The Rev. Bob Molsberry, Ohio Conference Minister, is featured in the UC NEWS article, "Going the distance, Conference minister embraces competition." Written by Gregg Brekke, the article appears in the upcoming December 2008 -January 2009 issue as well as online at www.ucc.org.
Annotated Bibliography
In Souls in the Hands of a Tender God: Stories of the Search for Home and Healing on the Streets (Beacon Press, 2008), Craig Rennebohm with David Paul offer a selected bibliography of books. Books marked with an asterisk (*) in the list below are reviewed elsewhere in this website.
Boisen, Anton. The Exploration of the Inner World: A Study of Mental Disorder and Religious Experience. Chicago and New York: Willett, Clark, 1936; reissued Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1971.
Boisen, Anton. Out of the Depths: An Autobiographical Study of Mental Disorder and Religious Experience. New York: Harper and Brothers, 1960.
Bhugra, Dinesh, ed. Psychiatry and Religion: Consensus and Controversies. Oxford, UK: Koutledge, 1996.
Damasio, Antonio. Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the Feeling Brain. New York: Harcourt, 2003.
Galanter, Marc. Spirituality and the Healthy Mind; Science, Therapy, and the Need for Personal Meaning. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.
Govig, Stewart D. In the Shadow of Our Steeples: Pastoral Presence for Families Coping with Mental Illness, Binghamton, NY: Haworth Press, 1999.
*Govig, Stewart D. Souls Are Made of Endurance; Survival of Mental Illness in the Family, Binghamton, NY: Haworth Press, 1994.
Gregg-Schroeder, Susan. In the Shadow of God's Wings: Grace In the, Midst of Depression, Nashville, TN: Upper Room Books, 1997.
Howell, Patrick J. Reducing the Storm to a Whisper. Chicago: Thomas More Press, 1985.
Howell, Patrick. A Spiritguide: As Sure as the Dawn through Times of Darkness. Lanham, MD: Sheed & Ward, 1996.
Kenig, Sylvia. Who Plays? Who Pays? Who Cares? A Case Study in Applied Sociology, Political Economy and the Community Mental Health Centers Movement. Amityville, NY: Baywood, 1992.
Koenig, Harold. The Healing Power of Faith: How Belief and Prayer Can Help You Triumph Over Disease. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2001.
Nouwen, Henri J. M. The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society. Garden City, NJ: Doubleday, 1972.
Oates, Wayne E. The Religions Care of the Psychiatric Patient. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1978.
Rennebohm, Craig. Souls in the Hands of a Tender God: Stories of the Search for Home and Healing on the Streets. Beacon Press, 2008.
My first reading of Rennebohm’s book brought tears to my eyes. It came at a time of my own family’s crisis over how to relate to one with schizophrenia. This book is not for the comfortable. It is for those who dare to better understand and minister to men and women living on the streets with mental illness. Souls in the Hands… will challenge complaceny and stereotypical thinking. Rennebohm’s poignant stories demonstrate what true companionship is like. His own battles with depression have gifted him with deep insight into human frailty and God’s gracious presence in suffering. A discussion guide makes this book a fitting choice for adult education classes. - Carole Wills, Reviewer
Torrey, E. Fuller. Nowhere to Go: The Tragic Odyssey of the Homeless Mentally Ill. New York: Harper and Row, 1988.
Zohar, Danah, with I. N. Marshall. The Quantum Self. New York: Morrow, 1990.
Souls in the Hands of a Tender God is a beautifully written, highly readable, inspiring book, authored by the Rev. Dr. Craig Rennebohm, a United Church of Christ Pastor and Chaplain.
Craig artfully interweaves the spiritual, biological and medical aspects of living with brain disorders commonly known as mental illness. He shares deeply moving parables from his two decades of “companioning†persons with these disorders in his congregations and on the streets of Seattle, and from his own struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts.
