“God loves me as I am.”
The round tables, in several languages, about awakening the faith of a child with intellectual disabilities, were addressed especially to parents. Normally they are the first ones to kindle faith in their child, but many of them have doubts about the goodness of God or even about God’s existence. If God is all-powerful, isn’t God more or less responsible for this tragedy? Many also ask questions about the capacity of their child to have a spiritual and religious life. There was still a trend at the time to believe that these children would go straight to heaven, that they were “little angels”. Some parents were very hurt by the attitude of some parishioners colored by pity, fear or indifference. They were wounded by the lack of understanding of priests who had refused the sacraments: Eucharist, Confirmation, sometimes even Baptism for their children, under the pretext that the children could not understand. This shows the range of expectations before this meeting.
In the Rosary Basilica there were more than three thousand French-speaking pilgrims who came to listen to a mother, a catechist and a special educator. These were: Denise Legrix, a young woman without limbs, Canon Bailleux, in charge of special catechesis for the Diocese of Cambrai, and Father Mesny, from the diocese of Lyon. Most had been formed in the school of Father Bissonier.
It is impossible to describe the richness and the density of their words. They all blended together to convey the beauty, the simplicity; the spiritual depth of those whom we call “disabled”.
I take this opportunity to speak a little about Father Bissonier, who had a big place in my life, even if we had times of disagreement, particularly in relation to the Faith and Light pilgrimage ! In the Church, very discreetly but very deeply, he left his mark on the second half of the twentieth century by his lifework on behalf of persons with disabilities: whether in catechesis, education or the formation of those who worked with them.
Father Bissonier, dazzled by the hidden treasures in the heart of the humble, literally “obsessed” by the privileged place that they should have in the heart of the Church, never ceased shouting the Good News from all rooftops, if I may say so. He searched for new methods. He taught. He helped to found and direct specialized organizations. He travelled the world. He was the pioneer of special catechesis.
He was convinced that the child, even the one who does not speak, must be able to discover in his or her own way that God is a father who loves her/him with infinite tenderness, that God sent his Son, who became our brother, our friend and who gives us the infinitely precious gift of his Spirit. This child has the right to be welcomed into the Church by Baptism, to be nourished by the body of Christ and to the help needed to grow in his or her Christian life by the outpouring of the Holy Spirit that is the sacrament of Confirmation. Father Bissonier wrote: “Isn’t it a wonderful thing to know that even the littlest child, who might have the greatest handicaps or disabilities imaginable, has a divine vocation? To him, also, God says: ‘I have called you from your mother’s womb.’ Even to little children such as these have I spoken about our God and I never believed I should regret having done so .”
This is what each one expressed in his or her own way. Canon Bailleux reminded us that, “we have the temptation to place ourselves ahead of the person with disabilities, when we are simply with’ him or her. The person with disabilities does not exist on one side and we on the other side, we have the same destiny, the destiny of the children of God…” Father Delpierre, in his turn, added that in the loving relationship with God, the one who has an intellectual disability “is not more disabled than we are. It is really the only area where we are certain that this person is less disabled”, because certainly there is between him or her and God a secret dialogue that surpasses our ability to understand.
There was also the witness of young François, a boy with an intellectual disability, who had just made his first communion. After the ceremony, his mother had invited some people in for a family gathering. François’s godfather whispered to her: “What a beautiful liturgy! What a pity that this poor little one understood nothing.” Tears came to his mother’s eyes. François, who had understood everything and seen everything, approached his mother and softly told her: “Do not be troubled, Mommy. God loves me as I am!” In these few words he had spoken the essence of the Gospel, that we ourselves have so much difficulty believing and living, and that the theologians will never fully comprehend.
Two important conclusions from all these “round tables”: the child with disabilities, no matter the degree of disability, is capable of a life and of a vital relationship with God. Every child must be able to benefit from awakening of faith, and if possible, from religious education, particularly through special catechesis. Each one of us, parents, educators, friends, was concerned that this become a reality. For the first time these findings were expressed clearly, openly and directly to such a large audience.