Ben puts on his three piece suit before coming downstairs on Sundays. He may not know what is happening in Europe but he never loses track of when church is. Since the twins were headed to camp and John was preaching it was just the two of us in the pew. We got there in time for him to listen to the pipe organ. He likes pipe organs.

"It is the loudest instrument of all!" he told me in the middle of a prelude. 

A family came in and sat behind us. They have a son with a disability, and he popcorned from one seat to another every few seconds. He bumped me on the way but I didn't mind. We are both in the club. A young man slid into the row in front of me. He too has learning challenges, but holds down a job and rides public transportation. Across the aisle a woman sat with her granddaughter who is also special, and behind them were the aunt and uncle of a man with Down's syndrome. It felt like a meeting of our New Church Challenge group. 

The talk was about how innocence is both gentle and powerful. It can protect you in a way that grandiosity never can. While it is true that babies and small animals are helpless, they have a unique capability to inspire protectiveness in others. That kind of strength can move mountains, or at least a dresser, like when one fell on my toddler as she was climbing the drawers. I am not a strong person but in that moment... I was. 

Benjamin's autism comes with some perks. He wastes no time wondering if he is popular. That frees up afternoons for reruns of Bob the Builder, and seconds on potato chips. He has never expressed concern about politics, which is gobbling up an exorbitant amount of otherwise useful hours for a few people lately. 

I went out with an aunt whose son had his own physical limitations. She told me she could not comprehend how he managed on his own. Laundry, stairs, dishes, changing the sheets all seemed impossible for him after his stroke. Yet he had friends before he died. Lots of them. 

"He told me once that it was a good thing he was born the way he was. If he had been "normal" he was pretty sure he would have been a jerk."

John told a story in the sermon about a man wearing a two thousand dollar suit. He was in a car crash and when the paramedics arrived they had not the merest regret in ripping it off to administer medical attention. It was nothing but clothes. 

One day Benjamin, and the boy behind us, and the girl across the aisle will also step out of bodies that are too constricting. And he for one will be even gladder than he is with a whole bag of chips to himself. 

Plus I bet God will give him a really nice suit.