Month: August 2020

It was a day when winter was trying to be pushed out by the warmer weather of an early Spring. We had arrived at church in time to get settled in our usual seats. The music of praise and worship swelled, boasting voices singing to an audience of One. Each carrying parts of their wounded or joyous hearts to present to God as a sacrifice of praise. Sitting in church surrounded by those whom God has sent to this body, all of a sudden, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled onto my blouse. I was overwhelmed with the goodness of God and the miraculous work he was doing at Christ First Church which had started years before prior to its even being planted.  

My church caters to those whom other churches time and again have shown they don’t want or can’t take the time to minister to. Perhaps they don’t look far enough into the community to recognize the need even being there. It’s easy to miss or ignore the people on the fringes. Their voices have been silenced by our idea of what acceptable humanity looks like. Often, these are viewed as the throw-aways. The weak. The unlovely. Those who can be difficult to love. Those who bring odd noises and obsessive movements. Those whose dress is unexpected or messy. Those who may bring an unpleasant odor. Those who may not understand “proper etiquette” at church. Those who talk loudly or who rock back and forth for seemingly no reason. Sometimes their brokenness is difficult to face. What we fail to want to admit is that we are all broken, theirs is just more visible. 

Sitting among the pews is my son. He has Down syndrome. Others have autism. There are some with sensory issues who struggle to participate. Some have difficulty focusing. Still others have seizure disorders. Some are in wheelchairs. There are others who are challenged with mental health issues.  

It is these voices that are raised in song. It is these souls that are embraced and loved well. It is these who worship together sprinkled among the whole congregation.  

Belonging. 

It was an ordinary Sunday.

It’s graduation season. Except this year looks a bit different than season’s past. Even so, my son was very excited to try on his cap and gown after we made our way through the school car line to pick it up having to adhere to social distancing recommendations. Both of us have worked hard to make this happen. I have advocated tirelessly for services and supports for his success. It’s difficult to tell how much George understands the consequences of graduating from high school. I’m sure he senses a change. I proudly posted this picture on Facebook and I was struck by a comment that was made. A friend stated that the cap and gown “fit him well”. I thought about that comment rolling it over in my mind for several days considering all aspects and perspectives of it. Physically the cap and gown absolutely fit him well. But, beyond the outward appearance, beneath the fabric, and below the cap is where the true fit can be found. George was molded and fitted for Christ long before his birth. He was created with and for a purpose. Down syndrome didn’t change that. 

A quote by J.C. Ryle brings to mind the extent of what clothing can truly represent. “Never is a man….rightly clothed till he puts on the Lord Jesus Christ”. Romans 13:14 states to “clothe yourself with the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ.” While caps and gowns represent the completion of 12 years of schoolwork and preparation for the future, “having on” the Lord Jesus Christ carries with it much further reaching ramifications extending to eternity. For George, graduation can be seen as a steppingstone on his ongoing gospel-sharing journey. 

None of us can predict how God will use us to impact others. George’s path has guided him to surprising places and offered unanticipated opportunities. He’s carried Jesus to AA meetings where he had been invited to offer a closing prayer. A prayer that influenced many men on their journey of recovery. Being clothed in Christ eliminates judgement. It’s filtered out leaving acceptance and love. 

Watching George walk across the stage in his cap and gown will most certainly bring a sense of pride to me. But knowing that he is clothed in Christ fills me with a sense of awe. 

It fits him well

These shoes have been worn well. They wrap around a pair of feet that have danced until steps could no longer be taken due to exhaustion. They’ve walked halls of schools and run to unknown places going exploring. They’ve jumped to the beat of music or to sink the ball in the basket for an impressive three pointer. These shoes are on feet that doctors predicted would be clumsy and slow. Feet belonging to a young man with Down syndrome for whom doctors and some teachers had low expectations. Indeed these feet were slower to learn to walk but they walked right on time for the race that this young man is running. 

What doctors failed to share about these feet was that they would walk to the alter in response to another’s pain and need for compassion and forgiveness. Or that they would intentionally walk across rooms to acknowledge others who struggle with mobility. Or that they would carry this young man to pulpits to pray. These feet have carried the gospel to those who feel unworthy or too far gone to be loved. 

Isaiah 52:7 tells us, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, Who proclaims peace, Who brings glad tidings of good things, Who proclaims salvation, Who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns’.”

Perhaps the feet who bring good news are not as you imagined. It is sad to miss the treasure inside because we ignore the package it comes in. The outside may appear disheveled or unkempt wearing mismatched clothing. The words we hear may be garbled or shared with a stutter. Perhaps we don’t give merit to the message because it is comprised of short, hesitantly spoken words or even communicated with gestures. Does the message hold less value because of the way in which it is delivered?

Jesus taught and lived inclusion. Accessibility is organic to the gospel message. To overlook or intentionally exclude those with disabilities from the church undermines foundational gospel truths.

I Corinthians 12:12-20 “12 There is one body, but it has many parts. But all its many parts make up one body. It is the same with Christ. 13 We were all baptized by one Holy Spirit. And so we are formed into one body. It didn’t matter whether we were Jews or Gentiles, slaves or free people. We were all given the same Spirit to drink. 14 So the body is not made up of just one part. It has many parts.15 Suppose the foot says, “I am not a hand. So I don’t belong to the body.” By saying this, it cannot stop being part of the body. 16 And suppose the ear says, “I am not an eye. So I don’t belong to the body.” By saying this, it cannot stop being part of the body. 17 If the whole body were an eye, how could it hear? If the whole body were an ear, how could it smell? 18 God has placed each part in the body just as he wanted it to be. 19 If all the parts were the same, how could there be a body? 20 As it is, there are many parts. But there is only one body.”

Demonstrating the profound beauty of the gospel can sometimes be seen from those we least expect wearing shoes that have been worn well as God’s instruments carrying the joy and hope of Jesus.