When I was bishop of Hauts-de-Seine, I visited a parish for Mass. In the front row sat a mother cradling her severely disabled daughter. At communion, I approached to give them the Eucharist. I held out the Host to the child, and the mother told me her daughter had never made her first Communion. I asked a few questions. The mother explained that her daughter, Michèle, had been baptized, and every evening she talked to her about Jesus. "You should see how she listens to me!" she said. That day, I gave Michèle her first Communion. The mother was deeply moved. At the end of Mass, I asked them to come forward before the whole assembly. I wanted to share what Michèle had taught us: "She cannot evangelize through words, but she does it through her presence. She made her first Communion even though she never attended catechism classes. Through her, the Lord reminds us that in the Eucharist it is above all He who acts on our behalf, not the other way around." Weakness is one of the means God chooses to reveal himself. The first sign that people with severe disabilities give me is that they manifest Christ's presence.
Of course, their faith remains a mystery—as it does for all of us, dwelling in the depths of each person's heart. We have the ability to express ourselves well; based on our experience of faith, we can articulate and refine it. Yet we always feel our words are too thin. For children or adults with severe disabilities who cannot speak, and sometimes cannot gesture, it is harder still. Yet more often than not, I notice—when they are at prayer or at Mass—how peaceful and joyful they are. I am deeply struck by how long these people can sit in silent adoration. For me, it is a sign that something passes between the Lord and them. Something mysterious, but real.
Sacraments Are Effective Signs
Much progress has been made in ensuring sacramental access for people with severe disabilities. Yet you still hear it said: "Why give them Eucharist or absolution, since they don't understand?" We need to flip the question on its head. For us Catholics, the sacraments are first and foremost an effective sign of God's action toward us. When I go to Communion at Mass, it is because Christ invites me and wants to give himself to me. Above all, I respond to Christ who is there. And everyone has that right. It does not depend on our intelligence or our degree of understanding. We must hold this conviction for those whose intellectual capacity seems limited—even though baptismal preparation and catechism classes for children are, of course, deeply important.
I think of a boy who did not speak. We were preparing for the sacrament of reconciliation. I asked him how he understood Jesus's forgiveness. He picked up a large stone and struck it against his own chest. Then he gave me the stone and embraced everyone present. His stone represented what weighed on his heart. He gave it to the priest, who in Jesus's name was about to forgive him. Then he went and reconciled himself with all those around him. When you consider the questions and complications we create around the sacrament of reconciliation, our brothers and sisters with severe disabilities teach us the simplicity of the Christian way.
When we celebrate this sacrament with people at L'Arche Trosly's specialized homes—where at least three-quarters do not speak—we prepare with mime, song, and prayer. Then I put on the white vestment and stole and sit in a room where each person is brought in by their caregiver. The caregiver leaves, and I am face to face with a man or woman, young or older, who says not a word. Some look away, distracted. I do not know what stirs in their heart. But I know the Church trusts in the Lord's mercy, and the sacrament of reconciliation is one sign of that mercy in the Church. I say to them: "Christophe, I don't know if there are things weighing on your heart, if you think you haven't loved Jesus and the people around you enough. But I tell you: in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I forgive you." They may not understand these words in the moment, but they hear them. They are words of God's love—effective for him as for all of us.
I think we have made sacraments too solitary a passage. Yes, it is I who go to confession because I have sinned. But I make this passage in the faith of the Church. And to live reconciliation as we live all the sacraments, I need the Church. OL
Gérard Daucourt (O&L n. 210)
Translated by Rita Massi