Tag: suffering

Why the Body of Christ (people) is Inhospitable to the Disabled

Excerpt from my Book Review Paper of – “Vulnerable Communion: A Theology of Disability and Hospitality”  -by Thomas E. Reynolds

copyright Lisa Colón DeLay © 2010

Caring Stops at Fear

To put it bluntly, the problem lies in the fact that what we hate and fear is personified in a disable person. What we grieve and pity on a grander scale about human existence can be seen in the disabled. What we dread about ourselves, or how the broken world can be, takes on fleshly form, right in front of us, in the acute helplessness of the disabled one.

On a gut level, we realize at some point we too may be helpless and dependent. It seems frightening. We feel weak, inferior, and can be dreadfully aware of our imperfections. We resent being reminded of it. We also fear that grace will not abound for us in these cases. Consequently, we hope the subject does not come up, or that the disabled stay a bit out of view. Disabilities are variations of the vulnerable life that God has given us. They are too, the life he lived out, in human form. It seems a most basic dilemma of human existence is whether there is welcome when it is most needed. Can we can find a safe place to abide, and be with others who recognize us, value us, and empower us to become our best selves. We remain insecure.

Interdependence

Reynolds asserts that the Christian story is, and has been, one of strength coming from weakness, of wholeness emerging from brokenness, and of growth budding from vulnerability. This comes by the grace and almighty power of God. As able-bodied people, we underestimate our need. We admire, idolize, and pursue independence, on all levels.

In contrast, the common good is not achieved unilaterally (individually), or selfishly. The disabled understand experientially what the able-bodied can only know partially, and, by in large, theoretically: we need relationships in order to exist. As we embrace our vulnerability and mature to depend on other, we become more fully human. Weakness, in the interdependence played out as servant host and guest, gives us the privilege of reliance, vulnerability, and the opportunity to pursue abundant life together. It is part of how we develop in trust and faith.

Reynolds delves into theological issues, related to Trinitarian theology. They are discussed in terms of God and his creation, Jesus’ redemption and interaction with humanity, and the Spirit in the context of the Spirit-filled church living as a vulnerable inclusive communion in the redemptive kingdom of God.

Your comments and ideas are encouraged. Please post them.

God and Disability

Nathan, like many who experience Autism, often doesn't like having his picture taken. (Later, he saw this photo, and thought it was funny.)

Currently I am taking a rather fascinating class delving into the topic of God and Suffering, called “The Theology of Suffering.” For my final project, I am taking on a specific topic under that category–Disability.

I’m endeavoring to uncover questions like, “Why does God allow children, and adults, to suffer with disabilities?” “Is disability part of God’s plan, or part of what’s broken and wrong in the world?” “What place do the “disabled” have in “God’s Story”?” “How can care-givers of those with disabilities view this type of suffering in light of what God has done, what he is doing, and what he will do?” And some other questions.

In 2001, when my son started to struggle with a rather severe case of regressive autism, I wondered not just what was going on with him, but why? What was the point? I have to say, it all seemed like a mistake. My faith was shaken; not because I thought I should be able to have the child of my dreams, (this was a sad part of it too,) but because seeing my child suffer so badly made me question what God was really like. After a period of grieving, I had to find out more.

Nathan made a paper Nativity set at Christmas

Our son went from meeting all his developmental milestones ahead of time (rolling over, sitting, walking, talking), to not even answering to his own name for days on end, not reacting to pain in any normal way, not speaking to us, and not even calling us “Mommy” and “Daddy” any longer. I didn’t know where to turn, on many levels, and I wondered why God would want to kill me by breaking my heart, day-by-day, as my son sank into frustration, fear, pain, and despair. At times I felt hopeless.

We don’t live near family, and I’d like to say our church, and other Christians, were helpful, but almost no one reached out in any way that was truly or consistently supportive, or meaningful. Experiencing disability and struggle has a way of isolating us, and creating more hopelessness to wade through.

Instead, the opposite can be true. The disabled have much to teach us about hospitality, a characteristic of God, both individually and as a community.

The primary text I’m reading for my research is Vulnerable Communion: A Theology of Disability and Hospitality by Thomas E. Reynolds. What an interesting book!

Vulnerable Communion: A Theology of Disability and Hospitality -Thomas E. Reynolds

Here are a few nuggets I’ve gathered:

• The “disabled” are a picture of human weakness and vulnerability, from which we can learn about the human condition, and God himself. They teach us about the goal of Reliance, versus our misguided and typical goal of “independence.”

