God Chooses the Unexpected
Photo by Malcolm Lightbody on Unsplash
All people are made in the image of God and have infinite worth. The gospel message is for all people, and individuals of all abilities are welcome in the kingdom of God. Furthermore, all people can be used by God to proclaim His glory. We should listen to the voices of diverse populations, including the voices of those whose intellectual outlook is different than our own.
Throughout scriptural history, God chose the unexpected person to further His plan. God chose to grow His nation through Jacob and not Esau. David, the great-grandson of a Moabite widow, was chosen over his older brothers to become king. God used Esther, a woman known primarily for her beauty, to save the Jewish nation. God has furthered his messages through kings and laborers alike. Each voice brings a unique richness to the gospel message.
This past semester I had the opportunity to open my astronomy class to students with different intellectual abilities (“neurodiverse” students). Little did I know that God would use these remarkable students to demonstrate the extent to which He can use any individual to preach His gospel message. God still chooses the unexpected voice to further His will.
Northwestern College (NWC), where I work, has a program (NEXT) for students with intellectual disabilities. These students can come to campus for two years, audit classes, and live in the dorms. During this program, they learn essential skills to guide them in how to navigate adulthood upon leaving NWC. At the conclusion, these students earn a certificate to document completion.The program benefits not only the students who participate but also the greater campus body, which is confronted with different learning styles and abilities. I confess that it was easy for me—a physics and astronomy professor—to support a program where the likelihood of having one of these students in my classes was low. Students with intellectual disabilities are not often encouraged to audit classes that have a well-earned reputation of being challenging.
Having earned a master’s in education prior to obtaining my physics PhD, I was trained on the importance of classroom inclusion. My choice of academic discipline, however, meant that I could support these theories from afar, or so I thought. This fall I taught astronomy, a general education science class. The NEXT program director asked if I would welcome two students into my course. The time had come for me to live the philosophy I had been espousing, and I agreed to have these individuals audit the class. These two young men had different learning abilities. Ned had more profound learning challenges, and Ben was on the autism spectrum. (I’ve changed their names for privacy.) Ned brought with him an excitement for learning. During my lectures, he would research the topics discussed in the class in more detail. I overlooked the open laptop, knowing he was taking a deep dive into content. He would take pictures of red moons and talk about sunlight in Earth’s atmosphere. I learned later from the men who lived in his dorm that he would sit in the lobby and talk about astronomy with anyone who would engage him. Though I could not assess his learning using traditional methods, Ned was a joy to have in class. Ben was eager to do the right things in class. On the first day, he arrived 45 minutes early. In his case, his autism leads to a black-and-white worldview. He expressed his opinion bluntly and honestly. He also asked questions with the same level of directness. He had no qualms about stopping a lecture to ask theologically challenging questions and would continue until he was logically satisfied. I loved these interruptions.
It was an interesting experience having two class participants with no social filters. The class could be interrupted to allow permission for one of these students to use the facilities. If Ben did not like the style of music another student referred to, they were promptly informed of his opinion. We always knew when Ned found something particularly fascinating. A joyful “wow” would arise upon learning about colliding galaxies. It was amazing how much these students retained. I was humbled as I read statements from them where they accurately described hydrostatic equilibrium and blackbody radiation. These students demonstrated to my class that science is open to anyone who is curious. The wonder of creation is not limited to those with standard intellectual capabilities.
One of the unique aspects of the physics and astronomy classes I teach is the emphasis on understanding science through the lens of faith. I am very intentional about having conversations throughout the semester on the complexities of faith and science. I encourage my students to wrestle with hard questions and uncomfortable answers. I invited my NEXT students to participate in these conversations. I was not sure how to modify theological conversations to aid their understanding, so I didn’t. Ben often asked hard questions. He asked why God would create only one planet with life. Why would God create a universe that is so big when we live on such a small planet? If there were aliens, would God have talked about them in the Bible? Why is there so much that God has not allowed us to know about the universe? He expressed several times that he had been asking these questions for a while and did not want to hear, “Wait until you get to heaven.” His autism gave him such an interesting perspective on the world. He is fiercely logical, opinionated, and direct in his statements. He wanted to understand why God created such a vast universe. He kept probing the purpose of humanity amongst such emptiness. It reminded me of the psalmist, in Psalm 8: 3-6, who proclaimed the beauty of the heavens and the smallness of humanity:
When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—
the moon and the stars you set in place—
what are mere mortals that you should think about them,
human beings that you should care for them?