Through sharing his life experiences, the author has gifted the reader with a practical vision of God’s unconditional love and the ever-present power of a healing presence in all our lives, as well as concrete ways of living this out in our own spiritual walk.
As expressed by Craig Rennebohm, “It is my firm belief that in the act of becoming true neighbors to one another, we find the capacities to address local, national and world issues such as poverty and conflict, and find within ourselves the grace to develop the skills and strategies that make possible a world of peace and justice.â€
To learn more about this life-changing book, the author’s ministry and ways to engage the principles of companioning in your own life and your congregation’s life, go to www.tendergod.com. To find more resources on ministry with persons coping with brain disorders, see www.congregationalresources.org/mentalhealth.asp.
Dr. Rennebohm serves as the United Church of Christ Mental Illness Network (www.min-ucc.org) representative on the board of the United Church of Christ Disabilities Ministries (www.uccdm.org).
The Rev. Norma Mengel, Reviewer
Written by the Rev. Virginia Kreyer
Cannot we, persons with disabilities, nondisabilities, people of color, and persons from different cultures, compare our lives to a patchwork quilt?
Invocation
Leader: Spirit of God, come among us. Open our hearts to know your transforming presence in our lives.
People: Come, Holy Spirit.
Leader: Spirit of God, come among us. Brood over us that we may be filled with your love.
People: Come, Holy Spirit.
Leader: Spirit of God, come among us. Breathe into us your restlessness and courage that we may trust your promise of newness in our lives, in the church, and in the world.
People: Come, Holy Spirit, renew they whole creation. Amen.
1 CORINTHIANS 12:4-27
MY GRANDMOTHER'S AND great-grandmother's generation made patchwork quilts. My mother's and my generation rarely, if ever, engaged in this wonderful art form. Within the last decade or two, purchasing and making patchwork quilts has been revived. A good friend suggested that the imagery of a patchwork quilt might be a basis for this essay. I was thinking about the suggestion when, a few days later, a young woman pastor told a group of us attending a workshop that making patchwork quilts was one of her favorite hobbies.
The apostle Paul, writing his first letter to the church at Corinth, said, "For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.... Indeed the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot would say, `Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,' that would not make it any less a part of the body. . . . If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be?" (1 Cor.12:12, 14-15,17a). In other words, all of us are different.
Before following our biblical theme further, let's look at the patchwork-quilt analogy a little more closely. A quilt is made of many different pieces of material, different colors, and often, different textures. The one who is making the quilt decides how the quilt should be designed and stitched together by a common thread.
Once I heard of two women, living in different parts of our country, who made most of their daughter's dresses from the time the girls were infants until they reached young adulthood. Both women saved pieces of material from each dress they made. They have decided to make a patchwork quilt for their daughters, using the pieces of material from the dresses. One piece may remind one of the first day of school, while another piece may have brought back happy and sacred memories of confirmation day. No two pieces were exactly alike, but they have been stitched together by a parent's love.
Cannot we, persons with disabilities, nondisabilities, people of color, and persons from different cultures, compare our lives to a patchwork quilt? Each one of us is a unique human being. No two of us are exactly alike. For instance, no two people have the same fingerprints. And we all have abilities and disabilities. Some people's disabilities are very visible, while other people have invisible disabilities that we may never know about unless we are told. These may be mental, emotional, or physical. Each one of us has strengths of one form or another that we need to put to use for our own fulfillment, for the good of others, and to the glory of God.
As Christians, Jesus Christ brings us together, just as a quilter brings pieces of a quilt together. In recent years, we in the church have come to realize the value of telling and hearing autobiographical stories, as a way of witnessing to our faith. Each story is different because we, each, are unique individuals . . . no two of us face exactly the same situation or have the same experiences. Yet, as we look back on our lives, most of us can recognize the presence of God at various moments or times. We realize later, even if we are unaware of it at the time, that God has been with us. Just as the maker of a patchwork quilt draws the various pieces of material together with thread, so does God, revealed to us in Christ and known to us today through the power of the Holy Spirit, draws Christians together.
