Life! ...More Abundantly

On a frigid, blustery morning in late January, I stood shivering outside the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago watching in a frightened amazement at the caravans of medi-cars, buses and other conveyances letting down lifts, carefully unloading scores of people in wheelchairs, mobile-beds, on crutches, or being half-carried by attendants. This small army inched laboriously through the automatic sliding doors, and, to my shame, there came to mind that line from Dante's Inferno: "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here."

I fell in line with the group and followed them onto the elevators up to their destination - the physical therapy units where ultra-modern exercise equipment and hospital personnel awaited them. Already, in those units, resident patients were sweating and straining using the equipment under the tender and watchful eyes of doctors, nurses and therapists.

This was my first day as a substitute chaplain at 'Rehab', as it is familiarly referred to by the disabled community and the medical profession. Rehab is world-famous for its outstanding innovative work in physical rehabilitation. While I had heard so much about it, and was well acquainted with the pioneer work done by its Director, Dr. Henry Betts, I had never seen Rehab in action. What surprises were in store for me that first day and in the succeeding days!

Curiously, (and uneasily, I must admit), I began my rounds of the floors assigned to me, visiting the resident patients. Each one I met is severely disabled, and most of them, totally or partially mobility impaired. I say uneasily because at this point I had little or no information about who they were, where they came from, the nature of their disability, the causes of their condition, and, above all, from my perspective, whether they were Catholic, Protestant, ]ewish, or of other traditions. This meant that I just had to meet each one as a friend, listen and learn. And how I learned! Despite the saturation of our newscasts on the tragedies of life, or even a sustained contact with disabled persons, as I have had, there is nothinq like spendinq time with the victims of these tragedies when they are in the throes of their suffering to learn what these disabilities really entail - for the individuals themselves, their families, -and how they see their future.

The first person I talked to was a Polish immigrant, not long in the country, trying to learn English and get started with a job, when he was attacked by three muggers who beat him, hit him on the head, rendering him unconscious for 20 days, and causing multiple disabilities. The next was a Puerto Rican mother of eight who fell down the stairs and is now a quadriplegic. The next, a black man who worked in the steel mills for many years, then bought a tavern to help continue the support and education of his 15 children and 27 grandchildren. About two years ago, as he entered the tavern, he was shot in the neck and the bullet hit his spinal cord. He too is a quadriplegic. The next, a young father of two, a roofer, injured in a minor fall, now a paraplegic. The next, a middle-aged man, who had a stroke and is paralyzed on one side and struggling to regain his ability to talk.

On succeeding days, I learned much more of myriad kinds of injuries, and the mixture of all classes of people, of every age, and having lost my uneasiness, I had this indiscernible, growing euphoric feeling about this place. Finally, the reason for it took shape in my mind:

Here Is Humanity in its Purest Form. First of all, there are no distinctions of race, nationality or color, of dress, of physical form, of social or financial status, of personal problems...they are just people - people who have special needs. Added to this, in Rehab itself, there are no distinctions in the furniture or the make-up of the rooms, quality of the treatment, and even more, there is the same concern and courtesy given to each person by the ever alert, attentive. and cheerful staff. I thought of how much our society, our institutions, including churches, unconsciously erect walls, make distinctions and create separateness. I thought of how our attitudes and social practices do the same. But here, in this environment, this portion of suffering humanity mirrors the ideal community of the human family.

This realization was further intensified when I attended staff meetings of doctors and nurses, and listened with awe as they discussed each patient with such professional and personal concern...each department head stating the goals to be achieved with each individual. Here was love for every person's humanity, and for each person's fullness of life. Of course, no one there will claim it is Camelot! But to an outsider somewhat familiar with how disabled people are usually treated, it is "one shining moment". The austere and orderly lobby gives only subtle clues to the redemption taking place on the floors above - the quiet victories in physical therapy rooms, the intensely personal revelations of the true value of life itself, the deeply moving experience of a family drawn together in loving support of one another.

While waiting for the elevator one day, and mulling over what I was experiencing, I happened to see mounted on the wall a parchment entitled: Statement of Mission and Philosophy. It reads in part: "We are committed to providing an atmosphere that...stresses compassion and recognizes the uniqueness of each individual...maintaining a family-like environment....We believe excellence in patient care requires that comprehensive patient care address the medical, physical, psychological, social, spiritual, vocational and economic aspects of patients and their families...that patients and families be involved in their care and provided with hope, acceptance, and mastery of their lives." That explained something of my wonderment about Rehab. Those words of Dante which sneaked into my consciousness on that first day gave way to another more appropriate quote, words of Jesus Christ: "I Have Come That You May Have Life and Have it More Abundantly." Dr. Betts has stated that he is often confronted with people saying to him: "it must be depressing to do your kind of work." He replies: "that remark angers me. What do people think life really is? Won't each of us be disabled at some time? And die eventually? Can we remain depressed about these inevitabilities? Certainly I can't. To see people use strengths they never knew they had, to see them triumph and live with such glories is really exhilarating. It is the ultimate reward. I witness this every day."

