Taking a (Witness) Stand

In my Early Church History class, we have just been reading about the persecutions of the early church, before Constantine allowed Christianity in the Empire. Reading about the martyrs and the confessors (those who were tortured in an attempt to force them to recant, but who survived their torture and were not martyred), I have to examine my own faith. Would I be able to withstand torture and death rather than deny Christ? Would I be able to take my children with me into the arena for the sake of the proclamation of God's incarnation? I really don't know. I am lucky enough to live in a time and place that does not demand it of me. My teacher (who is a Coptic nun) was quick to point out that the majority of the world is not such a time and place - Christians are persecuted and killed for their faith all over the world today.

As I was thinking about this, I recalled one of the most powerful witnesses I have ever seen. When I was in college at the University of Virginia, there was a man who went from school to school along the East Coast, preaching. He claimed to represent Christ, but he was really preaching pure law - it was fire and brimstone stuff. Granted, we college students could use a dose of what he was dealing out, but mostly we were just laughing at him. He was a ridiculous spectacle, shouting at us about drugs and sex and Led Zepplin parties. If anyone in the audience asked him a question, he would give them three strikes, and then tell them they were going to hell. He didn't have moment to spare for grace or the gospel. He wanted us to repent, but only to avoid the pit.

So, there we were, laughing and making snide comments, we clever young educated atheists. And there he was, yelling and screaming and trying in his flawed way to save us from the fiery furnace. And in between us, a young man stood up. He was softspoken, gentle, polite - and he spoke the gospel to us. He told us God's promises and how God had come to be with us in our sorry state of sin and then taken that sin on God's self, up on to the cross, and died for us. He told us that our sins were forgiven, and that repentance was a response to this. He spoke Truth and Beauty and Grace for us. He bore witness like no one I have ever seen or heard before or since. And he did it in the face of our sneers, and with his back to the man who was telling us not to listen to him, that this guy was going to hell, too. I don't have any idea who he was, I wouldn't recognize his face if I saw it, but that young man was one of the bravest people I ever saw, and is for me an ideal of witness.

Sometimes, when I'm preaching, it crosses my mind that I had better really believe what I am saying. As a preacher, standing in the middle of the front of the sanctuary, I could be the target for whatever hatred might come through the door. I suppose that it is a kind of bravery, but mostly I am standing in front of people who I know agree with me. It is a radical act to stand up and preach the gospel in any time and place (or it should be). Would I be able to do it when I don't know what the people in front of me think? Would I be able to do it if I knew I could die for it? Could I take a stand for my faith, when my well-being, my life, my dignity, or even just my sense of tact is on the line?