Some questions about my book

A new friend, Dr. Steve Grcevich, recently asked me some questions about what I say in the book. Following (in bold) are my responses. I like that he makes me think.

You discussed your experience when your daughter (Jessica) was diagnosed with a chromosomal abnormality. How has your experience as Jessica’s father impacted your spiritual development? How has having Jessica impacted your family’s church participation and spiritual development? Is there any advice you’d offer to other couples after raising a child with disabilities?

   I often tell people that Jessica has had an earth-shaking impact on me, Mary, and our children. Our appreciation for the rich grace of the Gospel deepened significantly and our faith in Christ (that is trusting, leaning heavily upon and surrendering to the goodness of God for us) was experienced at a whole new level. Jessica was born while we were serving on Young Life staff, reaching out to high school kids in Buffalo, N.Y. I was working on the presumption that God was lucky to have me “on His team.” Without realizing it, my life of faith was based largely on being good and pleasing God. Then . . . our first child is born with profound disabilities . . . and life was never the same.

   Looking back, Mary and I went into a free fall spiritually. “How could God do this to us?” we asked without necessarily saying it out loud. But over the years, her quiet – indeed wordless – life spoke volumes to us about trusting God more fully. I wrote about her continuing impact recently here: https://mikebeates.wordpress.com/2012/07/15/silent-impact/

  As far as church went, our church at the time (The Wesleyan Church of Hamburg) was a wonderful community – despite some people asking awkward questions like “Have you confessed the sinned that lead to this tragic situation?” Since then, as we moved from Buffalo to Philadelphia (Lansdale Presbyterian Church), and then to Florida (with a couple of churches over 20-something years), Jessica’s participation in our family life determined in strong ways where we would worship. I remember visiting a church when we dropped her off in her over-sized “stroller chair” the children’s worker asked, “You’re not leaving her with us, are you?” Needless to say, we did not go back. But then at another church, someone approached us, got down on a knee and introduced herself to Jessica, and volunteered to take her to a children’s program – we had a found a church home!

    So I would give this advice to young families with children who live with disability: Ask God to lead you to an accepting church. When you visit a church, offer whatever simple instructions might be necessary to care for your child in the nursery or Children’s program and see how they respond. Are the teachable and accepting? Do they show the love of Christ to your child as much as to you? Are they willing to find ways to accommodate your family and enfold you into the congregational life? If so, thank God and settle in. Your child will have a ministry of “presence” that is hard to quantify

In the book, you state that “the church needs to reach out more effectively to those who live with disabilities.” What are some strategies you’d recommend to congregations who want to pursue kids and adults living with disabilities with no connection to a church? Since you’ve provided a “plausible apologetic,” can you suggest a plausible methodology?

THIS is a tough question. I have told people that my book, Disability and the Gospel, is a book that seeks to address “Why” a church should embrace those who live with disability. Many others have addressed pragmatic issues in helpful “how to” books – and they are better than I could write. But a simple answer may be this: Every family with disability is unique in their needs and in the gifts they bring. If a church seeks to enter this vital area of ministry, they should start with those whom God brings to them. Learn ways to help. Never say, “Call us if we can help.” Rather, suggest ways to help – in fact, better yet, tell a family “We will come over on such-and-such a day. Then we can learn how we might be able to serve you and walk with you.” Show up! Learn as you walk together. Then God will expand your reach. As soon as families learn they are welcome and your church will take a risk, learn and grow, more and more families will come. And your church will be blessed!

I liked your statement that “A successful measure of disability effectiveness in a local church would be that it would not need to have a disability ministry.” How might that be accomplished?

  A sub-text of my thesis in the book is that we are all broken people. As we embrace that idea, as we see ourselves as “disabled” (whether spiritually, emotionally, or more outwardly physically), we can better walk with those who live more openly with disability. When this happens, brokenness becomes the norm, not the exception.

     Now, I also recognize that some situations require special accommodation. I was speaking with someone recently who said a family in their church was struggling with how to enfold a family whose autistic child was so disruptive that the entire worshiping body was distracted. I remember times when my Jessica would become upset, cry, even scream, at times when it was necessary to find another setting for her (at least for a while). We knew we were in the right church when brothers and sisters in Christ would follow us out of the sanctuary and offer to stroll with her so we could return to and benefit from worship.

