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"Have Ye
Any That are Sick among You?"
by H. Wallace
Goddard
Some time ago
we were visiting a ward in a distant city. I do not remember the
subject of the lesson in the high priest group that day. But I clearly
remember a comment by a brother. He faulted some missionaries who
had been in their ward some years previous. Their misdeed had been
to go for the "easy baptisms" that now were a hardship to the ward.
"Our unit has been burdened by all the handicapped people that a
few overzealous missionaries brought into the Church. How can our
ward be expected to carry so many burdens? We had to back off those
missionaries."
My spiritual
hair stood on end. Something felt terribly wrong. Something whispered
within me that the "lame, or blind, or halt, or maimed, or leprous,
or . . . withered, or . . . deaf, or . . . afflicted in any manner"
are a great treasure in any ward or branch. The idea was so involuntary
and so foreign to logic that it had to be true.
The people
in our congregations with the biggest challenges may be our greatest
blessings. They are a constant reminder to us that Jesus always
favored the broken honesty of the humble to the polished assurance
of the prominent. He was "a friend of publicans and sinners."
Chris is hampered
by cerebral palsy but every Sunday he inspires ward members with
his cheer. For more than 30 years he has been confined to a wheel
chair---and he reads with difficulty--yet he blesses the sacrament.
His father lifts him to his knees. Chris slowly and deliberately
recites the prayer mostly from memory. He enunciates every syllable
the best he can. His father prompts him when he falters. Every heart
is touched by his valiance.
Chris also
leads the music in priesthood meeting. His father wheels him to
the front of the gathering. His arm will not move far, his hand
will not open fully, and many words are difficult for him to pronounce,
yet he leads us. His face radiates the joy that is only known by
the pure in heart. I am grateful to Chris for a weekly reminder
that joy is the natural fruit of service and goodness.
I remember
years ago visiting a rural Utah ward sacrament meeting with a friend.
The Sunday I visited happened to be the first Sunday that 12-year-old
Tommy passed the sacrament. He had the timidity and awkwardness
that is common in 12-year-olds. In addition he was completely blind.
He struggled along carrying the sacrament tray and feeling the ends
of the rows to get his bearings. He was not smooth or confident.
But he was sincere.
In our current
ward we have more people with disabilities than any ward to which
we have ever belonged. What a blessing! We are regularly blessed
by those who are "lame, or blind, or halt, or withered, or afflicted
in any manner"
One sweet sister
in our ward is completely blind. She lives alone and cares for a
horse, 3 dogs, 2 cats and 2 birds. She is a faithful visiting teaching
supervisor and stake missionary. She trains other blind people how
to adapt. I remember a Sunday when she was sitting at the end of
a row near us. When the Aaronic Priesthood bearer offered her the
sacrament, she did not respond. She could not see it. Then someone
noticed. A sensitive sister nearby came to her aid and drew her
hand to the tray. I resolved to be less blind to others' needs.
Due to the
wide array of physical and emotional disabilities in our ward, members
regularly reach out to guide, sustain, encourage and love each other.
Several give rides to the car-less. Some push wheelchairs. Many
offer heartfelt love. What a great tutorial in compassion! This
is an environment where Christlike charity can flourish. Each of
us in turn leans on that compassion as we make our own halting spiritual
progress.
My life is
blessed by many "disadvantaged" people I have known over the years.
George has very few good teeth, very little education, very little
reliable work, and only a hut to shelter him and his family, but
he stands ready to help anyone in need.
Clif may not
have much, but he provides his roof, his old truck, his tools, and
his time to any troubled traveler. Most importantly, he offers encouragement
even when he is despairing.
I have studied
the people to whom the words "thy sins are forgiven" have been spoken
in scripture. In some cases the recipients were sinners who yearned
to be better. We are not surprised that they were granted cleansing
for their repentance. But other recipients were lame or diseased.
It catches us by surprise that Jesus should offer spiritual healing
for physical maladies. What qualified them for the sweet blessing
of having their sins removed?
The man sick
of palsy is a case in point. When he sought healing, Jesus remitted
his sins. For the benefit of the disbelieving scribes, Jesus also
healed his palsy. But we ask, "What was it about the palsied man
that qualified him for a forgiveness of sins?" The answer is central
to the gospel message: He had humility.
Disability
often ministers to our humility. And humility is the gate to heavenly
goodness.
As those with
disabilities struggle to do the ordinary, they may experience sustaining
grace and come to know--better than most of us--our universal dependence
upon God.
And now it
came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his
brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that
they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit
cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord. (Mosiah
24:15)
Jesus holds
up the broken and misshapen as moral models to those of us who glide
through life. I would not be surprised if a scientific study found
that there is a direct correlation between the number of disabilities
in a ward and that ward's spiritual strength. Any pre-resurrection
city of Zion is likely to have more wheelchairs than sports cars.
Perhaps those
who limp through life volunteered in an earlier life to take more
conspicuous and painful limitations than the rest of us. Perhaps
they are the best among us. Perhaps they have special claim on the
promise that the last shall be first. They are poignant reminders
that we all bear infirmities and none can be healed without divine
ministrations.
. . . he hath
anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to
heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and
recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are
bruised, Luke 4:18
To be aware
of our disabilities can lead us to the Healer. Those who appear
unflawed may go unhealed.
I thank God
for the sweet souls who have taught me so much. How we should welcome
those with disabilities--financial, educational, emotional, physical,
or spiritual--to our number! May Heavenly Father send us more of
the sick and troubled and make us equal to the lessons they will
teach us.
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