I’ve been thinking a lot about three realities of the human experience lately:
We learn through the ways we resonate with each other.
We cannot compare our lives, but we sometimes relate to each other.
All people want to be understood and feel like they belong somewhere.
We are living in times ripe for the history books. Most of us have been weighing questions on topics ranging from the effects of isolation to medical vulnerability, racial equity and religious freedoms. Leaders in the disability movement are keenly aware of overlaps and similarities among the issues at hand.
I’m hoping the intersection of themes within different groups will not be lost on us. I’ve been praying that God would use this season to grow us into more compassionate and courageously engaged people. I’m pleading with Jesus to transform the Church and make us a stronger family of God.
I appreciate that we need to be very careful and sensitive when we talk about how one person might relate to another person’s life experience. Does it seem fair for me to say that I understand something about the life of a dad raising a son with Down Syndrome, when I’m a mom raising a daughter with Angelman Syndrome? Certainly there are some common things about our parenting experiences that are more similar to each other than to a parent who has only neurotypical children. When my daughter Carly has a meltdown in public, I can appreciate the frustration and embarrassment any other parent might feel. But I cannot fully relate to the added fear and vulnerability experienced by a black mom or dad whose adult son with autism is having a similar meltdown while on a walk in their neighborhood, going to the park or grocery shopping. That situation, due to stereotypes and misunderstanding, may trigger a 911 call from someone peering through their living room window, or looking on from the produce aisle. We can all benefit from appreciating some commonalities without taking the comparisons too far.
My point is that we desperately need to start appreciating our uniquenesses and enjoying how interconnected we are. A tapestry is beautiful because threads are woven together in combination. It isn’t even a useful fabric if each thread lays limp and alone in a box. If our lives don’t intersect, we’re just a globe spotted with individuals.
Photo credit: Birmingham Museums Trust, tapestry of Peter and John at the Beautiful Gate, 1600-1650, from Unsplash.com.
These are exceedingly challenging times. Individuals, families, churches, businesses, and governments are wrestling to survive and work together. Conversations on matters like the pandemic, racial relations, disability inclusion, health care reform, abortion and euthanasia should cause us to dig deep into the heart of God for perspective, wisdom and insight. Our passions will be stirred. Will our compassion also grow? Will we allow God to use these conversations to draw us closer to Him and to each other?
Individuals and families impacted by disability have fallen even further down the priority lists of many churches today. The crisis of 2020 has put many ministry on their heels, running a different race than they ever expected to run. Many are just starting to discover what a marathon it’s going to be—not the sprint they hoped to quickly finish. Alas, this too can be a point of opportunity for resonance!
Every special needs parent knows what it’s like to absorb the shock of discovering they have been thrown into an unexpected marathon. Could it be that pastors are feeling a bit “disabled” right now? Could it be an opportunity for churches to deepen their appreciation for the dilemma of the special needs family?
What is the opportunity for the family of God as we look toward 2021 in an ongoing pandemic and cultural crisis?
Be like Jesus. Let’s slow down. Develop compassion. Be intentional. Position ourselves among the hurting and helpless. Do the Bible.
Celebrate individuality and community. Richness and fullness of life comes from understanding our similarities as well as our differences, starting from our deepest places of need. Let us not say things like, “I don’t see color,” or “I don’t see disability.” Let Christians be known for seeing each other, really seeing. Let us be known for understanding our common depravity, and celebrating each other and our inherent value to God.
Avoid stereotyping. Let’s be more aware of what we’re believing about others. When we see a tall young man with dark skin, do we assume he is good at basketball? When we see a non-verbal woman with Angelman Syndrome, do we assume her development has plateaued and her ability to engage in church or community life is limited? Let’s hang out with Jesus more—in prayer, scripture, worship—so we absorb His perspectives and so that His manner of interacting is more intuitively reflected in how we behave toward each other. Let’s hear more sermons that help us see Jesus in action and inspire us to be more like Him.
Recognize that nobody wants to be misunderstood. Parents of children with special needs often feel “put in a box” and sense that they will be overwhelming to others. Siblings of someone with disabilities don’t always feel confident that they matter as much in their family or their church as their higher-need sibling matters. What can the family of God do to help others feel understood, known and highly valued?
Let Jesus’ call, not our level of comfort, guide how and with whom ministry happens. Many people choose churches based on where we enjoy the style of music, where we like the pastor’s personality or where the teaching aligns with our theology. Families impacted by disability rarely get this “luxury.” They go where a church is willing and able to support them, or they don’t go at all. In some cases, they go where it will not be comfortable because they sense God’s call to help educate a particular church and stretch that church’s reliance on the Holy Spirit to go where Jesus would always go—into the messy world of disability. Jesus always calls the church to engage fully with people who are disabled.
Hold an opportunity mindset. God’s Word insists that God’s love is generous and consuming. God’s Word assures us that the power of the Holy Spirit resides within a believer. We can do life and ministry in anticipation of the surprises of that love and power. Allow me to suggest you go back and read all of Ephesians 3, not just the more familiar parts at the end.
The holiday season of 2020 may feel uncomfortable, and the vision for 2021 may come with hesitation. God’s answer to it all is found in community—loving and celebrating Him, loving and celebrating each other. For all of the things that differentiate us, Christ's blood and the image of God unite us.
Lisa Jamieson is a caregiver consultant, pastoral counsellor and author of popular books and Bible studies including Finding Glory in the Thorns and Jesus, Let’s Talk. Lisa and her husband, Larry, live in Minnesota with the youngest of their three grown daughters, Carly, who has Angelman Syndrome. Together, the Jamiesons founded Walk Right In Ministries in 2008, a non-profit organization building faith and community with special needs families.