I am not trying to imply that life for any one of us is easy. Life for some people is much more difficult than for others. Some individuals who are members of minority groups, such as persons who have physical disabilities, people who are mentally impaired, people who are emotionally disturbed, or people who are African Americans or any other minority group, still are discriminated against. Our world is so full of violence, hatred, injustice, and war that even when I know that persons with disabilities and other minority groups have been shamefully treated, and still are not always given a fair opportunity, we must be grateful that many, many more people are far more accepting of persons with disabilities than they were a hundred, fifty, or even twenty years ago!
Societies, in general, and denominations, in particular, have been working since the late 1970s to remove architectural and attitudinal barriers. We finally have come to understand that we cannot be an inclusive church unless all people, regardless of their disability, color of their skin, or national origin, are welcome in Christ's Church.
Some people will continue to exhibit anger or hostility toward anyone who is different, be they persons who are mentally impaired, mentally ill, or have physical disabilities or are members of any other minority group. The recipient of such hostility finds this to be very painful. It hurts! We need to remember, however, that such behavior stems from the fear of the nondisabled or nonminority individual that they, too, could have been born into a minority group or could have been born with a disability or could become disabled. This fear often is on a subconscious or unconscious level. Our calling is to help such a person or persons, if possible, acknowledge their fear. Only as an individual does, can he or she admit their fear and change their attitude and, thus, their behavior.
In conclusion, let us:
1. Be thankful that society, in general, and the church, in particular, has begun to recognize that all individuals are precious, and must be allowed and helped to discover and use their God-given gifts.
2. Let us give thanks for our individual uniqueness and for Christ who binds Christians together as different pieces of cloth are brought together to make a quilt.
3. And finally, may each one of us, whatever our station in life, be granted strength to use our gifts and our abilities for the glory of God, remembering the words of Jesus who said, "Lo, I am with you always."
4. How can you encourage more persons with disabilities to become part of the congregation?
Reflection Questions
1. How do you feel when you meet a person with a disability?
2. Is your church accessible? If not, how can it be made accessible?
3. Are there people in your congregation who are disabled? Are they welcome?
Hymn possibilities
"Spirit Of Love" 58 TNCH
"Called As Partners In Christ's Service" 495 TNCH
"In Christ There Is No East or West" 394 TNCH
"Blessed Be the Tie That Binds" 393 TNCH
Women's Mosaic Series 2002
Margaret (Peg) Slater, Editor
Written by the Rev. Jeanne Tyler
The question of justice is one of exclusion.
Invocation
Persistent God, who never lets us go, come to us in this gathering. Open our minds and our hearts to wrestle with your words. Teach us not to sit politely by when we are not welcomed as the unique people we are. Help us to love ourselves as much as we love you, so that your gift of creating us in your image is not wasted on others or us. Help us be teachers and learners. Help us to follow your ways made straight in the wilderness. We ask this in the name of Jesus, the Christ. Amen.
ISAIAH 35; LUKE 18:1-9
A SENSE OF HOMECOMING 1S the vision found in Isaiah, chapter 35. The way home from exile is an ecological treasure-with the land being glad and full of blooms. The dry, inhospitable, and even dangerous desert will be transformed. It shall be filled with streams of water and a way will be found through it.
Best of all, the people who could be most easily left behind-the weak, the lame, the blind, the deaf, those unable to speak-will come to the forefront. All will be included, accepted, and affirmed at the center and the whole will be made holy. We will be a sign of God's presence in all our glory and differences.
The question of justice is one of exclusion. Isaiah knew the vulnerable ones who might not make it home. Those with disabilities might not have enough strength or mobility to make the way home. They might be left behind because they were too much trouble. Were they even good enough to come home?
