My response to this journal article is, “Wow and
Amen!” I have recognized the importance of reaching out to those with special
needs, but I have never likened this population to an unreached people group. I
think it is accurate and sadly, this
analogy may spring people into action. I say “sadly” because ‘unreached
people-group’ tends to warrant a more drastic and urgent response than simply,
a ‘lost’ person; I find that sad. My favorite excerpt from this reading is as
follows:
“Aside from death,
perhaps humans fear nothing more than being confronted with disabilities—God’s living physical object
lessons of who we really are without Him (ill, weakened, wounded, unsure,
feeling incomplete, disabled). We fear
that this could happen to us or our loved ones.
I am told that the first thing most mothers do with their newborn
babies, once alone with their little ones, is to check to make sure all the
parts are there, that their baby is complete.
Our world, especially western culture, wants life to be in a tidy, cute
bundle of love and perfection. We are an
analgesic-driven culture, a beauty-is-skin-deep people, reaching for the
nearest pill or cosmetic surgeon to minister to our slightest fears of pain or
imperfection. And if we can’t do that,
we pump up our Facebook profile, put others down, or watch a reality show that
makes us seem better than ―that person.‖
Let’s just face up to
it. All of us as humans are broken. Apart from Christ we are simply not
whole. All our parts are not present. Even as Christ’s redeemed, we Christians are
still under reconstruction by the Lord Jesus.
Being confronted with such visible object lessons of brokenness,
weakness, and vulnerability causes us to marginalize such people, for we are
prone to marginalize our own brokenness and sin. The only remedy for sin is receiving the Good
News of Jesus Christ (Romans 3:23-26) in word and deed. The ensuing redemption (repair work) that
follows is in a lifelong commitment to Christ.”
I love that the author recognizes our habit of
marginalizing our own brokenness and sin. I think what is most threatening and
unnerving to people about those with special needs is that it’s raw. The
emotions are raw, the physical ailments/impairments are raw, and the reality
and honesty of the individual and the situation is raw; it’s not packaged,
cannot be ignored or contained, and there is no bow on top nor a way to fake
one. I believe that coming in contact with those with special needs shows us
our own brokenness, our imperfections, our selfish desires and pride, etc. For
example, how do I complain about my weight and how I look when I’m face to face
with someone whose external body is so badly deformed? How do I groan about my
job as a mother when I’m faced with someone who cannot have kids or has them,
but cannot play with them in the same manner because they’re confined to a
wheelchair or not who they used to be after a traumatic brain injury? How do I
struggle to find an emotional connection with a child who has autism and then
complain that my teenager won’t “talk” to me? The reality is that we are
uncomfortable with the imperfect and someone else’s more visible cognitive or
physical imperfections make us come face to face with our internal ones. We
become uncomfortable because we cannot fake compassion, we cannot fake the
current priorities of our life, and we cannot fake a close walk with God. We
want to see people as Jesus sees them, but either we fail to be able to see
them this way or we do not know how, and either of those two responses shows us
the reality of the depth of our walk.
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