     Such situations will always require special accommodation – we treat some weaker members with special modesty and care (see Paul’s description in 1 Corinthians 12). But as much as possible, we seek to bring all people into worship, under the means of grace of preaching and sacrament – God will speak to all in ways only the Holy Spirit will know.

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Ascending! (Part 2)

I realize that some weeks ago I posted the first of several homilies from our week at the Lift Disability Network “Breakaway” retreat. Following is the second of these homilies.

“Distress” (Psalms 120, 123, 126, 129, 132)

I have several walking sticks this week as visual aids. The one I hold today is an old cane from the 19th century — it looks normal, but when you twist the top and pull it apart, . . . the top doubles as a dagger for danger to be used in moments of distress.

We live in a world of lying lips – the world is telling us that we are o.k., we deserve it, we can overcome, we can achieve, we can find the strength, dig deep, work hard, and you can do it. I call this “Nike Theology” – “Just do it.” While it might be appropriate in some realms of athletic competition – at the end of the day – in the realm of the pilgrim life of faith, this is a dangerous lie that speaks against faith in God who alone is able to meet our needs.

But let’s also admit that there are many times, facing disability, when the distress of life can overwhelm. We encounter people who can be patronizing and pitying in ways that demean and dehumanize us or our loved one. There are the seemingly endless demands of care, fragility, and then dump on top of that the bureaucratic nature of finding help. It can become overwhelming.

David and the other psalm writers knew this feeling too. Look at these psalms:

“In my distress I called to the Lord” 120:1 – he is distressed. It is real. Too often Christians have this tendency to avoid reality – “Hey Praise the Lord!” And while we are called to praise Him in all circumstances, it is another thing altogether to be “happy” in our circumstances isn’t it? He confesses his distress, and we can too.

Then he says, “Woe to me, that I sojourn in Meshech, that I dwell among the tents of Kedar! Too long have I had my dwelling among those who hate peace.” 120:5-6 – here he is expressing woe or “oi vey” has the Yiddish says. Meshech and Kedar are foreign lands to the north and the south. He is saying too long has he dwelt where he is not wanted, where he is an alien. This too expresses the Christian pilgrim experience of being aliens and strangers in this world. But let’s admit it, too often we feel like aliens and strangers – sadly sometimes even in the church, right?

So when we feel that alienation, that subtle rejection, again we can relate with the psalmist in 123 when he says, repeatedly, “Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy upon us, for we have had more than enough of contempt. Our soul has had more than enough of the scorn of those who are at ease, of the contempt of the proud” (123:3-4). This has been echoed down through the centuries as Christians have said together, “Kyrie eleison, Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison” – “Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy!”

This cry is not admitting defeat – but it is admitting distress and our inability to manage or change our circumstances. It’s admitting we are in over our heads. We can’t climb this mountain alone on our own strength. Admitting our distress is the first step toward dependence and deliverance.

Let me as you this: When do we learn the most? In hardship. Where are we when we learn the most? In distress and deprivation. And most important, where does God most often seem to “show up”? Over and over in the stories of Scripture, He shows up when people find themselves in the wilderness. Without hope and without a way out. In fact this is where the Land of the Bible is a metaphor for life.

In the land of the Bible, where there was the most fertility and comfort (the northwestern area of Jezreel), there also was the most apostasy, the most abandonment of faith in God. Conversely, in the southeastern region, where there was the least fertility, the most deprivation, God was most likely to visit His people and faith was built up and displayed in the midst of great need and desperation.

You see one of the great assumptions about modern the world is that we have CONTROL over everything. And we are given the illusion that this is true. Thermostats, microwaves, automobiles that respond to our every whim. This is such an unspoken assumption that we talk about people for whom life is “spinning out of control.” But when you buy this idea that you are supposed to be in control of all the circumstances surrounding your life, when things happen “out of your control” you start to “lose it.” Thus, America has 5% of the world’s population and 98% of the world’s therapists – when you “loose” control” you need help!

Well the same tendency has snuck into Christian faith in the West as well. “We got this – all we need is a little help.” Jesus is my friend and he helps me along the way. I’m not so bad – heck I’m a lot better than all those people we hear about in the news. I haven’t killed anyone lately.

