This is the seventh entry in the UCCDM Lenten Devotional 2015. This reflection for Easter Sunday comes to us from Rev.Craig Modahl who is the current Treasurer of UCCDM. His bio can be found on the Board of Directors page.
Mark 16:1-8
16:1 When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him.
16:2 And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb.
16:3 They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?”
16:4 When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back.
16:5 As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed.
16:6 But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him.
16:7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”
16:8 So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to any one, for they were afraid.
My best friend Kevin had been placed in a large state institution at the age of eight. He had a developmental disability. He didn’t speak and would sometimes become aggressive when he was frustrated. He was heavily medicated to control his behaviors. He needed help with all of his personal care. He had no connections to his biological family. For 16 years he lived in a place set aside from meaningful relationships, from family, from friends, and from a home he could call his own.
As a result of some strong advocacy, in the early 1980’s the state began to reduce the number of people living in institutions. At 24 years old, Kevin was relocated to a small group home near where he was born. There, he shared a home with three other men in a residential neighborhood. He made connections with people who became committed to helping him find his place in life. He was welcomed back into the community.
It was as if a stone had been rolled away. A barrier to life had been removed. He was able to leave the darkness, the separateness, the isolation of an institution and begin a new life in community.
On Easter morning we rejoice at the sight of the empty tomb. This is the morning that we have anticipated. It is the morning that we have longed for. It is a time to celebrate as our hearts are lifted from the dark depths of the tomb to the light of a new day. It is the day that the stone had been rolled away and the tomb had been emptied.
For many people with disabilities there is a heavy stone that must be pushed aside more than one time. It is an encounter that is experienced each and everyday. It is a stubborn, rigid barrier that separates, excludes, divides and isolates. It seems impossible to move at times. It saps energy, stifles meaning, shades light, and prevents connection.
But the stone is not disability. It is not dementia, depression, hearing loss, brain injury, developmental disability, loss of a limb, or visual impairment. It is not autism, Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy, paralysis, or epilepsy. The stone is the perception of inadequacy, the stigma of misunderstanding, the assumption of pity, or the imposition of otherness. It is the barrier to inclusion, welcome and embrace. It is that stone that must be moved and may one day be shattered, pulverized into dust and carried away on the winds of acceptance, openness and love.
As people with disabilities, advocates, friends and family, we sometimes ask “Who will roll away the stone for us . . . ?” We aren’t sure we have the strength to do it on our own. Will there be anyone to help? But we follow the example of the three women and don’t let that question deter us from our mission. We move forward with hope and determination.
In Mark’s Gospel this question is asked but it is not answered: Who did roll the stone away? The gardener? The angels? How about Jesus? Was anyone else around? Or could it have been all of them together? Why not? We need to gather all who can help move those stones again and again and again.
Kevin’s move out of the institution and into the community was a first and a heavy stone to move. There were many more stones that followed. But there were also many people in his life to help him push them to the side. Over the years Kevin gained friends, was welcomed as a family member, and was known not for his disability but for his character, his laugh, his embrace and, especially, his friendship.
God of the empty tomb, we have experienced the darkness, the isolation, and the cold of the tomb. It has drained our souls, weakened our bodies and chilled our hearts. But this morning, this Easter morning we can shout “Alleluia!” as the warmth and light of new life calls us from the depths and brings us into communion with you and all your people. Help us to embrace one another, to leave no stone standing as a barrier to full inclusion, participation and welcome. Alleluia and Amen!
