What I enjoy the most about John's Gospel is his mystical and poetic style of writing. The Gospel of John is a reflection of a community's theology, more than a re-telling of events. The author frequently makes use of metaphor; for example Jesus is not described as the "Son of Man" in this Gospel, but as the "light of the world", "the vine" and "the good shepherd". He also uses words that can have double meaning such as being "born again". The Greek word, "anothen" means again or from above. The author insists that it is not one or the other, but both. When we accept the Christian life, we start over again, we are "born again" - but of course it is not another human birth, this second birth comes from the Spirit, "from above".

In today's reading we begin with a brief introduction about John the Baptist. It has a lyrical quality about it, reflecting the uniqueness of John's Gospel: "There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him." The passage continues, as John the Baptist declares at least four times that he is not the Light, but a witness to it. John is not the Messiah, he is not Jesus; John is a witness who testifies to "the light" - a metaphorical expression for Jesus.

We liberal Christians tend to be uncomfortable with the term "witness". In our time the word witness has been co-opted to mean "one who tells others about" or a "proselytizer". More simply put, some of us think of a witness as a doorbell ringer or the person that corners you at a bus stop and quiz's you on your faith beliefs. But in Greek the word is "marturia", the root of our English "martyr" and has the sense of one who sees or experiences, and who lives and (sometimes) even dies out of that experience. A Christian witness can articulate their faith and yet, more importantly, it shapes how they live their daily lives.

This shift from knowing to doing often occurs for a person when some experience in their life awakens them to how pertinent Jesus' teachings are to today's world.

Last summer when I was on study leave at Holden Village I sat in on a class taught by Professor Wanda Deifelt, a Feminist Theologian, pastor, wife and mother from Brazil. She told the story of working as an intern chaplain with a health organization in a poor village in Brazil. One day she was working with a midwife that was delivering the baby of a woman who could possibly bleed to death. The midwife was concerned that the mother might die from childbirth, and if not this time, would most likely die if she were to get pregnant again. Wanda and the midwife talked to the mother who refused to accept their suggestion that she have her tubes tied after the baby was born due to the risk of another pregnancy. The mother turned away from them in shame and said that they must talk to her husband; he was the one to make the decision. When they explained the situation to him, he refused. His response was: "What will my friends think if I am married to someone who cannot have anymore children? If she dies the next time, I will marry a younger one."

It was out of that experience that Wanda's life became a witness "to the light of Christ". It was like all of a sudden a light went on and she could see how the Bible had been used in that already "machismo" culture, to continue keeping women powerless over their own well-being. After such an eye-opening experience, her faith took on a whole new meaning and it began to shape the direction she would take in her life. Her commitment now is to use her education and faith to help both women and men come to understand that God's intent for human relationships is mutual respect, a partnership between equals. She is beginning to make a difference both in the seminary as she works with the formation of new pastors, and in local communities as she creates support groups and studies scriptures from the liberation perspective with young women and mothers.

Wanda had an experience that transformed her beliefs into a way of living. She is not the "Light", but a witness to the Light. Like John the Baptist, she is helping prepare the way for the light of Christ to enter into the hearts and minds of others in a way that is liberating rather than oppressive.

Witnessing or "testifying to the light" means that Christianity becomes more than just a religion, it is a way of life. It reminds me of those once popular bracelets that many teens used to wear that had the initials, "WWJD" on them. It stands for "What would Jesus do?" Those bracelets were meant to be a reminder for teens to allow their religious values and ethics to inform their daily decisions and actions.

This week I read a moving article written by a colleague, Rev. Peter Ilgenfritz, one of the pastors at University Congregational Church. He is also active in the Center for Contemplation and Nonviolence, a nonprofit organization that seeks to combine contemplation with social action. This past year Peter went through a training at the center and in October he made the decision to join 20 other people at the Federal Building in Seattle to meet with our Senator's, Maria Cantwell and Patty Murray prior to the vote regarding military action in Iraq. Peter and his group went to meet with Senator Murray. They met with one of her aide's who took notes on their perspectives and then promised to share them with the Senator. Some of the visitors got up to leave, but Peter and four others found that something inside of them told them they could not. They proceeded to sit in front of Senator Murray's closed door, hoping she might return so they could speak with her directly. They stayed there all day, joining in prayer while also talking to a variety of people that passed by about why they were there. At 5:30 p.m. they were asked by the federal officers to leave, when they did not, they were arrested, cited, and released. Peter writes: "At 5:30, the federal officers, as expected, came by and asked again if we would leave. When they came to me and asked if I would, I drew deep down to that rock of stillness and peace and God, and responded, "I wish I could - I really do, but my faith says I cannot." Peter, like John the Baptist, was not the Light, but a witness to the Light.

Of course we are not all called to testify or witness in these ways, yet we all testify to the Light of Christ by how we live and die. The commitment to witness to the Light with our daily lives is born in us when we begin to realize that faith remains only a religion until we allow ourselves to engage our "religion" with real life.

In this morning's paper I went looking for stories about witnesses to the Light. It was an amazing morning, perhaps reflective of the time of year, for I did not have to look far before I found them. On the front page was the story of a Seattle elementary school teacher connecting his students to the elderly residents at Hearthstone, a Lutheran owned retirement and nursing home facility near Greenlake. His goal is to raise the children's understanding and comfort level with our seniors, and aging itself. Perhaps you saw the wonderful front-page picture of the child with big glasses on that had a gel spread across the lenses. The gel-covered lenses gave the child the opportunity to see what it is sometimes like to look through older eyes. In the Travel section were stories about people who are choosing to make their travel experiences into volunteer opportunities to build homes for people without them in places like El Salvador and Costa Rica. In the Northwest section there was a story about a 16 year old girl in South Seattle that has created a teen support group that helps people in need and guides the neighborhood teens towards positive activities.

We are witnesses to the Light, each one of us.
How does your religion come to life? How does it become a testament to the Light of Christ in the world?