As the land is transformed, so are the people. Those on the edges are now the center. Those with disabilities are not forgotten, not relegated to the least, or even out-of-sight, out of mind. Isaiah knew that any good homecoming is inclusive of all abilities.
Isaiah also invites us to look at deserts and see crocuses in bloom, look at the little paths and imagine a highway, feel the fear of wild animals and know the safety of God. Isaiah invites us to know ourselves as whole and holy. The whole of creation changes, is transformed as we change our perception of ourselves and our abilities and disabilities.
I was one of those who questioned if I was good enough to come home. I was born with mild cerebral palsy and a hearing loss. I have struggled to hear and be understood. I struggled to walk. And I struggled to know in whose image I was created.
In Genesis, it says that God created humankind in the image of God, God created them male and female. One day I was meditating on this line, trying to get myself around this so I could more fully understand. There I was in the library of Chicago Theological Seminary, looking at my hand, and I understood that I was in the image of God. My hand, which could not take good notes or write well, was "in the image of God:" My hand, which spilt coffee and took more time to do dishes, was "in the image of God:" My hand, which I would have gladly traded was "in the image of God" and the rest of me as well. By the grace of God, I knew myself as in the image of God. I could come home.
In the Gospel of Luke (18:1-7), there is a story from which I gain great strength. There is a woman, a widow, a woman without a man to speak for her. She must be alone. She should be powerless, but she is strong and determined. She does not take "no" for an answer from this judge who neither fears God nor regards humans. Can you see this woman dressed in black, perhaps bent over a little but with an attitude? What a hoot! She has been wronged, and she knows the judge can vindicate her if he wants. At first, the judge refuses her. He does not need to bother with her case. She is just a widow with another story of injustice. It does not concern him. She comes again to him with this same request, or is it a demand? And again she comes and again....
Finally, he says to himself, "Though I neither fear God nor regard humans, yet because this widow bothers me, I will vindicate her or she will wear me out by her continual coming:" And, he does.
A persistent woman won, and our lives are enriched with justice! With inner strength and fierce determination, she received justice from this judge that neither feared humanity nor God. This attitude drives us to claim our place in a world that often does not want to trouble with us. We can draw courage from this deep well of stories about inclusion at the center of a redeemed life.
Coming home to self is coming home to God. Coming home to God is coming home to self. Persevering, demanding justice, demanding a place at the table is faithful work for us all.
Reflection Questions
1. When do you see yourself in the image of God? Do you? Why? Why not?
2. When do you see others in the image of God? Is it easier to see others than yourself?
3. What sense do you make of the visions of redemption and hope in the Hebrew Scriptures? Can they be updated to our time? How?
Suggested Music
"All God's Children Got a Place in the Choir"
Women's Mosaic Series 2002
Margaret (Peg) Slater, Editor
Written by the Rev. Dallas Dee Brauninger
The attitude was different the first day I entered that gathering room with a mobility cane.
Prayer of Invocation
Leader: Mindful that from the genesis throughout the revelation of our lives, God creates, reveals, and renews God’s promise of hope for us,
All: Let us be faithful to our commitment to you, O God, and to one another. Amen.
Leader: As birth, disease, accident, or maturity brings special needs to those within this church,
All: Guide us, O God, as bringers of your hope. Amen.
Leader: As we increase our skill in reading the signs of change among church members and anticipate their needs,
All: Guide us, O God, as your welcoming people. Amen.
Scripture References
Jeremiah 29:11-114; Revelation 21:5
Meditation
“Bessie, you warm my heart,†I said. Having forgotten her glasses, our women’s group secretary handed me a note to read. “Forgetting my blindness is a compliment.â€
The attitude was different the first day I entered that gathering room with a mobility cane. Bernice jumped up, grabbed me by the elbow, and planted me in a chair. For seven years, my husband and I had been her co-pastors. I could not lose her now. When she released me, I said, “But Bernice, I was headed for the kitchen.†I went for a slow drink of water. I felt invalidated. Folks had respected my skill at coping with deteriorating eyesight. The unannounced cane, however, transmuted this invisible journey into a seeable disability.
