A CHARACTER OF KINDNESS

“The most important [commandment],” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”  (Mark 12:39-42 NIV)

Many of us find that there is much more to life than getting and keeping. True fulfillment comes with the responsibilities we assume: to care for our families, and to love a neighbor as we want to be loved ourselves. This is more than a familiar saying; it is the foundation of a meaningful life.

A person shows his or her character in kindness and charity. And what is true in our lives is also true in the life of our nation. You can fairly judge the character of society by how it treats the weak, the vulnerable, the most easily forgotten. Our own country, at its best, strives to be compassionate, and this isn't easy. Compassion is not merely a vague feeling of empathy, it is a demanding virtue. It involves action and effort, and deep conviction - a conviction as old as Scripture and present at the founding of our country. We believe that everyone has a place and a purpose in this world, that every life matters, that no insignificant person was ever born.

 -- President George W. Bush, in the 2004 Commencement Address at Concordia University Wisconsin

BEAUTY OUT OF ASHES

The opening words of Isaiah 61 promise that God will bring beauty into broken lives.  He will give beauty in exchange for ashes. God will do this, the prophet tells us, that these very people might be called trees of righteousness, "a planting of the Lord" for His glory.

Those are comforting words for those pressed with limitations, those who know a daily struggle with profound personal obstacles.  I know people like this.  Broken men and women who have been given beauty for ashes; radiant believers who heighten God's reputation in a cynical world.

At a recent concert I watched members of a deaf choir stand up front to "sign" as the worship choir sang.  The faces of those who were signing the words beamed with joy.  You could tell they really believed the words of those hymns, even though they couldn't hear the sounds or the phrasing or the music. I tried to be cool and not cry.  But I just couldn't stop the flow of tears.  I was deeply moved.

Sometime later I felt the same surge of emotion when I listened to the testimony of a man named David Ring.  David is severely disabled with cerebral palsy and you have to listen intently to catch what he's saying.  But in a thick, guttural voice, he spoke of the priority of giving thanks.  His thoughts were threaded with Scripture, saturated with peace and joy. Once again, my tears fell freely.  Nor did I feel foolish or ashamed for crying.

Later on, however, I asked myself why I'd been so moved.  I genuinely examined my motive.  Was it pity?  Was I simply feeling sorry for those people because of their disabilities? No, I don't think so.  I think I was responding to Isaiah's theme… it was the beauty.  It was the lovely character, a right response, a solid witness, all born out of brokenness.  Out of what could have been bitter ashes, God gave these people something more.  They had become the planting of the Lord "for His splendor."

So the next time you find yourself deeply moved by the joyful perseverance of a Christian with a disability, thank the Lord for the grace that brings beauty out of ashes.

-- Joni Earkeckson Tada in “Glorious Intruder”

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STANDING UP

NOTE: On some calendars this Sunday, January 20, is referred to as "Sanctity of Human Life Sunday," and on other calendars it is called "Human Relations Day." This coming Monday, January 21, in addition to being Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, and the US Presidential Inauguration, it  is also the birthday of our son, Dustin. As I was thinking about all of that, I recalled something I had shared here before that I felt worth repeating at this time.

 

STANDING UP

As a few of you know, our son, Dustin, in whose memory this SOUND BITES Ministry™ was founded in 1999, had many disabilities, both physical and cognitive. He could not walk on his own, he could not feed himself, and he could not talk. But he made a difference in the lives of many, many people before his death in 1998. And he continues to do so today in a variety of ways, including SOUND BITES.

A number of years ago one of our nephews was part of the audience at his high school in a classroom debate on abortion. A panelist stated, "If you knew your child was never going to be able to walk or speak, and would only live 15 or 16 years, you'd want to have an abortion." Someone else on the panel replied with a generic rebuttal and then my nephew politely raised his hand.

In relating the story to me, he wrote, "I told him that he had perfectly described my cousin. I told him my cousin, Dustin, had never walked, never spoken, and died when he was 16. I told him I was very insulted that he had argued that my cousin, and the world, would have been better off if my aunt had killed him before he was born… People just assume that no one really knows a person like Dustin, they treat them like figments of our imagination, and they argue that they are worthless. But as soon as someone comes along who knew someone like, or is like Dustin, they seem to have nothing to say."

Thanks to my nephew for standing up for his cousin, who couldn't stand on his own. As my sister-in-law wrote afterward, "And the ripples from Dustin's life go on and on..." 

-- Rev. David T. Wilkinson


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SURPRISED BY THE ABILITIES

When we let go of our usual categories and the productivity-oriented measuring systems so common in our culture, we can be surprised by the abilities that people with developmental disabilities often reveal - their keen sensitivity to interpersonal situations, the depth of their empathy, their willingness to overlook and to forgive, their faithfulness, their acceptance of difference, their originality, their capacity to be present and to cut through pretense, their resilience, the creativity of what they produce, and their gift for celebration.
-- From More Than Inclusion, L'Arche Canada, 2005

 
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UNIQUE AND SPECIAL

"You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you." (Isaiah 43:4)

As I sat watching the handicapped preschoolers gather pumpkins, I felt saddened that my own three-year-old was among them. Why had I bothered to bring him? Mentally and physically handicapped, he could really only observe the fun around him. My hope for a meaningful life for Thomas was at an all-time low.

I talked about my feelings with another mother who was also watching. She opened my eyes to something. "Like you," she said, "I almost didn't bring Kristen today. She is unaware of her surroundings and couldn't possibly enjoy the activities. But then," she continued, "I realized while she may not get anything out of this experience, perhaps someone will see Kristen and be touched by her."

In her words, I saw a ray of hope, a glimpse of meaning in Thomas' life. Perhaps by seeing him participate in his limited way, others would see Thomas not as "handicapped" but as a valuable member of God's family, unique and special in God's sight, loved by those around him, with much to offer regardless of his limitations.

I smiled as I scooped Thomas up, and we hurried into the field in search of pumpkins.

-- Sharon P. Stanley in The Upper Room, November 30, 1990


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