These Broken Bones

Well, I got my wish. 

For two of my last three full weeks in Jordan, I’m with Hazem during the day. In my final week, I’ll wrap things up in the office and take a vacation. 

While I was visibly excited to begin working full-time with Hazem this week, in the back of my mind, I was also apprehensive: I know how physically and emotionally drained I can be after just a few hours with him, just a few days a week. Am I ready for 8:30 AM to 6:00 PM days, day after day, for two weeks? I’m already grieving the departure of all the other children I love. Can my body, mind, and heart handle more Hazem time now?  

The first day, like any other day, brought good moments and bad moments. While bouncing on the trampoline in the gym, Hazem was as happy as I’ve ever seen him, and his happiness is positively contagious. On the other hand, while Hazem worked on (played with) Braille, I felt especially frustrated by his lack of progress.

Snack-time typically ends at 4:00 PM. On that first day, the deputy head of the deafblind unit turned to me at 4:05 and signed, “Okay, you’re off now, bye!”

“Wait...Aren’t I working until 6:00?”

“No, all of the day teachers are leaving at 4:00, and another teacher will take your place. For the next two weeks, you’re off at 4:00. But do you want to work with Hazem until 6:00 anyways?”

I answered immediately.

“No no, that’s okay.”

I said good-bye to Hazem and left the unit. 

I got my wish, and I didn’t truly embrace it.

I was surprised myself.

And even more surprised that I didn’t regret my decision. 

I felt relief.

Then shame. 

Didn’t you say that you wanted this more than anything else? Don’t you love this boy? Don’t you want to at least TRY to make a significant impact in these two weeks? What will you do instead during those extra few hours? Read, write, rest? How is this anything other than selfishness?

I don’t know how to respond. 

...And I might just leave it at that.  

From Audrey Assad:

You could plant me like a tree beside a river.

You could tangle me in soil and let my roots run wild.

And I would blossom like a flower in the desert,

but for now, 

just let me cry.

Bind up these broken bones!

Mercy, bend and breath me 

back to life!

Some of My Favorites

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mahmoud's Gift

One of my favorite articles of clothing is an off-white hoodie with “TCS” in large red letters on the front. 

It is far too big for me. There is a 6-inch rip on the right sleeve. And I never attended Texoma Christian School. 

So, why do I love it so much?

Because when I’m wearing it, I can grab the bottom of the hoodie in front of me, rotate it up and outwards towards me, and read these words, which were resting upside down at my waistline: “Todd loves me.”

Todd Wortham was my youth pastor for three years. As a young teenager, I was utterly captivated by this man and his passion for the Gospel. He spoke about the cross and moved me to tears. His ministry in my life marks my first big step of discipleship. 

Two years after he left our youth group and moved to Nashville, I stayed with him for a day while visiting Belmont University as a prospective student. I don’t remember much about our time together. I told him that Wheaton College was my first choice. He smiled and said, “I can see you there.” It was a cold day, and I didn’t have a jacket, so he lent me a hoodie. 

As we said good-bye, I began to take it off, but he said, “No, keep it. Wait. Give it to me.” I did. He walked over to his desk and grabbed a black permanent marker.

“So you’ll always remember,” he said. 

Todd died almost two years ago.

The church that he planted and was pastoring had organized a mission trip to Joplin, Missouri. While restoring the floor of a tornado-ravaged house, he suffered a severe heart attack. He was 42 years old. 

I don’t think that I’d seen him since receiving that hoodie four years earlier. I cried much when I learned about his death, and I’ve cried much since. Even as I type...

I did not bring it with me to Jordan. I decided that it is too precious to me to risk losing or ruining. 

But I did bring a large off-white sweatshirt. There’s nothing on the front. The words “Love Town” are on the back, commemorating an event at my school last year.  

The students went home today. I gave all of them pictures of the two of us, which I’ve been collecting and printing for the last two weeks. Ten or so of the students also received a personal article of clothing. For some reason, the kids here wear the old shirts and hats of volunteers with pride.

I planned Mahmoud’s gift months ago. 

Nearing the End

I’ve been thinking about this post for two months now.

And I still don’t know what to say.

Today, the children finished their final exams. In a few days, we’ll celebrate with a school-wide BBQ.

Then, on the 20^th, they’ll all go home.

And I’ll still be here. 

I don’t yet know what my work schedule will look like during my last four weeks in Jordan. I might spend a lot more time in the office. I might be doing manual labor tasks each day. I might work with my precious Hazem full-time – which is, of course, what I want to do. (The deafblind children will continue to come to school during the summer.)

Besides the fact that working with Hazem has been one of the most impacting experiences of my life so far, there are two big reasons for this desire.

