I am the second oldest of seven kids. We all still live around the Elk River area. I would venture to say that if you met ANY of my siblings, you would say that they are nice people. That’s true. One reason for that, I think, is that we, as a family growing up, had our family secrets “exposed.” We couldn’t hide the differences that would normally are kept private or secret. Every family has things that they try to hide. That is, not let anyone know about. We couldn’t do that.
You see our mother is deaf. She was born that way. And we have a brother with Down Syndrome. Those are things we couldn’t hide, or pretend didn’t exist. And it was not easy.
You see, with our Mom, American Sign Language (ASL) is the primary language for deaf people. English then is considered a second language. And in ASL there are no conjugations of verbs. There are no differences between saying . . I AM, she IS, they ARE. Or like in . . . she WILL EAT, she is EATING, she ATE. Those are all the same sign, but it depends where you place the sign. So our mother never learned how to conjugate verbs, or rather she is always getting them mixed up. So I remember once in collage, a kid down the hall saw a letter from my Mom and starting to read it. He asked, “What’s wrong with your Mom?”
Or once, as we all were eating supper and the phone rang. That is, our one land line phone which was right next to the table. My brother George answered the phone, he was about 9 or 10 years old. We all could hear the conversation. The woman on the other end asks, “Is your Mom there?” “Yep.” “Could I talk with her?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “She’s mentally ill.” We all look at him . . . “Mentally ill? She’s deaf.” “Oh is that what it is,” he tells us.
And trust me, we kids were not saints. It easy to sass back to someone who is deaf when they turn their back . . . that is until our sister would say to Mom, “Do you know what they just said?” Whoa.
Or with my brother Guy, he’s second from the bottom. He is 55 years old and has Down Syndrome. Back when he was born, some families were sending their infant Down’s away to an institution. Not a group home, but a big hospital. When Guy was born our parents made the decision, “No we are not sending him away.” So when we was a toddler they drove him to a special pre-school to a church just east of Princeton, and he never attended any classes in Elk River (for they didn’t have special Education yet). Instead he was bused to Monticello and graduated from Monticello.
And again, we old siblings were no saints. For example, often we were told to watch him as we played outside. And we’d forget, so we’d lose him. And sure enough, usually a neighbor would eventually call, for they just came home from work . . . to find Guy in their living room watching TV and eating their food. Agh!
Or I remember when Guy was born and I having an argument with a neighbor girl. I’m about 10 years old. And she’s laying into us, that we have a “retard” in the family, so God must be punishing you. I yelled right back . . . “Well thank God, that he wasn’t born into your family, but into a family who consider him a blessing where he’ll be loved.”
It’s not that we were trying to exalt ourselves, but this is the reality . . . we have a Mom who’s deaf, a brother with Down Syndrome. And we could choose to be bitter about that and try to hide those facts. Or we accept that this is way it is and be better from it. So you see, any of my siblings know what it’s like to be stared at when we’re in public or to have people whisper about us. But we learned NOT to stare, NOT to point, NOT to whisper . . . but to accept others.
Every family has something to be whispered about. Every family has wounds, scars, problems. Every family has a certain degree of dysfunction . . . and many hide it, or pretend things are better than they are, and live under a shadow of “family secrets.” That is, don’t let anybody know.
In the gospel, Jesus warns about exalting yourself. Not just the “I’m great” but the “We have no problems, everything is fine. Everything is perfect.” And it’s NOT that you need to advertise all of your family woes . . . but don’t pretend, don’t get so hard on each other when things aren’t perfect. Don’t make yourselves out to be more than you are. Just be real.
In chapter 6 of Luke’s gospel, Jesus has a version of his Sermon on the Mount. It’s called Sermon on the Plain. I would like to imagine Jesus offering a variation of it:
Blessed are you who know your wounds, for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who admit your brokenness, you will be filled.
Blessed are you who do not try to make yourselves to be more than you are, for you will find joy.
Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you and defame you.
Rejoice.
For you don’t have to be perfect.
For when you are humble, that is admit how things are, then you shall be exalted.