Here’s a new (for me) take on a familiar story:

On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being locked where the disciples were for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord…Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.” Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” (John 20.19 – 27, ESV, emphasis mine)

The Lord had a glorified body. He could pass through walls. But…he had the scars! What are the implications of that? I wouldn’t have thought about it before reading this short vignette from Katherine Wolf. Katherine is married to Jay Wolf, son of Dr. Jay Wolf, long-time pastor of First Baptist Church of Montgomery, Alabama. I’ve met the elder Jay. Katherine and Jay were living in Southern California where Katherine was a model while Jay was in law school. She suffered a massive stroke in 2008. Here’s a brief version of their story.

The photos show Katherine and Jay and Penny, the subject of the vignette, with Katherine.

Anyway, back to the vignette, sent in an email on October 22, 2022. Katherine writes:

With only three words, my friend Penny, who has Down Syndrome, recently offered one of the most intriguing and refreshing theological insights on disability I’ve ever heard. When Penny’s mom asked whether Penny thinks she’ll have Down Syndrome in heaven, Penny answered: “Why wouldn’t I?”

She’s right. Why wouldn’t she?! I couldn’t imagine a more perfect version of Penny than the one we have here and now. Heaven couldn’t improve on her.

Every experience of disability is unique and the collective story of disability is unfathomably complex—from congenital to acquired, life-affecting to life-ending, physical to cognitive—so I’m not in the business of prescribing sweeping or simplistic theological answers. But Penny’s response to a vast philosophical question invited me into a new way of approaching the tangled knot of suffering, sovereignty, healing and hurt.

Will I be “typically abled” after this life—my cerebellum restored, my face animated again, my balance regained, by double vision unified? I don’t know. But I do think the more relevant question is, why would ability matter in a place of complete and unconditional belonging and belovedness? – Katherine Wolf, hopeheals.com

I don’t know the answer either nor the implications, but Penny’s “Why wouldn’t I?” gives one pause.

But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 19.14, ESV)