I would like to share with you this morning a beautiful story about a disabled boy - his views and the way he lives his life. I believe we can all learn some lessons from him. “God lives under the bed.” The story begins: I envy Kevin. My brother Kevin thinks God lives under his bed.
At least that's what I heard him say one night. He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped outside his closed door to listen. "Are you there, God?" he said. "Where are you? Oh, I see, under the bed."
I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room. Kevin's unique perspectives are often a source of amusement. But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world my brother Kevin lives in.
He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during birth. Apart from his size (6-foot-2), there are few ways in which he is an adult. He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7-year-old, and he always will.
He believes that God lives under his bed, that Santa Claus is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them. I remember wondering if Kevin realizes that he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life?
He up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk the dog, returns to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed. The only variation in the entire schedule is laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child.
He does not seem dissatisfied. He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7:05, eager for a day of simple work. He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day's laundry chores.
And Saturdays-oh, the bliss of Saturdays! Dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land, and speculate loudly. "That one's goin' to Chi-car-go!" Kevin shouts as he claps his hands. His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights
And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips. He doesn't know what it means to be discontent. His life is simple. He will never know the entanglements of wealth or power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats.
His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be. His hands are diligent. Kevin is never so happy as when he is working. When he unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it. He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished.
When his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax. He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others. His heart is pure. He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue.
Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry ...He is always transparent, always sincere. And he trusts God. Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child.
Kevin seems to know God - to really be friends with Him in a way that is difficult for an "educated" person to grasp. God seems like his closest companion. In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith.
It is then that am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions….. It is then I realize that perhaps! perhaps!! he is not the one with the handicap - I am. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances - they all! become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care.
Who knows if Kevin comprehends things that I can never learn? After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of God. And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I'll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed.
To put the question plainly and simply – how have our lives been different because of last week weekend. Many who attended church last Sunday experienced a rush of Easter Joy because the church was full of singing and flowers. But when it was all over, they returned behind locked doors of disbelief, doubt, fear, guilt, faithlessness and lack of conviction. They celebrated Easter, but nothing has really changed. The first disciples had locked all the doors where "because they were afraid of the religious authorities."
What about us who are here almost every week, what has changed in our lives because of the events that took place last weekend? Did the resurrection of Jesus change our lives in any way or did the holiday on Monday and then back to work on Tuesday make us content to leave Easter where we had found it – in the church where we had worshipped? Jesus Christ rose from the dead to bring us peace, to make changes in our lives that are drastic and lasting.
We see that happening in the life of Thomas in the Gospel. Thomas remained unchanged. "Unless I see the scars of the nails in his hands and put my finger on those scars and my hand in his side, I will not believe." The risen Lord appeared again a week later and invited him to put his fingers in the scars on Jesus’ hands and to feel the wound in his side. Suddenly Thomas was changed from doubt to a firm faith. Finally, Easter had sunk in and Thomas’ life was changed.
Easter isn't just one day on the church year calendar to be celebrated once a year. It is a way of life. Easter replaces fear with peace of mind. Jesus came among the fearful disciples and said, "Peace be with you". Peace is not so much a state of mind as a state of being.
Peace is a gift. It is a gift from God. Peace is a calmness and quiet even in the midst of danger. Peace is not escape from danger but faces it and still feels at peace. Peace is the absence of fear.
Kevin won't be surprised at all! We shouldn’t be surprise either. That's all we have to believe in the power of Easter… peace of Mind.
FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US TO OUR FEET WHEN OUR
WINGS HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW TO FLY.
Amen.
Rev. Samuel King-Kabu
April 18, 2004