I choose to be a witness
“Please, tell me how to hold it all?” she asks me in an email. “Do you ever want to close your eyes, and plug your ears?”
“Yes.” I tell her. “If I’m honest, a few times a day.”
Her email was one of many. So many are struggling with what is happening. As if the ground is shifting under our feet. The news cycle feels relentless. It continues to sow disbelief, fear, and outrage, headline after headline.
It leaves many, feeling sad, anxious, unsettled, and even alarmed. Please know this my friends: they are all indicators that you still care. You heart still works, and that matters.
Returning to the woman’s question: in our fragile and divisive world, how do we rise above the weight of the noise? And, when it feels too easy to shut down, is it possible to make a difference, even when we feel helpless?
So. Let us sit for a spell. Let me tell you a story. I remember with gratitude, Elie Wiesel. He survived the World War II Nazi concentration camp of Buchenwald and death camp of Auschwitz. After liberation, he lived in France, Israel and the United States, where he advocated on behalf of victims of hate and persecution around the world. He died in 2016, at the age of 87.
Wiesel dedicated his life to the fight against all hatred, and for the affirmation that every man and woman carries with them dignity, formed in the image of God.
During his life, Wiesel was called a messenger of peace, a humanitarian and a survivor. When asked, he liked to call himself simply, “a witness”.
And as a witness, Wiesel said, it was his duty to never let those who suffered be forgotten. “Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented,” he said. “Sometimes we must interfere.”
I read a statement made in the Irish Times by a Connemara man, after he was arrested for a car accident. “There were plenty of onlookers, but no witnesses.”
In answering the email exchange question, “What exactly do we do?”
Today I have an answer. I am a witness. You are a witness.
As a witness, I choose to pay attention while I am here.
In a world that rewards “dog eat dog”, I choose mercy.
In a world where demeaning someone is applauded, I choose to honor dignity.
In a world where exclusion is real, I choose the Gospel: “You belong. Your humanity is not up for negotiation. Your presence does not require anyone’s permission.”
I choose to be a witness.
Yes. I can choose to show up now. Bravely, both strong, and tender.
What does this look like? Oh, it’s the little gifts my friends.
It makes a big difference to hug the hurt. To kiss the broken. To bandage the wounded. To befriend the lost. To love the lonely. To listen, making room for sadness. To grieve.
To stand up for the humiliated, and the degraded. To honor the dignity in every human. “I see you.”
To say Yes, to little gifts of compassion, connection, dignity, empathy, kindness, generosity, and peace that leave people better than we find them.
To say No, to cruelty, and mercilessness.
Thank you, my friends, for all your gifts of presence, and courage, and resolution, and kind-heartedness.
When people learn that I am a minister, they’re often curious to ask what I “believe”. And when I visit different churches, some people like to ask me. They can’t help themselves.
Okay, here you go:
God has a heart for those who are left out, forgotten, and excluded.
God’s grace is bigger than anything which distances and separates and wounds us.
You are God’s beloved child, and God’s love for you is unconditional.
And when I see acts of exclusion, or acts that disparage inclusion, I feel it, viscerally, and my beliefs matter, and they summon and fuel a choice: I want to be a witness to God’s Mercy and Grace.
Pope Leo reminded us all. “Caring for others is ‘the supreme law’ that comes before society’s rules.”
And caring for others, well, that is music worth singing. And it is the music of Grace.
What do I “believe”? Bottom line? I want to be like Jesus. Yes, Jesus, who sat with prostitutes and lepers (the “least of these”), and kept company with the outcasts and the downtrodden.
Let us be on the lookout for those left out. To say, No, to segregation and to cruelty.
Easy? Not really.
Stress-free? Not really.
I’m learning that this week. “I am cancelling my subscription. I need spiritual support without political intrusion,” wrote one reader.
In my recent Sabbath Moments, I’ve been “confessing” that in much of my ministry I worked hard (made certain) at not pushing any boundaries. “Mincing” words, in order “to not offend,” or ruffle any feathers. “What would people think?”