The problem is we think way too highly of ourselves. In fact, and let me say this as gently as I can, we are much worse than we think we are. Here it is friends: The Good News of the Gospel presumes that there is bad news (otherwise, it wouldn’t be “good” news, right? It would just be “news”). The bad news is we just don’t need a little help from our friends. We aren’t in a situation where a self-improvement program is going to solve our problem. The bad news is we are sinful and profoundly broken – every one of us. Compounding this problem is that God is Holy and there is alienation between us because of our sin. In fact, despite our American “can do” mentality, we can’t do this. We are, as the Scriptures say, “dead” in our trespasses and sins. Dead people cannot help themselves.

C.S. Lewis got this when he said: “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”

We are in distress due to sin. Best Bible story of this: Luke 5 about the paralytic. His friends knew their paralyzed buddy was in bad shape, but in reality, they had no idea how bad. They thought they knew what he needed – we need to get him in front of Jesus to get healed. But look what happens – they take the roof apart, lower him in, there he is in front of Jesus, everybody is looking for a miracle, and Jesus says, “Your sins are forgiven.”  Really!?! I mean, c’mon, how much trouble can a guy get into lying on a mat?

But listen friends, Jesus knew the distress this man faced, while the world saw it as physical disability, Jesus saw the spiritual alienation from God. The superficial need was physical healing, The deeply profound real need was forgiveness for sin. This was the trouble he faced. But remember this too – he could no more make himself right with God than you or I. It was God who reach down to him in Christ and said, “Your sins are forgiven” that changed everything for him – not just for a few more days, months or years on this earth, but for eternity!

Do you realize that your greatest need is not some physical disability – however profound and frightening and debilitating it might be? Nor is it an emotional brokenness, or a psychological weakness. Your greatest need – the deepest distress you face – my greatest need is that you and I are broken and sinful and unable to do anything about it. But coming to the end of yourself can be the beginning of new life. You see the opposite of faith is not doubt. The opposite of faith is self-reliance, believing that you are really “OK.”

But the Good News of the Gospel is that when we come to the end of ourselves and self-reliance, then God can begin to reshape us, remake us into something new. That surrender, that moving from distress to dependence on another who will do for us what we cannot do for ourselves, we will talk about in the next homily.

Drawn to the Light (A Sermon for Immanuel PCA DeLand, Sept. 2, 12)

A Sermon for Immanuel Presbyterian Church

Sept. 2, 2012 — Rev. Michael S. Beates — “Drawn to the Light” (John 9)

And the audio file  is located here: http://www.immanuelpca.com/media.php?pageID=5

Introduction

Jesus has just had a huge theological smack down of sorts with the Pharisees where Jesus had declared them children of the devil and Himself as nothing less than the “Great I AM” – the religious people at the end of John 8 had picked up stones to stone Him for blasphemy. So this encounter in chapter 9 comes on the heels of that. Though John 8 says he hid himself and left the Temple area, we can assume Jesus is still in and around Jerusalem when, as he is going along, he sees this blind man.

Now it’s helpful to remember that John organizes his book around seven signs of Jesus (he says there were many more, but seven is symbolic of perfection). For instance, the wedding at Cana, it says, was the first sign. Also, the raising of Lazarus is the final (7^th) sign. This account of the blind man is the 6^th of 7 signs in John – not miracles (though some translations call them “miraculous signs”). Indeed they were miraculous, but the text simply calls them signs – pointing each one in their own unique way to some aspect of Jesus’ divinity.

In this passage Jesus will, as He often does, model for us what it means to be human, and also display for us His divinity. We have much to learn from both.

1, See disabilities (v. 1)

“As He was going along, He saw a man born blind.” Don’t miss the first verb here – Jesus saw the man. The story does not begin with the disciples asking Jesus a crucial question. It begins with Jesus seeing the man born blind. And the disciples saw that Jesus saw him.

We don’t like to see disability so often do we? We have been culturally conditioned in many ways to avoid seeing, and if you do see, to ignore that which is broken in humanity. I talk a bit elsewhere about why this is – but suffice it to say, brokenness makes us uncomfortable and culturally we have done a masterful job of hiding those with disabilities, lest they gain our attention and disturb us or disrupt our well controlled, carefully planned lives. Think about the people on the road between Jericho and Jerusalem in Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan – they saw, but did not want to “see” the needy and broken one right before them. We do the same, don’t we? We try to avoid making eye contact,  even as we must pass close by.

