Disabilities Awareness
Our friend John Thomas likes to say that he became a member of the United Church of Christ when he flunked out of Methodist Sunday School. I don’t know many of the details of John’s childhood but the story behind the story is that at some point in his youth, he started to go to church with his grandmother instead of his parents and she went to the Church that John has belonged to ever since.
John was labeled as a disabled child early in his life. His cerebral palsy mad it difficult for him to learn to walk and his movements are at times jerky. I don’t know if it is the result of the challenges of schooling and the primitive nature of special education programs when John was a child, or something that is more deeply ingrained in his personality, but John is challenged by some social situations. He speaks a bit more loudly than is appropriate at times. His sense of personal distance is much closer than is comfortable for some people. His conversation sometimes is very direct and lack subtlety.
But John has a good heart, an able understanding of Christianity and the life of the church, and he is a loyal and dear friend.
John is one of many friends who have taught me a great deal about living and working with people who are differently-abled. I know that “disabled” is the popular term, but it doesn’t quite describe people who define themselves not in terms of what they cannot do, but in terms of what they can do. Another friend, who has used a wheelchair for mobility since a bullet fired randomly struck him in the back and left him without the use of his legs when he was five, reminds me frequently that I belong to what he calls the “temporarily-abled,” community. As we age, we all discover limitations. Some of those limitations are physical and others are intellectual. Our memories don’t work as well as they once did. We experience pain in places where we never felt it before. It doesn’t take much time visiting elders in nursing homes to realize that canes, walkers, scooters, wheelchairs and other adaptive devices are probably in all of our futures. In my case, add in eyeglasses and probably before too many more years hearing aids.
The question is not whether or not we will experience disability. The question is how we will define our lives. When U.S. Senator Tim Johnson suffered a stroke, his political opponents were quick to point out what he lost in the stroke. He speaks more slowly and deliberately than was the case before the stroke. What they failed to realize is that speaking and thinking are not the same thing. He still thinks and understands clearly. In some ways his slowness of speech has made him more effective in his job simply because he listens more carefully than before.
The Americans with Disabilities Act was a landmark piece of legislation first signed into law in 1990 by President George H.W. Bush. Among the witnesses to the signing was UCC pastor Harold Wilke, who had no arms, but who was very at home in his own body. When President Bush handed Harold the pen used to sign the act, Harold calmly took it in his toes and blessed the President. Harold also offered the invocation for the day. This is his prayer:
“The festivals of the religious year
show forth new meanings for access and liberation:
In the glory of Easter- the stone rolled away –
we see the barrier removed.
In the wonder of Pentecost the message is heard
understood, and seen by all.
In the liberation of Passover the message is:
‘Let My People Go!’ and the parting of the Red Sea.
In the joy of Advent, God embodies divinity in human form.
“Yet for many persons today –
who are blind or deaf or have mental retardation
or who are in wheelchairs –
the barriers still remain.
The stone is still in place.
The waters are not parted, the way not opened.
The words cannot be heard.
The flame of the Spirit’s tongues cannot be seen,
the message is not understood.
“Proclaiming the message in all languages for today
means using technology or larger print
for persons with visual disabilities,
signing or special sound systems for persons
with hearing disabilities,
image, color, and drama for
people with cognitive disabilities,
architectural access for
people with physical disabilities or who are getting older.
“Let the stone be rolled away!
Let the glorious message be proclaimed truly, in all languages
So all may hear and understand.”
There are those who say that the church shouldn’t be overly involved in social issues, who fear the church becoming too political and too divisive. But there is a part of our religious tradition that is firmly rooted in the call to governments to become more just. Moses standing in front of Pharaoh was a political act, but it was also a religious act. Jesus’ silence in front of Pilate can be seen as a sign o meekness, but it is also a powerful witness to the simple truth that God is more powerful than any human government. Harold Wilke’s consistent call for justice for those who are disabled might be viewed by some as too much mixing of politics and the pulpit. But his work was intensely religious.
Harold died in 2003, but there is much work that remains. As we recognize October as the month of disability awareness, we all need to look at issues of access to all areas of human life and the barriers we construct that limit the participation of people in our society.
I am not the voice of people with disabilities in our community. Those living with disabilities do not need me to speak for them. My role is different. I am called to walk alongside my sisters and brothers as they advocate for themselves. I am called to be a friend and to listen more than I speak.
And I join in the prayers of so many others that our church will continue to extend an extravagant welcome to those who are often seen by the world as limited or handicapped. Surely the fullness of God’s image is shown in the lives of those who have been labeled as disabled.