I was away for several days this past week due to speaking at a faith and science conference. My paper focused on traumatic brain injuries, neuroplasticity, and human flourishing. The conference was hosted by Pentecostal Theological Seminary in Cleveland, Tennessee as part of a grant initiative the seminary is doing through the American Association for the Advancement of Science’s DoSER program titled “Science for Seminaries.” Theologians and scientists came together to make it an extremely meaningful event. In all my years of research, nothing has come so close to home as this topic. It was incredibly cathartic to present my paper on this subject and weave together scientific and theological reflections with meditations on Christopher and our family’s experiences. The keen interdisciplinary responses, encouragement, and care of those gathered for the talk was so life-giving. Hopefully, I passed “the audition,” to quote John Lennon.
Having been away for several days, I couldn’t wait to see Christopher in his rehabilitative care facility Thursday evening. It was an amazing time together with my son. He responded to various prompts. I can’t recall such responsiveness in over a year plus of connecting with him following his injury. It has been a long time coming and there is such a long time to come of hopeful and meaningful recovery. I have included a link to the video of what I observed this Thursday evening at my son’s bedside. You can find it at the close of this post.
Again, it was an incredible experience. Our medical consultant Dr. Potter, who has been with us from the very beginning of the ordeal, wrote after viewing the video: “Very impressive response.” He also encouraged me to “Keep working on commands to which he can respond.” Absolutely!
As you watch the video, you may hear tunes from Hillsong United, the Beatles, and the Stones, as they are playing in the background. You might hear my son’s roommate making various sounds backstage. You will also hear me fumbling for words as I try to accompany Christopher, goofing up in my excitement in naming the Beatles: “George, Paul, George, and Ringo.” Hopefully, Lennon was not offended.
The Beatles’ song was “Get Back” taken from the rooftop performance at their Apple Corps. Headquarters in London, January 1969. It was their last live performance as the Fab Four. Here is the recording of the song. At the end of the concert, as mentioned above, John Lennon said to the gathered crowd on rooftops and the streets below that he hoped the band had passed the audition. You can watch it here.
In addition to Christopher moving his arm outward toward me (rather than inward toward his neck and body), which the neurologist and Dr. Potter told us is evidence of conscious activity, Christopher gave me a very rigorous ‘thumbs up’ to liking the Beatles song. It was reminiscent of his ‘thumbs up’ when I asked him if he wished to celebrate Jaylah’s birthday next year with her in person. You will see the arm movement and ‘thumbs up’ on the video.
Surely the Beatles passed their audition, as did Christopher. I referenced Lennon’s statement on hoping to pass the audition that closed out the recording we heard the other night and said to Christopher: “You’ve passed the audition tonight, Christopher! Good job!”
To the untrained observer, Christopher’s movements may appear to be amateurish. A thumbs up? Movement of the arm until he touches my hand? Really? That’s passing an audition? How can I compare that with the Beatles rooftop concert? And yet, in an analogous manner to the people who climbed ladders to get up on rooftops and who stood on the sidewalks below in the January London air to watch and listen to the Beatles for over forty minutes, people have watched, read, and listened to me share about Christopher for over a year now. No doubt, it is due to their/your incredible compassion and empathy. No doubt, it is the result of their/your sacrificial care. But I think there is also something here to be said for resilience. Christopher has by no means given up. While the Beatles would never perform live again, I pray that Christopher will give live performances for many, many years to come as he reemerges from his traumatically brain injured state. My son is a one of-a-kind warrior. The dude’s got resilience running through his veins as he jams for life. And for those who have traveled with us on this tour on life support over the past year and beyond, you are resilient, too. There’s no doubt about that.
Human flourishing entails what Stephen Hawking said of intelligence: “Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change.” That claim’s quite staggering given that Hawking was one of the world’s leading theoretical physicists who also had a disability that eventually paralyzed him. Someone shared that quote with me after my talk at the recent conference. I won’t ever forget it, as it applies so well to Christopher and to all of us as we adapt to life-altering circumstances.
Yes, the Beatles passed their musical audition on that rooftop, as they adapted to a change of conditions from being inside a studio to being out in the January cold, and as the group struggled to stay together in the face of internal tension and conflict. While Christopher’s bedridden performance was not nearly as exquisite, it was as electrifying to me as the Beatles’ jam session. Just think where Christopher has come from and what Christopher continues to cope with internally to move his arm and his thumb! Let me add that earlier in the week, he gave a preview of things to come—he slowly sat up to nearly a ninety-degree angle for his mother. I’m now calling out for an encore!
The Beatles, Christopher, you, and I are auditioning on life’s stage. How will we perform? To commandeer Hawking’s line, flourishing entails the ability to adapt to change. How are we doing with what we’ve been given? How are we adapting in the face of changing external conditions and internal conflicts and tensions? You don’t have to be a hallowed theoretical physicist like Hawking or rock legends like the Beatles to be intelligent, to be resilient, and to flourish. To riff off the lines of the Beatles’ song “Get Back,” like Christopher, let’s “get back” and keep moving forward to the best of our ability to where we “belong.”
To read the various reflections involving our journey with Christopher and TBI over the past year plus, please go to this link. Thank you for your interest and prayers.
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