I need to lose some weight.
I’ve put on my fair share of added pounds over the Thanksgiving to Christmas rush, but I am also guilty of some stress eating over the last few months. I know I could stand to lose 10 or 15 pounds, if not more, so as the new year begins, I am resolving to walk more, watch what I eat, and limit the amount of candy I leave on my desk.
I am resolving to make this a better year for my health.
I feel like I say that almost every year. I know I need to lose weight. I know that I don’t need to eat that Big Mac. I know the candy on my desk is more for me than for others. I will put in a strong effort for a few weeks. I’ll eat more salads. I’ll make time to go for a walk around my neighborhood. I’ll avoid the candy aisle at my local grocery store.
Image from Unsplash, @explorewithjoshua
Eventually, though, I’m back to my old habits. I’ll use fatigue and stress as an easy excuse to eat that Big Mac. I’ll blame my schedule as the reason why I don’t go for a walk. My love for Reece’s Pieces will consume me. Before I know it, I’m back to my old habits, even though I had all the best intentions.
Sound familiar?
We will have the best intentions of doing something new and beneficial but give up when doing something new becomes difficult. Those well-intended commitments get lost when we become overwhelmed and, thus, return to our usual way of thinking and living.
I believe this is true not only for our health or New Year resolutions, but also for how we practice welcome and inclusion of individuals and families living with various visible and invisible disabilities. This is especially the case for smaller churches or churches starting in disability ministry.
We will get excited about the possibilities of welcoming people with disabilities and recognize how the church often excludes them. We will have big dreams about reshaping our sanctuaries and worship centers to make them more accessible. We will commit ourselves to practices that build community and grace.
Eventually, though, challenges will come towards building a more welcoming community for individuals and families. A dedicated or well-connected church member will complain about the changes that are taking place and make accusations that people will leave if further changes happen. Someone will get nervous about the cost or get upset about the “noise” in the sanctuary. Before too much longer, the momentum to build an inclusive church fades away, and the church returns to its familiar practices while unintentionally excluding individuals and families with disabilities.
Sound familiar?
Just like our resolutions to create better health, our well-intended desires for inclusion in the church can get overtaken by the pressure that will come to do things “as they always have been done.” We like familiarity. We do not like change, even if that change will lead to a more Christ-like community.
When our ministries face challenges to return to more familiar practices when leading change or building a more inclusive church, we have to remember Paul's encouragement to persevere. Paul routinely writes about the need for the church to persevere through the challenges that will come and to keep our focus on living the Christ-centered mission and purpose in our activities, such as in Romans 5:1-5. There Paul expresses how perseverance is part of a series of characteristics that flows from God’s love in our lives.
Perseverance, the commitment to push forward through the challenges and storms of life, is needed in the church, especially in our conversations about creating a more inclusive community for individuals with disabilities and their families. It will look different in various circles and communities. In general, I believe the commitment to perseverance will encourage leaders and those committed to the ministry to recognize that challenges will come, learn from them, and keep the focus on what is most important in its mission.
It is easy to give up when the challenges come our way, and I am as guilty about it as anyone else. Yet, if we want to build a more welcoming community, then, committing to persevere through the challenges will be necessary to living the Christ-centered vision of welcome and inclusion.
Shannon Blosser is a United Methodist pastor serving in West Virginia. He writes on how the church, especially the small church, can be more effective in its inclusion of individuals and families with disabilities. He is a father of an autistic child. You can follow him on Facebook and Threads. He posts, as well, at shannonblosser.com