First, I was not able to work with Hazem anywhere nearly as much as I would have liked to this year. Given how much I’ve written about him here, many people back home are surprised to learn that I’m only with him eight hours per week. It was certainly enough time to fall in love with him, but it wasn’t enough time to foster significant developmental progress. So, while I feel prodigiously blessed to have become attached to Hazem, and equally blessed to have watched him become attached to me, I can’t help but wonder, “What if we’d had more time together?” I know that four weeks with him won’t really change this, won’t change much. But it would at least make me feel better. 

The second reason regards saying good-bye.

I got a taste of the pain two and a half weeks ago – the first time I cried when I thought about leaving the many people that I’ve grown to love this year. I’ve shed a few tears most days since. 

The pain of saying good-bye to our loved ones is alleviated when they say good-bye back. 

A tragic beauty emerges in our shared grief, which bears witness to our shared joys. 

But what if the loved one can’t say good-bye back?

What if you simply can’t communicate to him that you are leaving? That you won’t touch each others’ faces or hold each others’ hands tomorrow, or the next day, or for many, many days to come? Or perhaps ever again? 

At what point will Hazem’s underdeveloped mind realize that I’ve actually left? 

And what will his mind make of this realization? Will he feel abandoned?

Or worse... 

Will he be incapable of concluding anything beyond what I shared in a poem about another deafblind child several months ago? 

My friend is not. 

The light is not.  

He was, it was, and now they are not.

Oh God, where is the beauty in this?

I cling to the words of my dear friend Justin McCoy: “I think that when we remember that your attachment to Papa is endless and Papa's affection for Hazem is endless, then all things come together in a way that surpasses understanding. Peace abides in trust.”

Prayer for a Beloved Boy

Oh God,

I remember Job, King Neco of Egypt, the Magi from the East.

I can’t help but ask,

“Can’t You do it again?”

Aren’t You doing it again and again?

It is my greatest hope

that I have rightly understood You

and Your plan to unite

all things

in heaven and on earth

in Yourself,

making peace

by the blood of the cross of Jesus.

Jesus,

Jesus,

the one and only savior

of the world.

Oh Jesus,

I recognize the possibility

that my understanding and hope are misguided,

and I want to proclaim:

“No matter what happens

to him,

You are my God.”

But I must ask on his behalf

what the trembling prison guard asked Paul and Silas

after witnessing a miraculous liberation.

Must this boy somehow learn to call himself by our name,

denying his identity in the eyes of his world

and thus in his own?

Even before I knew that identity, my whole being felt compelled

not just to love, but to revere this precious boy,

whose destiny I now strive to ascertain

and secure.

Oh Father God,

Mother God,

Brother God,

Sister God,

One God

who creates, sustains, redeems:

I’ve loved this boy ever since I began,

and You’ve loved this boy ever since the beginning,

and he loves You.

He wants to be like You

and seems to understand the beauty of Your cross.

Tell me, God:

Is that enough?

Please, God.

Let it be

enough.

Amen

Wait... That's in the Qur'an?*

 Lo! those who believe (in that which is revealed unto thee, Muhammad), and those who are Jews, and Christians, and Sabaeans** — whoever believeth in Allah and the Last Day and doeth right — surely their reward is with their Lord, and there shall no fear come upon them neither shall they grieve. 2:62 (5:69 is almost identical)

(And remember) when the angels said: O Mary! Lo! Allah giveth thee glad tidings of a word from Him, whose name is the Messiah,*** Jesus, son of Mary, illustrious in the world and the Hereafter, and one of those brought near (unto Allah). 3:45

(The angel) said: I am only a messenger of thy Lord, that I may bestow on thee a faultless son. She said: How can I have a son when no mortal hath touched me, neither have I been unchaste? He said: so (it will be). Thy Lord saith: It is easy for Me. And (it will be) that We may make of him a revelation for mankind and a mercy from Us, and it is a thing ordained. 19:19-21

And We caused Jesus, son of Mary, to follow in their footsteps, confirming that which was (revealed) before him, and We bestowed on him the Gospel wherein is guidance and a light, confirming that which was (revealed) before it in the Torah — a guidance and an admonition unto those who ward off (evil).  5:46

When Jesus came with clear proofs (of Allah’s sovereignty), he said: I have come unto you with wisdom, and to make plain some of that concerning which ye differ. So keep your duty to Allah, and obey me. 43:63

There is no compulsion in religious matters.**** 2:256

And the Jews say the Christians follow nothing (true), and the Christians say the Jews follow nothing (true); yet both are readers of the Scripture. Even thus speak those who know not. Allah will judge between them on the Day of Resurrection concerning that wherein they differ. 2:113

For each We have appointed a divine law and a traced-out way. Had Allah willed He could have made you [members of the three Abrahamic faiths] one community. But that He may try you by that which He hath given you (He hath made you as ye are). So vie one with another in good works. Unto Allah ye will all return, and He will then inform you of that wherein ye differ. 5:48 (2:148 is similar)

* The English translation that I’ve used here is The meaning of the Glorious Qur’an — An explanatory translation by Mohammed Marmaduke Pickthall, initially published in 1930. This was the first book of its kind. Contrary to what many American Christians have been told, (the majority of) Muslims do not believe that it is wrong to translate the Qur’an into another language; rather, once translated, it simply ceases to be the literal word of God, revealed to the prophet Mohammed through the angel Gabriel, and becomes instead an interpretation of that word. ...And you thought you had a conservative view on Scripture!

