‘Together with Jesus, we can do anything,’ Bishop Beckman says in his homily at St. John Neumann
By Bee Goodman
Some rooms are built for everyone, and some rooms are built for a few people in particular. The gymnasium at St. John Neumann School in Farragut was the second kind on the Bishop’s Very Special Day, and every choice made in it, down to the volume of the music, was made with someone specific in mind.
Bishop Mark Beckman celebrated the Mass that opened the day, and almost nothing about it was left to default. Sign-language interpreters stood near the sanctuary the whole time, translating the readings and prayers as they were spoken. The music ministry pared itself down to a handful of instruments, keeping the sound gentle rather than full. Incense, a fixture of most Masses, didn’t appear at all. None of it was an afterthought. That was the point.
Bishop’s Very Special Day is a diocesan celebration for individuals with special needs and their families. The day begins with Mass, followed by skits, arts and crafts, music, and lunch.
In his homily, Bishop Beckman returned to a memory from his years as a pastor, when he once asked a group of schoolchildren at Mass if they knew what a “yoke” was. Their answer was the one he expected: an egg yolk. But he had something else in mind, the wooden yoke Jesus references in the Gospel, the kind still used in parts of the world where two animals are harnessed side by side to pull a plow. “Come to me, all you who are weary… and I will give you rest,” he said, recalling the passage. “Take my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart.”
Bishop Beckman described picturing himself carrying that yoke alongside Jesus, whatever the burden happens to be. “Together with Jesus, we can do anything,” he told the congregation, before turning to John the Baptist, who once doubted from prison whether Jesus truly was who he claimed to be, and sent followers to ask Him directly. Jesus’ answer, the bishop noted, pointed to the blind seeing, prisoners set free, and the brokenhearted healed, proof enough for John of a gentleness he hadn’t expected. Bishop Beckman closed by asking the congregation to let John the Baptist’s example guide their own response that day. “Each one of us today, He’s inviting us to come to Him,” he said, “and find there the true refreshment that our soul is seeking.”
From there the day moved into lunch, then into something with considerably more noise: a pep rally called Rally for Jesus, led musically by Katie Helm, a volunteer who has been part of these events for years. Around the room, several activity tables waited for anyone who needed a quieter minute, each one designed with sensory sensitivities in mind, so that stepping away from the rally never meant stepping away from the day.
This year the event carried a new name behind it. The Diocese of Knoxville Special Friends (DKSF) sponsored the Very Special Day for the first time as a ministry in its own right. It didn’t start as anyone’s grand plan. According to longtime volunteer Julie Radachy, it grew the way a lot of good things in a parish grow: out of people who had already found something they loved and wanted more of it.
“The DKSF was founded organically as past participants in Bishop’s Very Special Day wanted more opportunities to connect during the year,” Ms. Radachy said.
The ministry now runs events throughout the year, with a schedule posted on the diocesan website, but Ms. Radachy is quick to point out that the calendar of events isn’t really what the ministry is for. It’s for what happens at the events.
“Having these events allows those with special needs and their families in our diocese to connect and enjoy time together,” she said. “Our special friends have the opportunity to make friendships with others in attendance, and their families are able to connect, develop friendships, and offer support to each other as well.”
She sees the diocese’s role in it as a two-way exchange rather than a service handed down. “The diocese as a whole is able to offer their gifts and talents to make the event successful,” Ms. Radachy said, pointing to this year’s ASL interpreters and musicians, along with Ms. Helm and the volunteers who kept the day running. “They helped make the Bishop’s Very Special Day extra special.”
What made this year different wasn’t just DKSF’s name on the sponsorship. It was the sense, said Ms. Radachy, that the ministry is still growing into what its participants want it to be, one event and one conversation at a time. The Bishop’s Very Special Day has always drawn families back year after year, but DKSF exists now to carry that connection past a single afternoon and into the rest of the calendar.
That showed up in small ways throughout the day. Volunteers who had served at past Bishop’s Very Special Days returned this year, some in the same roles, some in new ones. Ms. Radachy herself attended with a bit of company: her dog, Bella, a certified H.A.B.I.T. (Human-Animal Bond in Tennessee) therapy dog, making her first appearance at the event. Ms. Radachy described Bella’s role there simply: “She is a calming presence for and shares God’s love with those who have special needs. She will patiently wait for people to pet her if they so desire, and she knows just who needs her and for how long.” Moving quietly through the crowd, Bella offered the kind of company that doesn’t need words.
But the day’s real center stayed exactly where it started, in a Mass built around the people it was meant for, and in a room afterward that never stopped moving. Among the rally, the lunch tables, and the quieter sensory stations along the wall, there was no single way to spend the Bishop’s Very Special Day. There were only the ways each person there chose for themselves, and a diocese that had spent the whole day making sure that choice was possible.