Being There

In 1985 something happened.  The story goes along the lines that in the middle of a performance, actually in the middle of a song in the middle of a performance at a major venue, the band broke up.  I haven’t read any eyewitness accounts.  Maybe there’s an article in the paper of the day, but the quotes have long since been lost to most of us.  But they know.  The people in the band know better than anyone else.  They are the only ones who could possibly tell the story because they were the best witnesses.  Whatever the story was, a new chapter began last night.  For the first time the band was publicly performing together, on stage, in front of many who counted themselves as the faithful in the early eighties.
 
Witnessing this from the outside is weird.  Given their smiles and the way they played off each other, it is hard to imagine what could have happened on that day twenty years ago.  Last night told a very different story and the faithful loved it!  They danced, clapped, and even screamed their pleasure – recapturing memories of what was, recreating memories for what is.  Even as I write I wonder what happened last night.
 
In order to understand the journey we travel and share, we need what eyewitnesses bring – a sense of retelling, reflecting, and perspective.  The colors, textures, and pictures story tellers give us are presents directly from God.  We can be there, participants in the community’s bigger story.  An old observation of the process applies truthfully to life today.
 
“The eyewitness to these things has presented an accurate report.  He saw it himself and is telling the truth so that you, also, will believe.” (John 19.35) 
 
Stories are lived and witnessed everyday.  We are a part – playing the role of participant and observer.  I wonder how my story is being seen by eyewitnesses.  Whatever happened yesterday is part of history, but today – ah the canvas is here for our touch.  Everything is possible.  We can be there/here with compassion, hope, and mercy.