Failing to thrive six weeks after premature birth, I had been sent home with frightened parents. Mom dared not bond, moving beyond guilt only late in life. In time, I concluded that visual chaos from the birth-damaged eye/brain connection was not the fault of hospital, parent, or an unfaithful God. It just happened.
Dad’s quiet coaching about other ways to see carried me through a double major in college and then, with recorded textbooks and keen ear, through seminary and into a future with hope. Ever-present, compassionate God, who created the human family with freedom, provided also a resilient curiosity and ingenuity.
Now, having convinced others in the 1960s that a woman with a disability is not only ordain-able and hire-able but also a potential treasury of compassion and joyful enthusiasm, I refused to let disability handicap. No invalid, I had to explode outdated attitudes. Sunday’s sermon: “The Mobility Cane as a Tool.â€
Soon several members began testing the eye contact I simulated by following voices. I would respond to a voice then find it coming from a new direction. I chose to skip that game. The cane became a symbol of triumph. Before long, other needed canes appeared in church.
When rheumatoid arthritis troublesome in youth returned in earnest, I could not stand long in place. The trustees furnished the pulpit with a removable riser and bar chair. When I preached, everyone settled in for a “sit down†visit as comfortable as the eye level chats had been with care center residents when I rolled about in a wheelchair one Lent.
Twenty years and two churches later, the mutual education continued. Soon after I, seated, greeted Christmas Eve worshipers, Twila also broke tradition to greet with her husband, seated.
Now, additional changes erupted as the RA intensified anywhere it chose. It took the jaws I needed for preaching and singing. For a while, I let it take joy. Plan B: Redefine ministry. Midway through a hospital chaplaincy program, I saw the insulting potential of ignored body messages. I stopped Plan B and returned home.
I loved my calling. I was sunk. I hollered, “Just what do you have in mind for me, God?†I had to know God would not give up, that I was still acceptable. Amid this outrage of exile, the Jeremiah passage and Plan C found me. I began to trust.
Grabbing a single thread of quiet, pervasive hope. I phoned visual rehabilitation. “Help, Karen, I’m using up my talents.†Almost casually, I added, “All that’s left is writing.†Within a week, an adapted computer arrived. Later, a Web screen reader would open another world of communication.
Conference advocates gained quiet invitations that promoted my ministry of writing. I was assigned “Talking with Your Child about Change.†Another editor requested “A Family Journey†and the “Preaching the Miracles†series. Disability was only one part of my identity again.
Thread by thread, I tatted new fabric, discerning within its intricate texture the old joy and gratitude for being whole. I cherished the unique design that overrode disability. I resolved to meet change until I can only sit and be.
With the persistence of raspberries ripening in autumn, God’s presence comes out on the side of hope. “See,†God’s holy nudging and the Revelation writer sings, “I am making all things new†(21:5).
Church folk learned together about disparaging and welcoming layers of attitude. Tiny things undo or fortify us. With a diagnosis of diabetes solving my new maze of foggy thinking, we all gained new levels of community. Respecting the perimeters of a disease whose management is as varied as forms of blindness became acceptable to others as well as to me. A glass of water chosen over sugary desserts still lubricated table talk and need not offend the server. Others also stopped jeopardizing their health. Simple foods, welcoming to all, appeared at shared meals.
Despite girding myself with a dog guide and a miscellany of other tools, when my feet needed triple thickness socks and clodhopper athletic shoes, a surprising vanity reared. I remembered the meticulous women of another church who, seeing only my blindness, readily dispensed unwelcoming pity but refused to offer a quiet word to remedy my clashing through Advent in a mismatched red outfit. I cringed at the thought of again dressing like “the blind.â€
Unwilling now to wear clumpy white socks and shoes to church, I brought to women’s fellowship an old yearning to be a regular kid. Gwenda set me straight. “Well, do they help?â€
I was no longer lonely. Earlier, my can-do attitude had embarrassed Emma’s offer of assistance at a potluck. After the shoes, she dared try again and something within me melted. Less caustic about my body, I had become more hospitable toward others.