• These people are at the center of God’s love, and made in God’s image, they display attributes of God. They help us to see the true nature of God–One who made himself weaker and vulnerable, and still is vulnerable to us. (This vulnerability is epitomized in the historical event, and saving action of Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross at Calvary.)

• The “disabled” give us the opportunity to learn, practice, and experience hospitality, and “do for God” (Matt: 25:40 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!”)

This is a topic close to my heart. Uncovering more about it has helped me to not just understand my son, and his struggles better, but to understand God, his character, and his intentions.

Now I’m wondering, “Is it time to write a book on this?”

Please leave your thoughts on this topic, or comment in any way.

May God bless your heart,

Lisa


Coping with Pain (The ironic strategy)

 

Why are we so often alone in our pain?

 

There is a terrible irony in the typical human’s response to pain.

Emotional, physical, or mental suffering is most often considered personal, or about one’s self, and so it is dealt with on one’s own.

A suffering person, ready to divulge their pain, may say, “This is hard to say out loud,” or “This is difficult to share with people I don’t know that well.” The pain has been internalized, and taken in, stewed.

We all do it. But now I ask “why?” Habit maybe, yet we do terrible jobs of healing ourselves. Our wounds fester and putrefy.

Outside perspectives, and the gracious love of community offer healing we can never find alone.

I wonder if the broken-ness of this world makes us retract. Maybe a flight/flight instinct is at first to simply be self-preservative. In reality, we are not alone, our pain is not unique. But, the shock, and upset sends us into hiding, or a kind of “hunker in the bunker” mode. The bitter stab, the disappointment, or the awfulness of suffering makes us fear, and mistrust, so we give ourselves no option but to withdraw, and go inward, taking the pain with us. It rarely finds a good exit. Then we lick our festering wounds, in solitude, even as we may curl back unnoticed, behind the dumpsters of the very hospital (a situation) that could being healing, comfort, and hope. Don’t we?

Could pain really be something different altogether, and we might just be misapprehending it far too much?

                         Could it be a way to lead us home?

                                       Is it a way to lead us into each others arms, once again?

Those who have been calmed and gained healing, find that healthy community is the surest way to growth, start invigoration, locate meaningful purpose, and heal hurts. How is it that so many of us suffer quietly, and alone, in the margins?

How very strange that together, we suffer alone! The irony is horribly striking. How awful too, I think, that we’ve also missed something big about others who suffer. We too often shoot our wounded, by condemnation or inattention. Or push them out, somehow, into further isolation. How coarse. How morbid. The God who welcomes the outcast, the wounded, the sick, and the sinner, mingles with them, pulls them in, and is close enough to touch their afflictions, and pass them bread.

Let us think of ways to come out of our own sufferings into the light and healing nature of community with others, God has provided. Beyond that, let us reach out to those isolated, or away from us–those silently hurting. Let us understand that they will try to handle their pain themselves, but they cannot. We can kindly be there, to hear them, offer friendship, and love. But most of all, with or without words, reassure them that no one suffers alone, not any more.

Do you have comments about suffering or isolation?

Please contribute.

If you take this to heart, and do something about it, please share that with us. Thank you.

Welcome New Readers!

Hello Schuylkill News readers. Thank you for coming!

Now we can continue a conversation I broached at the beginning of January. (see more below)

 

If you haven’t read the latest (free) issue of Schuylkill-News, click here to find distribution locations, or do a search for “Schuylkill-News,” on this facebook link, to see the full layout.
 

On this “January Epiphanies” theme, let’s first reflect for a moment on the quote seen in the article:

 

 

“Who can listen to a story of loneliness and despair without taking the risk of experiencing similar pains in his own heart and even losing his precious peace of mind? In short: Who can take away suffering without entering it?”-Henri Nouwen (1932-1996)

I encourage you to leave comments, thoughts, questions, or answer in reply to this question I now pose:

*When has someone entered your life or struggles, to help you. Or, when have you done this for someone else? (Anonymous comments are welcome, too.)

*In your opinion, what are some things we learn from these times of surprising grace?

Faith (the biped Dog)

Faith is confidence in what has not yet been seen. If you don’t know something is impossible, faith can make the impossible possible. Don’t forget about Faith. Be encouraged and Don’t lose heart.

For more information about the inspirational and amazing Faith the Dog, who learned to walk like a human, click here.