A Valueless Life?

At what point does a life become valueless? Many voices have given an answer to this question throughout the generations. During World War II phrases were thrown around like, “they were killed because they had handicaps... useless eaters...unworthy of living...individuals lower then beasts.” In ancient Rome babies would often be left to die if they were “illegitimate, unhealthy or deformed, the wrong sex, or too great a burden on the family.”

Move out of the realm of history and we are left to sort through our own personal perceptions of life - an unborn child tests likely to be born with Down’s Syndrome, a stroke leaves a family member with a very uncertain future, a parent suffers with Alzheimer’s, your life becomes connected with the disabled. As he has at other times in the past Phil Yancey gives helpful insight:

“At times, despite our best efforts to honor other’ pain, we encounter suffering that seems utterly devoid of meaning. I am thinking specifically of a man with Alzheimer’s disease; the daughter tries to tend to his needs, but every day her heart is broken by the sad shell of what used to be her father. Or I think of the severely disabled child with an IQ in the 30-40 range. The child may live a long life lying motionlessly in a crib, unable to talk, unable to comprehend, soaking up hours of expensive professional care.

“‘What is the point of their lives? Do their lives have any meaning?’ asked Dr. Jurgen Trogisch, a pediatrician who works with the severely mentally handicapped.

“For many years Dr. Trogisch could not answer the question of meaning. Then he ran an introductory course to train new helpers, and at the end of the one year training period, he asked the helpers to fill out a survey. Among the questions was this one, ‘What changes have taken place in your life since you became totally involved with disabled people?’

“Here is a sampling of their answers:
• For the first time in my life I am doing something really significant.
• I feel I can now do things I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of before.
• I am more responsive now to human suffering and it arouses in me the desire to help.
• It’s made me question what is really important in life.
• I’ve become more tolerant. My own little problems don’t seem so important any longer, and I’ve learned to accept myself with all my inadequacies. Above all I’ve learned to appreciate the little pleasures of life.

“As Dr. Trogisch read over these and other responses, he realized with a start the answer to his question. The meaning of suffering of those children was being worked out in the lives of others, his helpers, who were learning lessons no sophisticated educational system could teach.”