This determination to enhance the life of every person, no matter what their background, condition, or cause of that condition, is so magnificently manifested by that micro-world at Rehab. What a lesson for every institution and every society.

That 'enhancing' is most dramatically seen in the regimen demanded of the patients. Six days of the week, they are engaged in intensive therapy programs; physical, psychological, occupational, recreational, social, spiritual, vocational and economic, as stated in the Rehab Mission Statement.

In conjunction with this, as I was being initiated into the philosophy and methodology of Rehab, I was amused that I was asked, separately, by a doctor, some nurses, and two other chaplains, in a kind of apologetic manner, "are you into healing?" I replied: "No, not physical." In substance, each of them responded: "Good! While it is quite natural that patients go through stages of anger, depression and guilt, and would welcome a cure, there are those who have a hard time accepting themselves as disabled, and possibly disabled for life, and they hope for a quick and complete fix by a miracle worker, whether that be a clergyman or doctor or someone making a novena for them. They are hesitant to work to become functional. At this place, we rely on sustained human effort, with the help of God, of course." This reminded me of what Dr. Betts had to say at our Stauros Congress in 1983: "I am sure that miracles have happened, but I have never seen one. What I have seen are the 'miracles' which have resulted from the expertise of our staff and the efforts of the patients." I was reminded also of what another former patient of Rehab, a very religious woman with muscular dystrophy, said to me: "I am sick of these people who come to me and badger me that 'if I had enough faith, I would be out of this wheelchair and walking.' I was born this way and have faith that God knows why."

At the very time that I started at Rehab, I read an article in "The Bible Today" by Scripture professor Leland White. He treats the honor/shame culture of Jesus' day. He says "Public Evidence of Holiness, of one's relationship to God, was assumed to exist. In such a scheme, those inheriting certain offices or carrying out certain observances were evidently holy. At the same time, those afflicted with ill health or need lacked divine patronage or were indeed clients of alien spirits, unholy, shameful....To be holy was to be judged or considered holy by others; to be judged unrighteous, shameful, was to be shameful, unholy."

Unfortunately, this attitude has endured through the centuries so that persons with disabilities have been considered objects of shame, with the result that many have considered themselves shameful, not whole, not worthy. Just as there are many people who fall victims to a false 'learned superiority', so there are those who submit to a false 'learned inferiority'. This can be fatal to someone whose disability is the result of an accident which they caused, or to those who feel that they are being punished for something they have done that is wrong. This is not a true interpretation of the Jewish or Christian Scriptures.

Rehab abominates any sense of shame, or unworthiness, and strives not only to give every patient a sense of worth, dignity, and purpose in life, but also to provoke parents, family members and society at large to do the same.

There are many graduates of Rehab who demonstrate this. One of these was Ricky, a handsome young man who spent two years at Rehab after being severely injured by a drunken driver. The Chicago Tribune did a lengthy article on him, with pictures of his leaving the hospital, after his discharge, on his crutches, smiling and jubilant. He deserved the glowing tribute. There are many others who end their stay at Rehab, who go out on beds or in wheelchairs, or with unnoticeable disabilities who do not get that same kind of publicity, and possibly never will, but who have the same honorable spirit.

But a nagging question which comes to mind about Ricky and these other grads is: "will they be treated and aided by society outside the walls of Rehab as inside?... will they be accepted as total human beings, with unique gifts, with honor and not shame, and enjoy the same human and civil rights in education, employment, transportation, accessibility, as anyone else in society?"

I find it most appropriate to reflect on all this at this season when the Christian world celebrates the triumph over suffering and death by Jesus Christ.

To enhance life 'Here-and-now-and-hereafter' for all, particularly those whose lives are lived with pain and struggle, was the agenda of Jesus. When he began his work, speaking in his hometown synagogue, he read the prophecy of Isaias about himself: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me...to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim to the captives release, and sight to the blind, and to set at liberty the oppressed..." His own neighbors ran him out of town even then.

Undeterred, he continued to promote the cause of those tagged as Shameful: "Blest are you poor...blest are you who mourn...blest are you who hunger and thirst after justice...."

His most touching parables are The Good Samaritan, The Widow's Mite, The Prodigal Son, The Lost Sheep. His most scathing denunciations: Woe to you hypocrites because you devour the houses of widows; Woe to you who load others with oppressive burdens and do not lift your fingers to touch those burdens...

It was because of his continued efforts to enhance the life of those 'shameful ones' that he was tortured and put to death. That death was perpetrated by the 'Honored' opponents who judged him as being one of the 'Shameful'. That is why they yelled back at Pilate: "Crucify him! Crucify him!" Crucifixion was not just a form of torture, it was the legal weapon of degradation, the absolute shame...Jesus endured this to identify with all those in the human family who are placed in the same categories.

But, by the power of God, he rose from death and degradation. He conquered all suffering, shame and death. He gave dignity and victory to everyone who has undergone the same. Complete, unending Fullness of life was guaranteed....The Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago is a living symbol of this turning shame and death into life.