There is more to Christmas than lights and shopping. Christmas is about people, including people we don't think about very often, hidden in the corners of the world we call home.
It was Friday morning and we were there for the Christmas program. Then, on Sunday afternoon, we went back for the church service. We gave 93 large print hospital testaments to the patients and 127 small white Medical Testaments to the staff and volunteers.
The nature and purpose of this state hospital facility is to care for severely developmentally disabled adults that our society prefers remains out of sight. None of the patients or "clients" of the facility are able to function outside the fences; most will never leave the grounds but will spend their lives there. Most of them will never read, write, or speak intelligibly. Many will never leave their beds. All will challenge you to try to understand the purpose of God in allowing such people to exist. And you will wonder and ponder and cry a bit.
Some 25 years ago we first wrestled with the issue of why we should bother placing scriptures in the hands of these people. I remember sitting around the table as we finally concluded that we would give them our small college testaments and try to arrange to give the nursing staff testaments as well.
Today, one of the ladies extended her arms and wanted to hug me. Her nose was running all over her face, and my flesh began to crawl a bit. So I did the only thing possible in the circumstances, I gave her a great big hug and said "God bless you" as I once again learned that God's blessings come in all kinds of packages. It is not the fancy wrapping paper that determines the value of the gift inside.
After doing this for so many years, I never drive into those gates without asking myself what in the world God is doing in allowing these people (multiplied by millions upon millions more around the world) to live their lives under such circumstances. I don't have a lot of answers, but I do have some Bibles and Testaments. And, when I see them bringing their testaments to church services, and see the volunteer staff reading to them from our scriptures, I'm glad I'm able to do what we can do to make their lives a bit brighter. A friend of mine is the Protestant Chaplain at the facility and often baptizes people who want to be baptized. He doesn't put theological hurdles in their way and ask them if they fully understand chapter 6 of the Book of Romans. Whether their I.Q. is 65 or 45 or 25, whether they can walk or crawl, or can't get out of bed, if they tell him they love Jesus and want to be baptized, he won't keep them from the pool. He had to make the same decision that we did. And we both decided that we would let God be the final answer as to how you look inside peoples hearts.
All I can tell you is that some of those folks know Jesus and belong to him, and I don't know how to tell the difference sometimes. Of all the plaques and certificates I have hanging on walls or stuffed in boxes, there are several that my family finds a bit strange. One is a drinking glass with 3 small flags and plastic flowers sitting on my computer case. It came from a medicated patient locked in a facility who came running up to me as we were leaving a distribution. It was her gift of thanks for the scriptures we brought. Another is a Cap and a Medallion tied to a bright red, white and blue ribbon that both have the name of this facility emblazoned across them. To most of the world, these are places to avoid and people to ignore -but somehow I feel that Jesus would be quite at home with these people if he visited us.
Of course, the truth is that He is and He does. Some of the people wear football helmets to prevent injury when they fall, others are hydro-cephalic and no helmet would fit. Some have twisted limbs, maybe no limbs if you looked closely. Others moan, groan and yell. But, then one stands behind a microphone and sings "Jesus Loves Me." Another "testifies" about the goodness of God (boy, that one gets to you). Another one thanks Jesus for saving them. And, when they leave, these people who are the rejects of society and hidden away where no one will see them, they ask for a copy of the New Testament. I slip it into their hands which are often bent and twisted, and pray that God's Holy Spirit will become their Comforter in this life.
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