In Stanley Hauerwas’ book, Suffering Presence, which is a collection of theological reflections related to the world of medicine, he begins one of his chapters by describing the scene of an educational film in the 1980s. The camera zooms in on parents hovering over their newborn child in a crib. An experience that should elicit joy has clearly been replaced with shock and disappointment by the look on their faces. Then Hauerwas describes what happens next:
“They [the parents] turn towards us and the man speaks: ‘Don’t let this happen to you. Our child was born retarded.1 He will never play the way other children play. He will not be able to go to school with other children. He will never have an independent existence and will require us to care for him throughout his and our lifetime. Our lives have been ruined. It is too late for us but not for you.’”2
The scene continues with the mother saying: “Don’t let what happened to us happen to you. Be tested early if you think you are pregnant… Please do not let this happen to you—prevent retardation.”3
Strikingly, movies like this were sponsored by the American Association of Retarded Citizens, a group organized to advocate for people with various forms of disability. Yet what is astounding about the message of the film is the call to “prevention” but with the impossible assumption of being able to “eliminate” the diagnosis (e.g. Down Syndrome) without also eliminating the person. There are very few situations related to disability that can be treated like a cancer diagnosis, yet this film seems to conflate these medical realities as synonymous.
Almost three years ago, my third child was born to our surprise with Down Syndrome. Although no doctor or nurse gave us a lecture like the movie above, the recurring question we received from almost every medical professional was: “Did you participate in prenatal testing?” The intended or unintended message to us as parents sitting with our beloved son in the NICU for almost an entire month was:
Why would you bring a child like this into the world?
During this month, Summit is highlighting the issue of abortion in the United States. In this article, my desire is not to develop a philosophical argument related to this complicated issue but rather to encourage you to develop proximity with a group of image-bearers who are staggeringly affected when it comes to the reality of abortion. One study from 2012 concluded that 67 out of every 100 children who have a prenatal diagnosis of Down Syndrome are aborted.4 With the increasing realities of mandated prenatal screenings in many countries, we are in danger of eliminating a group of men and women who have so much to offer our world.5
For the rest of this article, I would like to challenge those who follow Jesus to consider not just saving lives but also stewarding the lives of those with various forms of disability. From my vantage point, there are two threats seeking to sabotage the church’s witness of being a people who celebrate life from womb to tomb.
Threat 1: Sentimentalism
The movie Peanut Butter Falcon tells the story of a man named Zak (played by Zack Gottsagen) who has Down Syndrome and runs away from a nursing home in the southern swamps of America. In his escape, Zak runs into a vagabond named Tyler (played by Shia LaBeouf) and after some initial conflict, they quickly become friends. The movie beautifully showcases a contrast in how Zak is treated. Before his escape, Zak was living at a state-assisted nursing home, where he and the others who live there are clearly treated as if they are not capable of much and should be babied and protected. The character who represents this approach is named Eleanor (played by Dakota Johnson). In other words, Zak is treated with a level of “sentimentalism” by the State. But Tyler challenges this faulty vision by expecting Zak to be a capable human being who can learn and do meaningful things.
Our starting place should not be what these individuals will “never” do, but rather to recognize the unique and powerful gifts every individual has been stewarded with amidst their disability
If the people of God are to be proponents of life from womb to tomb, we must adamantly resist sentimentalism in all of its forms when it comes to those with disabilities. Like the sterile educational films of the 1960s6 related to disability, our starting place should not be what these individuals will “never” do, but rather to recognize the unique and powerful gifts every individual has been stewarded with amidst their disability. Sentimentalism is an act of convenience that assumes a caricature of another human being without actually getting to know them and discovering what they have to offer. But sentimentalism has a close relative that also hinders the Church’s witness when it comes to celebrating every life: success.
Threat 1: “Success”
The stories we tell reveal the things we value most. Interestingly, in the West we are obsessed with telling story after story of people with disabilities who “overcame” their condition and achieved America’s version of “success.” Whether it’s the story of an intellectual or physical accomplishment, we love to highlight these individuals as icons of the American Dream. Another way to translate this reality is: “We will celebrate and include you if you can adapt to look, act, and do things like us. If you can become ‘normal.’” To be clear, I am not arguing to dismiss the incredible physical and intellectual accomplishments of those with disabilities, but rather to be curious about whom we showcase and whom we overlook. The idolatry of success threatens to blind us from the latent potential and gifting of many with disabilities who don’t appear to possess the “typical” skills of their peers.
Conclusion:
The integrity of our witness as the church demands that we must not only be concerned about what happens in the clinic, but also who belongs to our communities. Without the meaningful contributions of those with disabilities within our churches, we fail to display the fullness of God’s kingdom. Lesslie Newbigin says:
For it is only when the witness of [those with disabilities] is an integral part of the witness of the whole Church, that this witness is true to the Gospel of the crucified Lord who is risen, the risen Lord who is the crucified. Only with this witness as part of its total message does the Church’s message measure up to the heights and depths of the human situation7
Only when this happens do we see a more credible foretaste of the unity of all humankind as image-bearers of God and united in Christ Jesus.
Charlie Meo serves as a pastor with Missio Dei Communities and as the curriculum director for the Surge Network in Phoenix, Arizona. He also contributes as a curriculum creator for City to City North America. He is married to his wife Keaton and together they are raising three kids.