Children see. And they are not yet so inhibited (or perhaps well-conditioned) as we are, so sometimes they ask, “What wrong with him or her?” And a parent, in embarrassment, says something to the effect of, “Hush now, that’s not polite.”

But don’t miss the importance here. Jesus noticed this man. Jesus sees our broken neediness too. Our pain and loss and difficulty are not invisible to Him as they often are to our neighbors. Even when we try to hide our neediness, Jesus sees and knows our most profound wounds.

If we are to be like Jesus, sometimes, we need merely to open our eyes to see what is in front of us, but sometimes, we need, like Jesus, to see with intention, to look for, in order to see those who live with hurt and pain – but they are all around us. Some, like this man, bear conditions from birth – or from conception. Others inherit a condition that may manifest itself much later; still others, like our friend Joni Tada suffer a tragic and unalterable accident that instantly changes everything. But the point is: we need to see it. Then, . . . second,

2. Approach Disabilities (v. 2)

We are not given all the details here – we know in other places, the disciples did not want Jesus to be bothered by undesirable people – they had places to go and things to do. But I think in this case, when Jesus saw the man, He must have stopped, perhaps, if I can extrapolate, even turned aside and approached the man. I think we can say this because the disciples asked a probing question – something they did not do so often. When they observe Him “seeing” the man, probably slowing down, turning aside from His path, they only became engaged because Jesus was already engaged. Perhaps Jesus was talking with him, we don’t know – but the important thing is Jesus approached the blind man.

Jesus models for us what it means to be human – we neglect to notice but He sees. We tend to avoid, but He approaches. Is it a scary thing to do? To turn aside from our plans, to engage with someone in need? Certainly. Is it an inconvenient thing to do? Always. Is it risky? Perhaps. Costly? Probably. We are always uncomfortable when we move away from comfort toward need. But is it the human thing to do? Absolutely! And this is how Jesus is a model for us. See disability, approach disability, and as I have said before here, as we do so, we will begin to realize that we see a lot of ourselves in them! We are them!

3. See God’s purposes (v. 2-3)

So the disciples approach with Jesus and ask what they thought was the right question, the natural question. Something was wrong, so there must be a cause for what happened. This is so natural – and even though Jesus gives us an amazing insight into the heart of God in this passage, so many of us are stuck in the same mentality of the disciples. “God” we ask, “if this happened, and it’s obviously not good and right, then someone or something must have done something wrong to cause this, right?” We want to know the cause. Whose fault is it? Who’s to blame? And admittedly, sometimes there is a clear cause. Joni dove recklessly into shallow water at low tide. Not a sinful action, but a direct cause all the same. But other times, like a man born blind, it is not so simple or evident.

I remember a dear, devout, and yes, rather stupid Christian lady once asking Mary and me, “Have you confessed the sin that led to your daughter’s condition?”  And I thought to myself, “Well, . . . I’m about to have a sin to confess when I am done taking care of you!”

But Jesus’ response is shocking. Rather than identifying a human cause for this man’s life long disability, Jesus says the explanation is not in some past cause or some particular sin, but the explanation laid in the future purposes of God.

So Jesus attributes this to God. Before we unpack that, let’s discuss for a minute a false dilemma that is still a common tactic of skeptics and ill-informed people to explain God’s part in such things. The construct is like this: Since bad things happen, since disability exists, then there are two options regarding God. First, God is all powerful, but since He did not stop this, we must conclude He is a heartless God who does not care. Or second, God is good, but not all powerful, otherwise, He would intervene and change things for us. This is an ancient philosophical construct, still used and in print in Harold Kushner’s book When Bad Things Happen to Good People.

He lays out these two options and comes down on the side of the latter. Though God is creator, and though He is good, Kushner says, God must not be all powerful or He would change things. God is in heaven rooting for us, hoping we make, and sorry that He cannot help. It is a book of despair quite frankly.

But friends, this is a false dilemma. There is in fact a third way, a tertium quid. The Scriptures affirm over and over again that God is great (all powerful) and He is good (perfectly and infinitely so). Therefore, If He does not intervene, there must be another explanation. And that is what Jesus gives us here. Neither this man, nor his parents sinned. Neither is God caught on the horns of a false dilemma. This man was born blind so the works of God might be displayed in him.

Now let’s not make another common mistake at this point. Too many well intentioned believers will say, “See, God is so powerful, He can even redeem life-long suffering.” But this can be misunderstood to mean that God is responding to the suffering, removing what was not His intention in the first place. I think some people want to get God off the hook as it were.

