Sanctity of Human Life

 

Obviously, children not yet born need our protection, our voice. We affirm the sanctity of their lives, confess that although still invisible to our eyes, they are already precious to God, and to us. We do not want to ever forget the value of what we cannot yet see, or touch, or cuddle.  

Once a child is born, though, our own unholy standards of value, not the ones we affirmed before his birth, seem to determine our response to that little person. All of us want our children to be smart, beautiful, capable, athletic and otherwise talented. Usually we can convince ourselves that they are! We value those things, and we know other people do. Re-read all the Christmas letters you received, if you suspect I'm wrong here! 

As everyone reached out to take a verse from the Psalms, I decided, on impulse, to choose one also for the profoundly retarded child with the beautiful smile and the vacant eyes, immobile in his wheelchair. His mother unrolled the little paper scroll and read, "But at my vindication I shall see your face; when I awake, I shall be satisfied, beholding your likeness." (Psalm 17:16)

The atmosphere suddenly became electric. Everyone had already marveled that the verses they'd received seemed to be especially "theirs." Each remarked at the sense of being given a personal word from God, or new words that expressed the testimony of his own experience with the Lord. Our shared Sunday School conversation had already been rich and enthusiastic. But this...changed everything.

If Bobby could speak, this is what he would sing to the Father. This is the hope, the promise of significance that not one of us can yet see. His significance is as invisible as any unborn baby's. His life really is "useless," forever hidden with Christ in God. He will be diapered as long as he lives. And yet...

However much people will likely avert their eyes from him when, as an adult, he still cannot control his body or use his voice or feed himself, God knows and cherishes the life we do not so easily recognize as "good."

There will be a day when the secrets of all hearts will be revealed, and on that day, the secrets of his will be opened too. We will see what matters and what does not. We will see Jesus. We will see what it means to be human. And Bobby, sooner than the rest of us, perhaps, will be entirely "satisfied, beholding the face of God."  And his mother will be satisfied, too.