How the church casts aside disabled folks from community and ways to do better.
Today’s post is an article I wrote for Christians for Social Action (CSA). You can read the edited version here. I have included the unedited version below.
The words from the apostle Thomas uttered days after the resurrection rest in infamy. His disbelief that Jesus had in fact returned to life—conquering death—left him understandably skeptical.
“Unless I see in his hands the holes from the nails, and put my finger into those holes, and put my hand on his side, I’ll never believe.”
A day or two later, Jesus magically appears at another clandestine gathering. This time Thomas is in the room. Jesus approaches him and says,
“Put your finger here. Look at my hands. Put your hand into my side. Don’t disbelieve but believe!”
Thomas echoes a common posture that many non-disabled people adopt: we demand proof before belief. Oftentimes we are skeptical of the legitimacy behind disability claims, accepting only commonly understood forms. Even if there is some form of acceptance, we tend to ignore the personhood of disabled folks, reducing their existence to “disabled”.
We are all formed in an ableist society that creates a world of norms through a non-disabled lens. Any body that circumvents these norms is met with suspicion and othering. The question for Christians is: in what manner are our worldviews shaped through the example of Jesus? A critical clue in Thomas’ enchanting encounter with Christ’s resurrected body demands our attention.
Christ’s resurrection is a testament to a triumph over the death dealing ways of empire. He also chose to reveal his resurrected self in a very specific body. We might assume this body was perfect, and in a sense it was. By retaining the deep wounds in his hands and side, Jesus specifically chose a disabled body as his resurrected form. An embodied and subversive act echoing the legacy of “the last shall be first and the first last….”
And I reflect, in which manner do churches embody Christ’s disabled body? Are the needs articulated by disabled folks—the bodies through whom the resurrected Christ is revealed—part of core values? Does disability justice (a particular movement that centers racialized, queer, gender minoritized disabled people) inform church function and belief? Or do we take the place of Thomas before setting eyes on the resurrected Lord, stymied in our refusal to truly see the value in one another?
The failures in the contemporary church to build spaces of belonging that include and are led by disabled folks became even more apparent as the COVID-19 pandemic proliferated across the globe. We found out almost instantaneously how few churches were committed to rallying toward important health measures like vaccine adoption, clean air (filtration) policies, and widespread mask usage. These tools can not only keep neighborhoods and congregations safer, but enable immunocompromised, and other disabled folks, the opportunity to continue participating in community. Yet we have made a world in which belonging for marginalized folks is something that must be fought for.
In the instance of the still ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, many churches have changed, but for the worse, adopting nefarious anti-vaxx identities, eliminating any prospect of immunocompromised people safely accessing church gatherings. The more common response from churches in the rapid return to “normal” Sunday services was simply no changes at all. The disinterest to embody basic access that would not only benefit vulnerable persons (and we can add babies and small children, older adults and pregnant people, and more in this mix), but the community as a whole. Instead, we have perpetuated the cycle of disease spreading of respiratory illnesses, that has effectively excluded immunocompromised, and other disabled folks from churches. Not to mention continued a cycle of harm for all people. In this current pandemic age, the ways disabled people can fully belong in church community is littered with insurmountable obstacles seen as an individual issue rather than a collective problem. But that’s not something new to those seeking justice.
The “at-best” response included the expansion of online services at churches with the resources and desire. A sliver of connection for those who “chose” to forgo in-person gatherings. Yet this accommodation is another example of centering the comfort of the many by excluding the needs of the few. What is sadly more important, as evidenced by the numerous conversations I had with ministers rushing to reclaim Sunday morning services way back in 2020, is to cater to the desires of the majority. In practice churches err on the side of the majority, not the few; the paying members, not the disenfranchised. In other words, the values within the church look no different inside than they do outside, where the adherence to capitalist demands for unabated production remain supreme. (Some could even argue that churches specifically in America are more antagonistic to disabled communities because they worked so hard to exempt themselves from the provisions of accessibility outlined in the Americans with Disabilities Act.)
Belonging for disabled folks, both visible and invisible, remains in short supply. And the difficulty surrounding these particular injustices is the magnitude preference and design caters to the able-bodied gaze first and the margins last. A collective choice that’s directly opposed to Christ’s foundational teachings of the last shall be first, and the first last….
Where do we go from here?
The likelihood of churches pivoting from the ‘golden calf’ of Sunday services is low. However, the incremental shift towards a more inclusive community that is fully welcoming to disabled folks can happen (and already does in many churches on the margins). Regarding respiratory illnesses proliferating during church services, mitigation measures are within reach. Adding multiple air-filters in a space is a simple solution. Widespread mask wearing ultimately an excellent choice to mitigate respiratory illnesses.
There are additional starting points that denominations and churches may consider in the effort to engage the subject of disability justice*. They include:
1. Theological reconfiguration that no longer treats disabilities as somehow tied to sin, lack of faith/belief, or not trying hard enough in some other way, and that understands the “spiritual condition” of disabled folks is unrelated to physical healing.
2. The design of justice oriented community actions and policies must be created by disabled folks for disabled folks, and not able-bodied folks doing what they think is “best”.
A shift in social norms and Christian formation is necessary to acknowledge that every one of us will one day inherit disabilities, many disabilities are not physically visible, and our churches are generally built for non-disabled bodies and therefore rooted in exclusion. Yet adjustments that move toward disability justice (and wider justice initiatives) draw closer to the kingdom realities ushered in by Christ’s resurrection.
What Does Inclusive Church Community Look Like?
Folks seeking justice oriented churches that focus on building safe and inclusive spaces across intersections including disability, know this—these spaces exist. Yet it is also true that churches who practice centering marginalized voices to co-create renewed community gatherings are in short supply. Shifting towards values where all can belong in practice is difficult in churches where uniformity prevails.
Despite my earlier misgivings, there are a number of online options for justice oriented churches that routinely gather, especially important for those who have less mobility and/or are isolated. Life saving connections can be built online, and count just the same as in-person, yet simultaneously reflect the brokenness in our communal realities where disabled body participation in most spaces remains an afterthought.
And I reflect. In what manner has shifting our collective gaze away from possibilities of radical inclusion limited our own connection to the possibilities of resurrected community? Consider this the next time you participate in the Eucharist, where the body is broken for you, and remains “broken” in resurrection, a symbol of possibilities yet to come in our future.
*These suggestions are based on the work of the late Nancy Eiesland, ??The Disabled God: Toward a Liberatory Theology of Disability.
Additional book recommendations include:
Amy Kenny’s, My Body Is Not a Prayer Request: Disability Justice in the Church; and Lamar Hardwick’s, Disability and the Church: A Vision for Diversity and Inclusion.
Bio: Rohadi is the author of five books including the forthcoming Whole & Human. Forty Meditations for Liberating Body and Spirit, and the 2022 release, “When We Belong. Reclaiming Christianity on the Margins.”. He serves part-time as a vocational minister and lives in Canada, on Treaty 7 Lands, in Calgary, Alberta.
He produces the Faith in a Fresh Vibe Podcast, the most recent serial series called “Farewell Evangelicalism”. Visit his website: www.rohadi.com or his Substack. Threads: @rohadi.nagassar; Instagram: @rohadi.nagassar; and Bluesky