I now regret some of the choices I made. I can keep my head down, but my soul will pay the price. Let’s just say that this Sabbath Moment homily is to the man I now see in my mirror.
I have given myself grief when I don’t have the strength, or the courage to stand up and make a difference. Truth be told, sometimes, I am broken. But here’s the conundrum: I’ve assumed that brokenness is without capacity to spill light, and give, and make a difference. Lord have Mercy.
So, how can I be a witness?
Well, this is interesting. You see, compassion (service and care) and healing (restoration and self-care) are not mutually exclusive. Because the light we share is—quite literally—born in those broken places. Let me repeat: the light we share is born in the broken places. Which means that being a witness, goes hand in glove with renewal.
Mother Teresa was asked where she found her strength, her focus, her fuel. The fuel, she explained, is prayer. “To keep a lamp burning, we have to keep putting oil in it.”
To be replenished is to be reminded of what is true, of what tethers us. This is not just someone saying, “you’ll be okay.” But to know, at our core, that we are safe, and we are home. And now we have something to draw on. And that means we have something to give.
Yes. And I say that’s the oil Mother Teresa is talking about. Our sanctuary is not just for solace, but also indispensable as deterrent. Because with sanctuary, we build immunity; to not be as easily susceptible to fear, or to being at the mercy of every threat.
Onward together, my friends.
I am so grateful for the light being spilled as the Buddhist monks Walk for Peace. It sure does my heart good. Keep on spilling light, my brothers.
And yes, I watched the Super Bowl. And yes, I can breathe again. I do raise my glass to the Seattle Seahawks.
Quote for our week…
“To hurt another, we must first silence our inheritance. We must numb the heart where love lives. But one act—just one—can reawaken it. And maybe that’s the miracle: not that love fixes everything, but that it reminds us that we were never truly gone from the grace of God.” Charlie Hedges
Join me March 21 (9am – 1pm) – St. Therese of the Little Flower Catholic Church, Reno, Nevada. Our topic: The gift of emotional and spiritual hydration. For more information, call the church – (775) 322-2255
I am so very grateful that you are a part of Sabbath Moment. And grateful for the support that makes it possible. Please, pass Sabbath Moment on to friends. And invite them to join us. My email address tdh@terryhershey.com
BULLETIN BOARD
Today’s Photo Credit: “Terry, thanks so much for the ‘confession’ which we all need to make from time to time. ‘Hide behind the luxury of silence’ is my bad. In this crucial time in history, I confess I struggle to know when to ‘give witness’ to truth. Thanks for planting a stake in the ground of justice! Last evening the Snow Moon rose at our horizon as we made our way home. My wife and I pulled over and gawked.” BobKeener… Thank you Bob… And thank you to all, I love your photos… please, keep sending them… send to tdh@terryhershey.com
Yes, your gift makes a difference… Donation = Love…
Help make Sabbath Moment possible. I write SM because I want to live with a soft heart; to create a place for sanctuary, empathy, inclusion, compassion and kindness… a space where we are refueled to make a difference. SM remains free.
(Address by check: PO Box 65336, Port Ludlow, WA 98365)
POEMS AND PRAYERS
Morning prayer.
We wait in the dawn
Until Your light is within us
Lord, let your deep joy
Shine out from our eyes
Grant that your wisdom
Will inspire us with brightness
Let the splendour of your glory
Glow out through our actions
Come and burn within us
Until we radiate your light
Capture our cold hearts
Set us ablaze with your love
Change us and we shall changed
Lord, fill us with the light of life…
David Adam
“We do not become healers.
We came as healers.
We are.
Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become storytellers.
We came as carriers of the stories
we and our ancestors actually lived.
We are.
Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become artists.
We came as artists.
We are.
Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become writers…dancers…musicians…helpers…peacemakers.
We came as such.
We are.
Some of us are still catching up to what we are.”
Clarissa Pinkola Estés
Music for the Soul…
New–
God’s Counting On Me, God’s Counting On You – Pete Seeger
Last week —
We walk for Peace — Buddhist monks Walk for Peace
This Little Light of Mine — Bruce Springtsteen
