Accessible to Some

        I recently read From Inclusion to Justice by Erin Raffety. She is a theologian and a disability rights activist, as is clear from the subtitle of her book: Disability, Ministry, and Congregational Leadership. Considering Community Church’s recent designation as an Accessible 2 All (A2A) congregation, I thought it would be worthwhile to explore Raffety’s thoughts on the church’s approach to disabled persons in the pews.

        It was a challenging book, not merely because of the technical language but also because it was hard to figure out exactly what she is asking of the church. As the title suggests, Raffety does not consider inclusion to be the proper goal when it comes to people with disabilities. I always thought inclusion was a good thing, but she points out that an attitude of inclusion usually comes from a stance of ableism, in which the able-bodied determine what is normative and deign to include those who do not meet the standard of “normal.” I could see her point.

        Raffety sees ableism everywhere, and I have to admit she may be right. I have not often thought about ableism because I haven’t had to (which Raffety would undoubtedly say is in itself a strong indicator of ableism). Part of the privilege that the dominant people in society enjoy is the privilege of not having to think about the concerns of the unprivileged. It’s what makes it so easy for white people to deny their racism, for example: if you have never feared for your life during a routine traffic stop, it’s easy to dismiss this fear as illegitimate in others as well. By the same token, if neither you nor any of your loved ones find yourself on the autism spectrum, it’s easy to ignore the issues that neurodivergent people face everyday.

        This is definitely a problem in religious circles, and Raffety suggests a radical overhaul of the way we do church. Disabled persons don’t want to have special programs created for them so that the mainstream congregation doesn’t have to bother with them; they want to be a part of the leadership bodies that make decisions about how the church should operate. Ideally, a worship service would be accessible and meaningful to all participants—there would be something for those who are physically disabled, for neurodivergent persons, for those with intellectual disabilities, for those suffering from mental illnesses, and so forth. As it stands, we design services to cater to the able-bodied majority and largely ignore the disabled minorities.

        I have to admit I often responded to Raffety’s book defensively, and to be fair she often takes a scolding tone, but I don’t want to ignore her valuable insights. As an A2A church, what do we need to do to highlight the voices of disabled persons in our midst? What programs and services can we create that will allow these folks not just inclusion but opportunities for leadership? This is the hard part of our A2A designation. (Don’t get me wrong; the changes we made to our facilities were important, and I am very grateful to those who took leadership roles in getting those things done.) But changing attitudes, confronting our ableism, and opening ourselves to the contributions of those who have so far been ignored is harder still. I hope that together we can take this next step of our journey toward being truly accessible to all.