When hand greeting became impossible, I wore my computer splint. No one would touch me then until I extended the hand palm up. Then Stu laid one tender finger on my outstretched palm. With it, he conveyed the full warmth of his Nebraska farmer handshake. One by one the congregation took his cue, and I melted again.
Hospitality spread. Today, an interpreter signs for a deaf mom. A pew-back stand holds the large-type hymnal for a fragile member. Will we redesign chancel steps so choristers awaiting joint replacement can still sing? Sidewalk railings ensure security. Levers replace knobs. Hand-carved signs identify bathrooms. Will we convert them into a universal space so wheelchair-users can drink another cup of coffee with their friends?
Reflection Questions
1. Recall a life change that cast you into spiritual exile. Tell about God’s gathering you in and restoring you to wholeness. Any new tools for your journey?
2. What do a sense of wholeness, the holy, and wellness within a body with broken or ailing parts mean to you?
3. Why might you feel uncomfortable at first around a person with a disability?
4. What speeds your transition from identifying a person with a disability, for example, as a blind person, to perceiving that individual as someone who happens to be left-handed? Share your wisdom about influencing the attitudes of others who might see only the disability and miss the whole person.
5. Aware that little things count, what changes in the physical environment within and around your church building would free older folk to continue attending worship and other gatherings a little while longer? What changes might welcome newcomers with disabilities?
Hymns
“We Are Your People†(#309 NCH)
“Called As Partners in God’s Service†(#495 NCH)
Benediction
May God guide this living church as we aim to do whatever it takes from the quiet, welcoming act to the visible or costly physical change that reflects God’s life-giving plan for a future with hope. Amen.
Extra Credit: How good are you at reading the signs? Be someone who uses a walker, a wheelchair, whose eyesight is wearing out, who has fragile hands or little strength, who can sit for only short times, who lives with a mental illness, who is sensitive to perfumes and other toxic substances, who cannot hear well. In teams of two, try on a variety of these disabilities then attend worship or walk throughout your church building and grounds. Take the resultant “to do†list to your Access Ability Committee.
Further Reading
National Organization on Disability (N.O.D.) Website: www.nod.org.
Brauninger, Dallas A. Holy E-Mail (CSS Publications, 2001)
_________. Lessons from a Dog Guide (Forthcoming from CSS in 2003)
Mild, Mary L., Editor. Women at the Well (Judson Press, 1996)
Women's Mosaic Series 2002
Treasure in Earthen Vessels
UCC Women's Resource
Margaret (Peg) Slater, Editor
Written by the Rev. Doris R. Powell
I WAS THIRTY-TWO. I'd just been backpacking in Colorado and was painting my house when I began to experience mysterious symptoms: swelling and pain in my hands, then an elbow, soon my shoulders, knees, and ankles. I went to work swathed in ace bandages. Within two months, I'd been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.
Invocation
Holy One, come among us. Walk this faith journey with us as we learn from our sisters and experience the stirring of our own deep yearning for you. Amen.
CORINTHIANS 4:7-11; EPHESIANS 3:16-21
I WAS THIRTY-TWO. I'd just been backpacking in Colorado and was painting my house when I began to experience mysterious symptoms: swelling and pain in my hands, then an elbow, soon my shoulders, knees, and ankles. I went to work swathed in ace bandages. Within two months, I'd been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. The doctor said, "It's not a death sentence," speaking of life expectancy. No, I thought, "It's a life sentence" to a body in which my expectancy about life was changed. I was thirty-two ... going on eighty.
