"The Disabled Disciple"

Some of my reading lately has gotten me thinking about discipleship and what that looks like for a person who has a disability.  You know what?   I have come to the conclusion that, frankly, it doesn't look all that different than it does for anyone else!

Let's start with some common denominators... 

First, each of us is created in the image and likeness of God, our Creator.  In this fact, EACH life, EACH person finds his or her greatest and sure dignity.  

We are created unique, with variations of individual abilities.  Each of us has our strengths.  Each of us has our weaknesses-  in other words, we are all in one way or another disabled.  Some weaknesses, some fragility, are easier to disguise than others.  In fact, the definition the National Catholic Partnership on Disability (NCPD) gives for disability is "the normal and expected outcome of the risks and stresses of the living process"... huh. 

When a person is baptized and confirmed, we are each given the same Baptism in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, the same outpouring of the Holy Spirit, the same priestly, prophetic and kingly mission- the same mission to evangelize "to make disciples of all nations" [Matt. 28:19].  There are no conditions placed on these things- Jesus did not say "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit... unless you or they cannot walk, or see or read or...".

Let's think about this for just a minute... Jesus spent a sleepless night being interrogated, was beaten nearly to death, THEN given a large wooden beam to carry, which he was nailed to.  In a very real sense Jesus- GOD- was disabled.  What was he doing during this time?

He was the totally loving Son of the Father- and obedient to the Father's plan and will to his last breath. 

He was teaching- telling the women not to cry for him, but rather to look to their own hearts, and those of their children- even his cry of "My God my God why have you forsaken me" was not so much a cry of despair, as a reminder of ultimate hope and trust- referencing Psalm 22, which any Jew listening would immediately recognize.   

He was forgiving: both to those who were in the midst of enacting his cruel punishment, and extending mercy and hope to the repentant thief who was crucified next to him.  

He loved!  He gave himself totally, even his greatest treasure- his Mother-to us, and gave us to her.

In what seems to be his weakest moment, Jesus achieved redemption and salvation for us all, and through that moment came the greatest hope anyone can ask for- love, mercy, and eternal life. 

Were there certain things he was not "able" to do at that point?  Absolutely!  Among other things, I'd imagine Jesus was not running- or even walking, he would not have had breath enough to sing.  Yet, with everything he had, to his fullest capability, he loved the Father, he loved those around him, and continued his work.  This is something anyone can do, no matter the situation in which they find themselves- and no matter how much or little time he or she is given.  

You may have heard of the story of baby Shane Haley, who was born just about seven months ago. When he was prenatally diagnosed with anencephaly, his parents decided to make the most of their time together- forming a "bucket list" of places and people to visit while he was in utero, and sharing their experience and memories with their friends and family on social media.  Their witness reached further than they could ever have imagined, with nearly a million followers, and their story was featured on many mainstream, national news channels.  What was their witness?  That of a family who love one another, who recognized the beauty and life and dignity of their child, who had no guarantee of life outside his mother's womb.  His short life- which included baptism, has brought attention to this beauty and dignity for others in similar situations.  as the epitaph on his headstone attests, "there is no foot too small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world"  

We all need help along the way- companions, and cheerleaders and champions to help- and sometimes insist- that we grow to our fullest potential.  In this too Jesus is a model- he had his parents, his helper Simon, and faithful companions even on his journey to Golgotha.

In my work I have encountered individuals who witness to discipleship in such amazing ways- a man who is simply a radiant light of joy and faith.  He was a medical student before suffering a traumatic brain injury in a car accident that also killed his fiancee- and also had to work to regain mobility after being struck by a car just a few years ago.

I have listened to a young woman cantor at Mass, who a handful of years ago had difficulty drawing breath enough to speak.

I watched and listened as a young man who is blind, and on the Autism Spectrum, confidently walked up to the ambo and proclaimed the reading beautifully.

One group prayed with a participant who was was going in for surgery for cancer, and celebrated with her when the treatments were completed.

At our retreat last year, we had an incident wherein one of our participants, who was most likely a little over-tired and over stimulated, hit another- more than once.  In checking with the man who had gotten hit, he was most definitely shaken up, but quickly said he hoped the young woman (who acted out) was OK, and readily forgave her when she came over to him later and apologized.

Our lives are complicated, joyful and sometimes painful- and all of us have weaknesses, disabilities if you will.  What I hope you have seen here, is that there is SO MUCH to learn from those who cannot mask their fragility and disability, that they are called and desire to serve, and that they, and we, need companions on the journey of discipleship, to encourage each other in developing and sharing our gifts, and to walk alongside each other in our need.