Years ago I was a summer chaplain in training in an institution for the intellectually disabled in Taunton, Mass. One of my fellow chaplains, Lenny, was assigned to the youth wards while I ministered to the older adult unit. Lenny had in his care both intellectually disabled youth and those with Cerebral Palsy. Kevin's case seemed severe in that both his movement and his speech were greatly effected. After a young woman patient said Kevin was very smart, Lenny took him on for a case study which meant he would spend especially long periods of time with him to open a space for Kevin to experience care and connection.
As Lenny began to listen and learned to hear through Kevin's labored speech he was shocked to discover that Kevin had the Pre-Vatican Two Missal memorized and was liturgically very astute. It seems before Kevin was institutionalized, the only book he had was this missal. He had taught himself to read and since it was all he had, he memorized it. Beyond this he integrated its rubrics, understood the technical aspects of worship, the rules that held liturgy together to create a cogent flow. There was a miracle or healing of sorts here. The healing was Lenny's and mine by extension. Our clouded eyes which saw physical and mental limitations as a malformation, a "less than" quality gave way to a wonder at the life all God's creation longs to embrace, to feel strong and capable enough to enjoy life. Perhaps it was Kevin's wonderful drooling laugh that got us past ourselves.
In Luke's gospel, Jesus had descended from the Mount of the Transfiguration where the wonder of his full life peered outward upon three of his disciples. What greets him is his usual healing ministry and his disciples' limits in taking it on in his absence. Jesus comments on the limit to their faith and its effect on limiting healing. He heals where they could not. He shares the growing revelation that he will soon suffer.
"Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands." But they did not understand this saying; its meaning was concealed from them, so that they could not perceive it. And they were afraid to ask him about this saying. An argument arose among them as to which one of them was the greatest. Luke 9:44-46
Clearly the Gospelor has reflected back on this moment and how the disciples missed what was put before them. Having healed where the disciples could not and shared the startling revelation perhaps gained on the mountain that Jesus was to suffer, They go back to the infinitely mundane, which of them is greatest. It is as if there is a spiritual speech impediment here, not so much in the speaking as in the comprehension. They do not seem to know how to listen or to go outside themselves to seek understanding.
A child is then placed before them. Here is one viewed as limited, the domain of women, not individually valued as distinct and of adult notice. Jesus then says, "Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me; for the least among all of you is the greatest." (Luke 9:48)
Without missing a beat, they go on to complain that someone outside their in group is healing in Jesus name. They have forbidden it. To which Jesus responds, "Who ever is not against us is for us."
Looking back they must have been surprised at themselves. All these moments to listen and hear obviously missed. Their stations all greedily defined and their ability to recognize the profound change that was afoot. Spiritual authority is present for those who have enough faith to seek it and act within it, even outside the core group. The powerless imagination of a child, so often not noticed as open to real faith and growth, is here elevated over grown men.
Looking back they must have been surprised at themselves. All these moments to listen and hear obviously missed. Their stations all greedily defined and their ability to recognize the profound change that was afoot. Spiritual authority is present for those who have enough faith to seek it and act within it, even outside the core group. The powerless imagination of a child, so often not noticed as open to real faith and growth, is here elevated over grown men.
Faith, it seems, is a combination of a willing openness to listen and then listen deeper; to get beyond our ego limitations by slowing enough to take God's presence in, especially among those of limited station and power, for both the "weaker ones" and the mature. We never know who will heal whom or where we are blind and do not see.
Kevin was left so far outside most people's notice, powerless such that he was institutionalized. Yet he taught both Lenny, and me by extension, much. God was at work and only those who could stop and listen would ever know. His faith pulled the cloud from my eyes.
Today is a good day to slow down somewhere and just listen. Someone's story may be your healing, my healing.
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