** According to Charles Kimball, scholars disagree on exactly which community is meant by the word “Sabaeans.” Some think that the name refers to the Mandaeans of southern Iraq.

*** From Charles Kimball’s Striving Together: “[Jesus] is mentioned by name in 93 different verses scattered in 15 chapters [of the Qur’an]. He is called a prophet, a messenger, a servant of God, a Word from God, the Messiah and one inspired or aided by the Spirit of God. These latter three are particularly intriguing as distinctive titles among the prophetic figures in the Qur’an. ... On eleven occasions, the Qur’an speaks of Jesus as the Messiah; in seven verses, the ‘Spirit of God’ is directly associated with Jesus. The precise meaning of these titles is not clearly explained.” (Pickthall asserts that the Spirit is simply a term for the angel Gabriel.)

**** Other translations, including the one used by Kimball, render the sentence in the imperative: “There shall be no compulsion in religious matters.” 

To Be Deaf and Religious, pt. 2

On one hand, I am hesitant. 

Why would we Christians want to be informed of yet another injustice for which our tradition bears responsibility? Do we really need another reason to feel guilty, another prayer request to forget and then regret forgetting? It’s hard enough for us to accept our accountability for unjust wars, for attitudes and system of racism, for the unyielding demonization and periodic brutalization of sexual minorities. (We’re getting there, God.) 

But on the other hand, regardless of how others respond, I feel compelled to speak out for those with whom I have fallen in love this year. And this means speaking out against that which has caused their suffering.

And sadly, the Christian tradition bears part of that weight. 

Many of the stumbling blocks and offenses described in the previous post are present in the Christian tradition as well. Why is the eradication of deafness a sign of the Kingdom of God in Matthew 11:5? Does Jesus agree to “heal” the deaf man in Mark 7:33-37 because he thinks that there’s something wrong with deafness? Is Jesus’ message really for us? (“He who has ears, let him hear!”)

I don’t think that these questions indicate injustices so much potential obstacles. And actually, I think that most of the obstacles can be overcome fairly simply. 

For example, here’s how I would respond to the questions about Matthew 11:5 and Mark 7:33-37. In ancient Near Eastern cultures, the existence and activity of demons was presumed. Jews in Jesus’ time would have understood demonic activity as the work of malevolent forces that seek to rival the one true God by binding and maiming God’s creation. Consequently, Jesus’ audiences conjectured that demonic possession was the cause of deafness, blindness, and many physical maladies. So, in light of this cultural context, how would Jesus prove that he had divine authority over supernatural forces of evil? He would demonstrate that he could “undo” what people assumed supernatural forces of evil had done — regardless of whether or not such forces were actually responsible.

Alright then. If such obstacles can be overcome, where is the injustice to which I’ve referred? 

The answer is related to an assumption discussed in the previous post’s section on Judaism: learning is necessarily dependent on hearing. This dangerous assumption has emerged in many times and places. Perhaps most prominently, in his History of Animals (book 4, chapter 9), Aristotle wrote that “those who are born deaf all become speechless; they have a voice but are destitute of speech.” 

The Greek word translated as “speechless” can also mean “senseless” or “lacking reason.”

And this is the meaning that one of the most influential thinkers in the history of Christianity propagated and provided with scriptural justification.

In his Against Pelagius, St. Augustine writes, “For what great fault is innocence sometimes born blind, sometimes born deaf, which blemish indeed hinders faith, as witness the Apostle who says: ‘Faith comes by hearing?’”

Romans 10:17 states, “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”

According to Raymond Lee’s A Beginner’s Introduction to Deaf History, “Augustine shared Aristotle’s ideas about the nature of dumbness [the inability to produce widely intelligible speech — an inability with which deafness has been fallaciously conflated throughout history] and this Augustinian influence caused the deaf to be deprived of education and religious instruction for at least the next 1,300 years.”  

Post-Augustine, the earliest extant accounts of deaf people receiving an education in the western hemisphere date from the 16th century. And it took another couple hundred years for actual deaf schools to be developed.

We’re talking about the denial of a basic human right to an entire minority group over the course of ages. 

Thankfully, Deaf education is recovering — not just from this injustice, but from aforementioned attempts to rob the Deaf of their language. One of the most meaningful testaments to this recovery is the 150-year legacy of Gallaudet University in Washington DC, the world’s only university with programs and services specifically designed to accommodate deaf and hard-of-hearing students.  

Still, it’s a sobering thought: what if my religious tradition hadn’t imprisoned the minds of thousands upon thousands of deaf individuals for over a millennium?