A Philadelphia reader passes along this deeply moving essay by a Catholic mother of a Down syndrome child, responding to some vandals who stole photos of Down children from a website, and reposted them making fun of the kids and their condition. Excerpt:
This attack was also painful because of the callous lack of understanding of what these photos stand for. Accomplishments in this particular world are hard won. They represent hours of sleepless nights rocking babies who struggle to breathe during bouts of pneumonia and other respiratory infections. They represent long hospital stays, emergency room visits, and anxious hours spent in surgery waiting rooms. They represent days, months, and years of physical, occupational and speech therapy, conferences with school officials, and the effort to make others understand these children’s unique gifts. Even the simplest everyday activities can be a real triumph for children and parents. The amount of love, suffering, pain, and prayers that go into the moments captured in the posters is probably more than many people go through in a lifetime. These children overcome circumstances and adversities that would overwhelm most adults.
More:
But after seeing the online ridicule of Down Syndrome children, I wonder whether the deepest sorrow that pierced Mary’s heart was not the physical suffering of her son, but the cruel taunts and mockery to which he was subjected. It must have been bewildering to her that his tormentors could not see that all the life and goodness, truth and beauty in her Son. Of course our children are not messiahs. But a Holy Cross Priest at Notre Dame reminded us last week that those of us who care for individuals with cognitive handicaps stand on holy ground. Knowing a child with Down Syndrome is like getting a small glimpse of the divine; original sin has been cleansed by baptism, and their souls are barely touched by actual sin. And that’s why we feel that when they are shown disrespect, something innocent and holy and sacred has been profaned. . . .
Some of the people who commented legitimately pointed out that we need to be careful not to make Down’s Syndrome people into automatic saints simply because they are cognitively disabled. And one or two parents of Down Syndrome people pointed out that they can get angry and behave inappropriately, though most are unusually well behaved. Nevertheless, the point is well taken about the Virgin Mary, because it is part of our shared humanity. When our children are mocked, we often hurt worse than the children. The Scripture about a sword piercing Mary’s heart is true for any parent who sees a child being unjustly treated. The Theotokos’ pain was worse than ours because her child is perfect. There never would have been a moment in which her child behaved inappropriately and for which a mocking response might at least have been understandable. But, in a sense, many a mother can understand the pain that the Virgin Mary felt, the sword that plunged through her heart again and again.
We often do not realize just how bad the mocking of Jesus was by his attackers. If you read the Gospel according to Saint John, chapter 8, it is a long chapter full of conflicts. Early in the chapter, right after they have been shown up in the episode of the adulterous woman, they go after Jesus and ask him, “Where is your father?” They point out that his parentage is considered questionable. Later, in response to some of his teaching they respond, “We are not illegitimate children. . . .” Another insult is found just a couple of verses later, “Aren’t we right in saying that you are a Samaritan and demon-possessed?” In other words, they are saying that the Virgin Mary had sexual intercourse with a half-breed (that is what Samaritans were considered) and that his father is really one of them while his spiritual father is obviously Satan.
Eventually, Jesus does let them have it, “You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desire. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him.”
This was just one episode and the Virgin Mary would most certainly have heard of this episode, as the Gospels make it clear that news of what Our Lord Jesus was doing continually made it up to Nazareth. For her, like for the mothers of some cognitively disabled children, it was a lifetime of hearing her child ridiculed and put down. Finally, she had to stand at the foot of the Cross and watch her son being tortured to death. And, yes, this meant that “something innocent and holy and sacred has been profaned.” Mothers of Down’s Syndrome people do not have to watch such a final ending. But, they do feel the “death of a thousand cuts” as they watch the mistreatment of their children. The same is true of mothers of autistic people or genetically damaged people or . . . . All too often, the common response of many societies (not just ours) is mockery and mistreatment.
But, it strikes me that they have defenders in heaven. First, Our Lord Jesus Christ himself, who was mocked and mistreated, and then his mother, the Theotokos, whose heart was pierced by a sword. More than that, how often have you read a story of the mother of one of these children who has become a model of patience and understanding? Many mothers of children with disabilities grow in character (not all, but many). I suspect that they are getting some spiritual help of which they may not even be aware. I suspect that their defenders are at work and that their suffering has become a path towards holiness. May our God continue to give them spiritual blessings and comforts. May the Theotokos continue to intercede for them.
Thank you Father for these words of comfort and meditation.