Yet you made them only a little lower than God
and crowned them with glory and honor.
These questions gave me opportunities to proclaim the glory of God while admitting that I am still seeking answers. Furthermore, other students would join me in expressing their own ideas, deepening the discourse. Ben belonged in these conversations. He had complex questions to ask, and—as God would later reveal—Ben had profound words we needed to hear.
During the final week of class, my students gave presentations on topics of their choice. In order to receive a passing audit for the class, Ben and Ned needed to present as well (using a modified rubric). Ned exuberantly tackled the assignment and presented on black holes. The time came for Ben to present. He shuffled to the front of the classroom and said, “Teacher, sorry I forgot your name, but I did not get anything ready.” I was determined that he would complete the assignment in some form. I told him he could simply talk to the class about what he had learned this semester. Little did I know, God would use this student to preach to us all a few moments later.
Ben stood before the classroom fidgeting at the front desk. Then in his deep and beautiful baritone voice, he began to speak. In the flat affect of an individual with rather severe autism, his presentation became a sermon to the glory of God. I am paraphrasing his statements to the best of my memory.
“We live in a universe that is so big. We only use a tiny fraction of it. For years I could not understand why we would live in such a big universe and only use a tiny little bit of it. It did not make sense to me. In taking this class, I have come to realize that the universe is big because God is big. God is showing us His magnificence through creating a universe that reflects His character. There is so much we do not understand about the universe. We do not know about dark matter. We do not understand dark energy. So too, do we have much to learn about God. The bigness of the universe shows us the bigness of God. I still have many questions, but it is clear to me that the universe could only have been made by a Creator. So this is what I have learned from this class. God is big, God is real, and He made an incredible universe full of mystery. God loves us.”
He finished speaking, looked up at the class, and then down at his feet. The room was silent for a moment, then erupted in applause. Tears ran down my face at the back of the classroom. There is nothing more I could hope for a student to learn from my class, and I was humbled by how God can use anyone to preach His gospel. Part of what made Ben’s words so powerful is that his autism opened his eyes to a beautiful perspective on creation. God used Ben to express that vision to us. We should not only welcome neurodiverse individuals into our classrooms, workplaces, and especially our churches, but recognize that they have insights we need to hear.
After class had wrapped up and I completed the final lecture, I reflected back on Ben’s words. I realized how appropriate it was that he gave this message at Christmas. The people of God have always been diverse. I opened my Bible and re-read the Christmas story in Luke. I saw details that I had previously overlooked. I became aware of the diversity of individuals in the story. What I had failed to absorb previously was not only that God uses people from all walks of life and different socioeconomic and cultural backgrounds to participate in His plan, but that God also used them to preach His good word.
As we reflect on this season, we should take time to listen to different voices. The priest Zechariah and his older barren wife not only bore John the Baptist together, but they proclaimed the glory of God and preached His gospel. Mary, a poor teenage Jewish girl—pregnant out of wedlock—was used to bring the Christ-child into the world. Then she spoke praises to God. The shepherds, blue-collar, ordinary people, were visited by angels and beheld the Christ-child. Afterward, God used them to proclaim the fulfillment of His promise to the community. Anna, a long-widowed old woman, not only spoke to Mary and Joseph, but she continued to preach to others the hope Jesus would bring to the Jews.
We need to be open to the possibility that God may speak through unexpected people. We should intentionally give time for people to speak and proclaim God’s glorious salvation. God chooses the unexpected to preach His word. It might be the young child who asks probing questions about the Christmas story. God may use the lonely window to express timeless wisdom. All people are made in God’s image. Just as Christmas reminds us that God came to save us all, so too should we give a listening ear to anyone through whom God chooses to speak.
Emily Grace is a writer of bad poetry, a runner of slow marathons, the wife of an artist, the mother of two adorable children, and a physics professor at Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa.