I once had a student named Mary Jane. That was more than six decades ago. Recently I read a short autobiography of her life. She is now in her advanced years. Others in robust health and mind have done only a fraction of what Mary Jane has done. Such a story is told in the children’s book, The Secret Garden, in which story another Mary, through pressure tactics, directives, sternness and involvement, forces Colin out of the invalid life he has taken on, gets him out of his wheelchair and ultimately has him restored, with his reluctant participation, to the life he was meant to live. Or, we might take the sickly Elizabeth Barrett, swept off her daily couch and lifted away from fragile health by Robert Browning. They eloped, married, had a son, and wrote inspiring and timeless poetry. Such persons sometimes resist the forces that would make their own handicaps crippling of all action, or they go to work to bring troubled persons upward from limited lives. Mary Jane did both. She conquered not only herself but others for the same purpose – to be all they could be, not only for God but for self and society. She reflected almost perfectly a person with the gift of helps.
Mary Jane is what many persons in the general population call a spastic (uncontrolled muscles). She has little control over many of the muscles of her body. Her head, eyes, mouth, and limbs move in whatever direction they wish to take without her permission. Her voice is somewhat affected by all this. She came to me asking to be a major in the speech department of our college. Nothing looked promising except her indomitable will. The story is inspiring. She did very well indeed, and so captivated her audiences when she spoke, they virtually forgot her presumed handicap. She ultimately married, had children, was not visibly healed of her affliction, and even as I write she is a world person helping others who have experienced similar life barriers, but needing a prod for the motivation she feels, to refuse to permit an affliction to become a handicap. She is a person of indomitable faith, of constant good cheer, and an achiever.
Mary Jane had great insight. She knew what she had to overcome. She was not offended by it, and disarmed others with her humor of it. Jesus seemed far more interested in the poor, the sickly, the servant, the prisoner, the women and children of ordinary families, than the men and women of high degree. Certainly he was (and is) interested in all persons equally, but made clear that those who thought themselves whole and well did not believe they needed a physician (helper). To these privileged in society preoccupations with worldly comfort and satisfaction blinds them to the constant, somewhat spastic, disease of sin. In so simple an analysis hangs the reality of ultimate human immortality. To some degree Mary Jane drew upon what will-be for now. Those who ultimately go into God’s kingdom will be healed. Mary Jane knew the spiritual healing of Christ, and treated her difference from others as means for ministry. Like Father Damien among the lepers, she moved among those within her experience, making it better for them by making them feel better about themselves, so to do better in life. She counted on their understanding of the ministry of Christ that heals even when they live and work with a clinging burden. They now foreshadow their future heavenly healing. When I see her yonder, she will be Mary Jane of Christ. She won’t be spastic. Mary Jane’s experience ought to embarrass persons with normal health who live for self only, making no contribution to others with words of encouragement, of prayer and faith, of assistance (support) and involvement, to draw from persons, even with limited acuities, the best from them. Here is a story of life, without excuses. *Mark W. Lee, Sr. — 2016, 2020