without your eyes, your hearts, your hands and your efforts, life would continue to be a hollow shell. If you were ever to give up, we might just as well close the curtains on the charade called “an unexamined life”. Because of you dreaming becomes possible. Hell, thinking of things such as possibilities becomes possible!

Thank you. Please do not ever stop, no matter how hard it might be. And may God grant you the gift of at least one other “really crazy” like you, who can help you carry without even talking. YOU ARE PRECIOUS BEYOND MEASURE.