Ordinary LivesOrdinary LivesThe link
between disability and moral failure is also found se
veral times in the book 
of John
, notably John 5:14 when Christ heals a man unable to walk and tells him “See,bou have been made well! Do not sin any more, so
that 
othing worse happens to you.”
Equating disability with sin or personal unworthiness is only one of several biblical themes that people with disability can find offensive. Eiseland cites incidents where disability becomes, in her words, “virtuous suffering” that pleases God. The tribulations (including disabilities) that Job bore with patience and humility is perhaps the best known example. She also cites the “thorn in the flesh” (2 Cor. 12:7-10) suffered by the Apostle Paul that is interpreted as a sign of God’s blessing of Paul’s missionary work.
Eiesland’s analysis of biblical stories evoked memory bubbles of my own encounters with people who viewed disability through the prism of religion. As a 9-year old child with CP, some of my parents’ friends asked me to pray for them. Prayers were requested for a seriously ill family member, or someone in financial hardship, or simply for a “special intention”.
I couldn’t understand why I was asked to intercede with God until a woman asking for a prayer said my CP was a sure sign of God’s special love for me and He was therefore much more likely to answer my prayers than hers.
Her request came during the time I discovered that I could not hit a baseball as hard and far as my friends, and that my involvement in baseball would be limited to watching from the sideline. Whatever the benefits of my special relationship with God entailed, they did not seem to include hitting home runs. Nine year old children do not spend a great deal of time contemplating the theological underpinnings of their disability. I only knew that the hurt, anger and confusion of being excluded from a baseball team far exceeded whatever happiness I may have derived from my relationship with God.
The relationship apparently ended (or took a turn for the worse) around age 17 when I was seriously considering whether I had a calling to the priesthood. I consulted a priest whose duties included evaluation of young men who wanted to enter the seminary. He told me that CP was a sign that God had special plans for me, and those plans did not include religious studies and ordination. The priest gave no indication of what God might have in store for me. I later discovered that the text from Leviticus was explicitly cited as an impediment to ordination in Roman Catholic Canon law until the mid-1980s.
Eiseland dedicates her book to her aunt and uncle who taught her that “people with disabilities can live ordinary lives.” My feeling is that an ordinary life may be difficult to achieve if others (or yourself) believe that God has a special design for you. Physical therapy and exercise improve my balance and coordination, and speech therapy makes communication with others easier. But why should I engage in these activities which lessen the limitations of CP and improve my chances of living an ordinary life if my CP is evidence of God’s special relationship with me?
I think my best shot at an ordinary life is to attend a church in which I’m comfortable, avoid people who ask me to pray for them, and tell anyone who asks that the passage from Leviticus no longer applies.
My opportunity for an ordinary life is further enhanced if I follow the advice of my friends with CP, some of whom have gone through the same experiences I have. And disability-related organizations can also help. An article in a newsletter of the American Academy of Cerebral Palsy and Developmental Disabilities provided sound advice. In advising doctors how to establish a successful practice for people with disabilities, the co-authors suggested that disability “should be seen as a normal part of human existence and as such, people with disabilities should be treated as people first who happen to have Cerebral Palsy.” This works for me.
This is not to deny the awesome comfort and strength that parents and people with CP can derive from a deep and abiding faith in God. Some of the most poignant (and powerful) stories on web sites such as www.cerebralpalsynetwork@yahoogroups.com are written by parents who rely on the strength of God to help them care for an infant with severe CP. The infant with CP whose breathing and eating is compromised because of seemingly relentless gagging and choking and is cared for by parents whose trust in God is unshakable is one example.
Traditional theologians quarrel with Eiesland’s thesis that the bible is actually dangerous for people with disability. But a liberation theology of disability is gaining acceptance among mainstream theologians. Liberation theology is nuanced and resists summarization. Eiseland begins with the premise that the foundation of Christian theology is the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the all-powerful God who triumphed over death. But rarely, Eiseland states, is the resurrected Christ recognized as a deity whose hands, feet, and side bear marks of profound physical impairment. When Christ presents Himself to His apostles, asking them to place their hands in His wounds, the resurrected Jesus is revealed as the disabled God.
mOrdinary Livesr Woman
iOrdinary Livesv c Dream Dream