What Do You See? . . . Really? by: Matt Faust

"My brothers, as believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ, don't show favoritism. Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in shabby clothes also comes in. If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, 'Here's a good seat for you,' but say to the poor man, 'You stand there,' or 'Sit on the floor by my feet,' have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?" (James 2:1-4).

She's an artist. A writer. An activist. A strong Christian. Oh, yeah, and she's also paralyzed. Joni Erickson Tada is working overtime to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Christopher Reeve went from portraying Superman to not being able to lift a spoon to his lips. Yet how is he remembered? Some say he became a real superman after his horse-riding accident. His heroism began not in the sky, but from his wheelchair.

People like these don't just survive their disabilities; they thrive in spite of them. Like everyone else, they experience depression and sadness, but their desire to live outweighs the challenges.

James chapter 2 doesn't call for a tepid tolerance of the disadvantaged, the poor, and the weak. We are all weak. Those on the margins are our equals!

And yet, if a crippled person comes to church—someone who is a husband or wife, sister or brother, painter or writer—what do you see? How would you define that person?

Some may actually romanticize the person who has a disability, pushing him onto a Forrest Gump pedestal. Others may be afraid, and some may look down their noses at the person.

But let's look closer. Much closer. We are all human—flawed, talented, strong, weak, rich, poor, short, tall, skinny, heavy, muscled, slim. And we are all gifted. Christ gave our flawed souls a priceless gift. Why should that gift be denied because of physical or mental limitations?

If a short child can't see a beautiful sunset from a hill, his parents might lift him onto their shoulders to give him a better view. People with disabilities long for the same spiritual wholeness all of us desire. They thirst for the same spiritual water. They may need some help getting to the drinking fountain, though.

If we saw Jesus when he walked the earth, would we have judged the Son of God by his clothes or by his social status? We cannot judge a book by its cover. For instance, who was that learning-disabled eccentric who walked the streets in his bathrobe? Oh, Albert Einstein? What about that strange, dirty woman who lived among the poor? Mother Teresa?

I have a mild cerebral palsy that affects my right side. Some may look at the way I limp and think I am mentally challenged. That's not the case, though if it were, my Lord and my family would have love to spare for me.

I hold down a full-time job working with adults who have disabilities. I have a best friend named Mike who volunteered to fight in Iraq. I have a wonderful family. I love to read, joke around, ride a bike—and I want to get closer to God. My main limitations are spiritual: the sin and temptation I face. It would be a shame if my limp took precedence over the eternally relevant issues in my life.

So who's that man who just sauntered into church this morning—the one with the bad eye? Who's that woman who needs a place to stay until she gets on her feet? He and she are our neighbors. We must respect and serve them gladly and without prejudice. After all, God's light can shine in them—and in us—for eternity.

. . . But what do we see?