Testimony

Christian Science churches hold "testimony meetings" on Wednesday nights, midway between the regular Sunday services. After a short reading, the congregation sits in silence, eyes shut, on the ceiling, or unfocused, but senses in tune to the other seekers in the room. When someone feels compelled to speak, and senses that no one else feels the same, they stand and let their voice fill the silence.

Scientists testify about moments when they get a clear glimpse of the reality of things, the divine reality over this false reality we live in each day. They call it a moment of healing. It can be physical or metaphysical healing-- recovery from an illness, for instance, or a realization that brings your frame of mind closer in tune with the divine reality.

Testimony affirms the universe as it exists in Christian Science thought, a view of the universe that I don't subscribe to. More important to me, testimony is a sharing of a personal experience, or a newspaper article recently read, or an existential reflection triggered by a sight or sound or other person. They are affirmations of the sacred in the world.

My housemate S (a practicing Presbyterian) and I have occasionally discussed the presence-- and sometimes absence-- of moments in our lives that feel beyond us, feel profoundly important and profoundly sacred. S might chalk up these experiences to the presence of God or Spirit in our lives. I might call it stimuli that triggers our emotions and consciousness in a specific, surprising way. New nerve connections. A type of learning of the emotion.

Whatever its source, I still believe these moments are important. They are a moment of connection with the universe, imagined or not. Both of us tend to find this feeling in nature. Have we had those experiences since we moved to New York? we ask each other. And we wonder, how do we keep track of them and not forget? Does it matter if we remember them?

When a Scientist finishes the testimony, they sit and the silence resumes. But the story lingers. The other students (as they call themselves) turn it over in their minds, let it move or not move them. After a while, someone else stands and tells their own story.

Christian Scientists devote time every week to our tangible experiences of the sacred, and they go a step farther-- they share the wealth. The testimony is not written down, but if it touches anyone in the room, it will be remembered and used. I have overheard a member of the congregation approaching another member and thanking them for a testimony shared months or years ago.

In college, I interviewed a lot of 'religious' people by sitting down with them and asking them to tell me their story-- how did you come to be the Scientist, or the Twelve Tribes member, or the Greek Orthodox, that you are today? I had usually spent a few months with them already in worship, in washing dishes together, or in bible study, and so this question needed no addendum. Most people launched into a long, deeply personal testimony of their own lives, highlighting the moments of existential despair and triumph. I simply listened.

I have many of these interviews saved as transcripts or voice recordings on my computer. Even without looking or listening to them, I think to certain stories that touched me. I remember a woman sitting beside her partner on the edge of a lake, knowing her life was about to change forever. I remember a teenager realizing that she was wrong to feel tainted for making the choices she had. I remember a boy sucked under by a river eddy and clutching to a log, unsure if he would breathe again. I remember a girl sitting on the curb on a winter morning, her fingers running through a rosary for the first time as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I hold none of their faiths. I can not claim those testimonies for my own. But I was a person touched in the room, and I remember those stories and use them.