Do They Know?

  One Sunday, I greeted a mom and daughter. The girl had Down syndrome. The mom tried to get her to give me a thumbs up. She did, in her own way, by pointing her index finger upward instead of her thumb.

  The mom laughed and said, “That’s how she always does it. I don’t know why.”

  “Maybe she’s pointing to the one we need to thank for what’s good,” I said.

  “Thank you for saying that, because so many times I wonder if she knows about God. She hears about Jesus all the time at home, but I’ll never know what she’s thinking.”

  “I believe she knows. I’ve come to think that those we consider disabled might understand more about God than we do.”

I shared a story from years ago with the permission of the family.

I taught confirmation. It’s a sacrament when young people who were baptized as babies can decide if they wish to accept Jesus or not. They are basically joining the body of Christ officially. William was a young man with autism and developmental disabilities. He could not talk. He could, however, make sounds indicating if he was happy or not. His parents sent him to confirmation class with a toy that had buttons to push and knobs to turn. It made quiet little dings and tones, and he seemed content to sit and play. He had an adult helper who could remove him from the room if he became disruptive. I remember him leaving only once.

  Usually, William played until we got to the culmination of the lesson and the Holy Spirit moved in our hearts. At that point, he grew quiet and stared at the floor. We prayed, and when we said, “Amen,” I could sometimes see a tear slipping down his cheek. Afterward, he’d grin and trill happily. We’d do a fist bump together.

  At the end of the classes, William’s mother called me. “The pastor thinks that perhaps he should not be confirmed, since he can’t really make a profession of faith.”

  I told her what I’d witnessed. She commented, “We just don’t know if he understands.”

  “I would confirm him,” I said. “Tell the pastor to call me if he has doubts.”

  The pastor called. I recounted what I had observed and said, “the Apostle Paul said that Christ’s power is made perfect in our weakness. If that’s true, William might know Jesus better than we do. I hope he prays for us.”

  William was confirmed. He smiled and bumped fists with everyone that Sunday.

More than a decade after his confirmation, I asked his mom how he was doing.

 “My father had passed away,” she said. “I explained to William that his Papa had died. He looked at me and had a smile on his face. Thinking to myself that he hadn’t understood what I’d told him, I asked him why he smiled. He spelled out that Papa was in heaven with Jesus! Tears rolled down my face. William definitely knows more about faith than I do!!”

  Sometimes those with disabilities are pitied, but these children of God make us all better people by being part of our world. It’s a relief to know that intelligence and complete understanding are not a prerequisite for belonging to Jesus. Otherwise, could I qualify?

Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

(Mark 10:15 NIV)

Susan Boltz