I was familiar with Elisabeth Kübler Ross's stages of dealing with loss: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I managed partial denial for almost two years. I would learn the "lessons" it had to teach me, and then it would go away.
What I wasn't prepared for was an identity crisis. Perhaps it was because I'd just moved, and no one in my new community knew me. Everyone was reacting to this stranger who wasn't me. They saw a woman hurting with every movement, constantly exhausted, struggling to keep up. They didn't know the active, energetic person I'd always been. They didn't know me.
Over and over I asked: "Who am I, God? Am I the lively, capable person I've always known myself to be, or this stranger sidelined by pain? Is it healthier to fight this, or accept it?" The poet Rainer Maria Rilke counsels, "Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart.... Live the questions now."
The day-pain forced me to wear moccasins with my elegant business dress to a corporate meeting; I slipped from suffering into affliction. I'd looked forward to meeting many colleagues I'd only known by phone, but no one knew how to relate to the odd one in their midst. Simone Weil wrote of affliction as something that "seizes and uproots a life in all its parts ... social, psychological, and physical:" It makes the sufferer an outcast and life into an image of death. "Who am I, God?"
The answer was a "standing up out of death to life," as Melanie Morrison has described resurrection. "You are my beloved child. I know you. You are all you ever have been. You'll always carry that with you. And you are all you are becoming. You'll learn the grace of resisting and accepting. I am with you in all of it:" And then, "Are you still my disciple? Don't ask for a pass to sit on the sidelines, because I have great need of you. You, my beloved child."
That was almost twenty years ago. Nothing since has shaken my identity: disciple of Christ, bearer of treasure in an earthen vessel. As a person living with disability, I've discovered that I am differently-abled. I am clear in purpose and identity. I've cracked the illusion that we control our lives. Determination and perseverance still serve me well. I am more compassionate, creative, courageous, peaceful, perceptive, reflective, joyous, appreciative, whole.
Yet, can I be whole while others are not? So I am passionate, energetic, and active in creative, powerful ways to work for healing and wholeness for all. As with many persons with disabilities, I say to the church, "Let me offer my gifts in the church. Let me minister to and with you:" God's power is at work in us, accomplishing far more than all we can ask or imagine.
Arthritis functions as a spiritual discipline, keeping me keenly aware of my reliance on God, God's presence with me, and my connectedness with all people. I live in conversation with God and community, rooted and grounded in love.
I seem to have missed the classic stages of bargaining and depression, perhaps because the word spoken to my identity crisis moved me to acceptance. Whatever happens with me, I am in God's hands. I say that not in resignation but in trust.
In a sermon about Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, Howard Thurman said, "We cannot fathom the mystery of God. We cannot even understand the meaning of our own little lives, but the fierce hold that we have on our lives, again and again, is the most real thing that we have. To relax that and to trust God ... not to hold things in some all-encompassing grasp; no, but to trust God just with you ... is the most difficult dimension of the spiritual life."
I do experience anger. At the indifference, prejudice, and injustice that add suffering. I feel anger and lament at the barriers people erect. Where is it written that print must be tiny? That to sing we must rise to our feet ... it's not enough that our spirits rise up? That full participation in the body of Christ demands certain physical and mental capacity or certain race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, economic status? Who are we to order our lives, and life in our churches, in ways that exclude or diminish any of God's beloved?
Our lives are lived in relation. Our reception of others is made possible by Christ's deep reception of us. I claim, with every other baptized disciple, "The life of Jesus is made visible in my body; we have this treasure, this treasure, in clay jars, earthen vessels:" Can you not perceive it?
Questions and Activities
1. Major life changes or loss may provoke a sense of identity crisis, causing us to question, "Who am I now?" Is there a time you've felt this way? What has helped you? Can a congregation experience an identity crisis? What shapes your identity as a person? as a women's fellowship? as a congregation? What if the images you hold of yourself or another prove phony? Would you be willing to have them shattered to let new images arise?
