Saturday, December 5, 1998
Chaplain enjoys challenge of ministering to
the mentally disabled
By Matthew Brady
Knight Ridder Newspapers
DENTON, Texas -- It is a crisp, cool Sunday morning at the
Denton State School.
The grass and trees on the parklike campus shimmer beneath
a clear October sky. Against that backdrop, a ragged line of wheelchairs
slowly wends up the hill to a small, A-frame chapel.
As the line draws closer, the details of the convoy emerge,
and one can see that each wheelchair is as unique as its owner.
One lies flat like a portable bed. Another is customized to
make allowances for a twisted spine and a feeding tube discreetly
tucked beneath a blanket.
In the rear, pushing the last wheelchair, is the Rev. Dennis
Schurter, a thin, angular man of 56.
Schurter's Sunday morning routine has changed little in more
than two decades as chaplain at the school, one of 11 state-run
schools for the severely mentally retarded.
To the casual observer, Schurter's task may seem hopeless.
Higher-functioning residents long ago moved to group homes
in the city. Of the 600 who remain, about 60 attend chapel. Few
of them will understand much of the Gospel beyond "Jesus
loves me."
Yet Schurter is undeterred.
"It's not the kind of place where you grow in numbers,"
he said. "Yet I see growth in caring and relating with love
to one another. The people here have a simple faith, a faith that
is expressed in their love and acceptance of one another -- many
times without questioning, 'Why did this happen to me?' "
Schurter's chapel messages are short and simple. He walks up
and down the aisle as he preaches, making eye contact with each
person, touching them on the shoulder, calling them by name, asking
them simple questions.
The personal contact communicates more than any message.
"You can't use ideas and words," he said. "You
have to use your own presence, your own person."
During the week, he leads Bible studies and coordinates services
for Catholic and non-Christian residents.
Nancy and Jerry Ward of Fort Worth, Texas, are convinced that
Schurter's ministry makes a difference in the life of their daughter,
Dianne.
She is 37, the youngest of three children.
Dianne's brain was damaged while she was still in the womb,
the victim of a time when doctors prescribed medicine to pregnant
women with little knowledge of the consequences to the babies.
Although Dianne's body has matured, her mind has not.
She has an IQ of eight and the functioning abilities of a 16-month-old
infant.
But she can hum along with the church music, and bow her head
for prayer. And she likes getting dressed up for the service and
having ribbons put in her hair.
"Whether she understands about God, I'm not sure,"
Nancy Ward said. "But I feel like the chapel really does
provide for all the residents something that is normal, and I
am thankful they have the opportunity to worship."
Schurter said that God's power in the lives of his people is
apparent to anyone who takes the time to look.
He sees God's love in people such as Robert, a resident who
cannot sit up or use his hands. But he can use a reclining wheelchair
and propel himself with his feet.
"He can't say words, but he hails me and he gives me a
hug by coming up to me and putting his legs around my leg,"
Schurter said. "The outsider looking at this person says,
'Oh, isn't this terrible that this person is so disabled.' But
as you get to know the person, then that person draws you out
of yourself to relate to him or her in a personal way. It is not
an 'Oh, you poor thing' kind of mercy. It is a compassion that
draws us out into the life of the other person."
X X X
(c) 1998, Fort Worth Star-Telegram
Visit the Star-Telegram on the World Wide Web: www.star-telegram.com.
Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.
Send a Letter to the Editor about This
Story | Start or Join A Discussion about This Story
Send the URL (Address)
of This Story to A Friend:
Copyright ©1998,
Abilene Reporter-News / Texnews / E.W. Scripps Publications
|