Hear me, . . . God does not want to get off the hook – He wants glory! Remember Exodus 4, where Moses thought he had God beat – “I’m not your man – I can’t talk well. “I am slow of tongue and speech.” God says, “Who made man’s mouth? Who makes him mute or deaf, gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I the Lord?” God does not merely respond to what we think are accidents, He creates with intentionality – and His intention is His glory. Jesus didn’t just stumble across this blind man and say, “Oops, we better fix this.” God already knows all things. There are no surprises in His mind. There are surprises for us, no doubt. In fact in our day surrounded by comfort and every possible safe guard, we have been sold this myth of control, so we are always surprised when confronted by suffering and loss. God is not. In His sovereign goodness, He walks with us through the valley of the shadow of death – He does not, most often, whisk us out of harm’s way. He accompanies us into it, for His purpose: His glory!

We often think we know what the remedy needs to be. Remember the paralytic lowered through the roof? His friends thought they knew what he needed – to walk of course! But the primary need of this paralyzed man, the primary need we all share, is not physical wholeness or well-being – as good and enjoyable and as desirable as it is. In this Fallen World, our most profound need is spiritual rebirth and along with it, the healing of spiritual blindness so that we might see.

4. See the light (vv. 4-7)

So Jesus does not merely encounter the blindness and heal it – He planned the blindness for His purpose. Now, let’s be honest, in this man’s case, the purpose included healing to display God’s work, which we will see in a minute. It is not, in God’s infinite wisdom, always so. Paul prayed three times for deliverance, but God was pleased to allow a different display of His purpose in Paul, and often also in us. When Jesus healed a lame man at the pool of Bethesda, He left many others without healing. So the principle is this: our suffering, however it turns out, has meaning only as we cling to God’s purposes for us. And we see this purpose in the following verses.  God’s purpose was that people would see the Light of the World in Jesus.

Ontology precedes axiology – that is “being precedes doing.” Who we are precedes what we do. In this way, though Jesus brings bread, first, He IS the bread of Life. Though He also brings light to blindness, first, He IS the Light of the World. God’s purpose was to show that His Son is the light we all need in the midst of our spiritual blindness.

There are several other sermons in between the healing and what follows, but for my purposes, let’s jump down to consider the end of this story – to see God’s ultimate purpose in this encounter with Jesus. How do we respond to this story? How does this encounter with Jesus speak to our lives? We see it at the end.

5. Embrace God’s purpose to worship the light of the world vv. 24-38

Notice here (in v. 34), the blind man has been thrown out by the religious professional who thought they knew God and His works. And don’t miss the detail here in v. 35. Jesus heard the man had been thrown out and He found him. Even after the healing, even after the display of His glory, still Jesus sought the man and found him. Why, so He could comfort the man who now sees? No, so the man could worship Jesus. Don’t miss this! The man asks who the Son of Man is so that he might believe (that is trust in) Him, Jesus says, “You have seen Him, He is speaking to you.” And the man bowed down and worshiped – and Jesus received his worship!

I am reminded here of 2 Cor. 4 – God made light shine in the darkness of our hearts so that we can see the light of the glory of the Gospel in the face of Christ! And so that we might worship Him! Even after God heals your spiritual blindness, still He seeks you, finds you so that you worship Him.

A Tolkien allusion? If I must: as the company departed the forest realm of Lorien, Lady Galadriel gave each a gift. To Frodo she gave a phial, a “star glass” Sam called it. “‘In this phial,’ she said, ‘is caught the light of Earendil’s star, . . . . It will shine still brighter when night is about you. May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.’” Indeed, Jesus is a light, THE Light, for us “in dark places when all other lights go out” even after we have been found by Him – sometimes especially after we have been found by Him! So, like the blind man, with new eyes to see, so we, with spiritual eyes open, fall down and worship the One who not only gives us light, but the One who IS the Light of the world. I don’t know what darkness surrounds you at the moment, or what past darkness you have passed through, nor certainly what darkness awaits. But this I know: Jesus is the light of the world, and His light will continue to shine in our darkness.

May God give us enlightenment to understand, spiritual and physical eyes to see disabilities, the courage to approach disabilities, and the grace to see God’s purpose and to live that we might worship Jesus, the Light of the World.