2. Think of a person or community in the Bible who knew affliction. How did they respond? What questions were they living? What questions are you living?
3. Is a lament "just" complaining? Can a lament be an act of resistance? What does a lament say about our relationship with God? Read one of these Psalms: 22, 31, 42, 77, 88, 116, 123, or 137. Write a lament about something that causes you aggravation or suffering on a regular basis, perhaps even daily. You might begin, "I've got a right to sing the blues...... Or play some blues as you prepare.
4. What treasure do you bear in your ordinary, fragile being? How are you differently abled? How can you open yourself and your church to receive, value, and incorporate the treasure and abilities of others into your communal life?
Resources
Eiesland, Nancy L. The Disabled God: Toward a Liberatory Theology of Disability.
Nashville, Tenn.: Abingdon, 1994.
Heyward, Isabel Carter. The Redemption of God: A Theology of Mutual Relation. Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1982.
Kiibler-Ross, Elisabeth. On Death and Dying. New York: Macmillan, 1969.
Morrison, Melanie. The Grace of Coming Home: Spirituality, Sexuality, and the Struggle Justice. Cleveland, Oh.: The Pilgrim Press, 1995.
Meditation
Read Ephesians 3:16-19 or Romans 8:35,37-39. Read Matthew 19:14. Sit or lie quietly. Take several deep breaths. Perceive Jesus seated on a low stool in an inviting setting. Experience a soft, warm glow surrounding Jesus, filling the space. Perceive Jesus turning toward you, opening arms in invitation. Perceive yourself as a young child, moving into the gentle embrace. Rest on Jesus, soaking in the love, acceptance, protection, security, peace, comfort, assurance ... all that you need to receive for as long as you need. Gradually become aware of your current surroundings. Stay quiet for a few moments and offer a silent prayer.
Suggested Music
The Mudflower Collective. God's Fierce Whimsy: Christian Feminism and Theological Education. New York: The Pilgrim Press, 1985.
Rhude, Beth E. Live the Questions Now: The Interior Life. Cincinnati, Oh.: The Women's Division, Board of Global Ministries, The United Methodist Church, 1980.
Soelle, Dorothee. Suffering. Trans. Everett R. Kalin. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975.
Thurman, Howard. Temptations of Jesus: Five Sermons Given by Dean Howard Thurman in Marsh Chapel, Boston University, 196. Richmond, In.: Friends United Press, 1978.
Weil, Simone. Waiting for God. Trans. Emma Craufurd. New York: Harper and Row, 1973.
"Tu has venido a la orilla" ("You Have Come Down to the Lakeshore"). 173 TNCH
Wuellner, Flora Slosson. Prayer, Stress, and Our Inner Wounds. Nashville, Tenn.: Upper Room, 1985.
Women's Mosaic Series 2002
UCC Women's Resource
Margaret (Peg) Slater, Editor
Reprinted from The Other Side
Written by Nancy Eiesland
I have been part of several congregations whose practice of receiving Eucharist includes filing to the front of the sanctuary and kneeling at the communion rail. Often, because I am either in a wheelchair or using crutches, an usher alerts me that I need not go forward for the Eucharist. Instead, I am offered the sacrament at my seat after everyone else has been served.
The congregation is trying to accommodate my presence in the service. They are undoubtedly trying to be conscientious and inclusive in their own way. But in effect, they are transforming Eucharist from a corporate experience to a solitary one for me, from a sacralization of Christ's broken body to a stigmatization of my disabled body.
I am hardly alone. For many people with disabilities, the Eucharist--which should be the ultimate sacrament of unity of believers--is a ritual of exclusion and degradation. Access to this celebration of the body is restricted because of architectural barriers, ritual practices, demeaning body aesthetics, unreflective speech, and bodily reactions. The Eucharist becomes a dreaded and humiliating remembrance that in the church we are trespassers in an able-bodied dominion.
For many disabled persons, the church has been a "city on a hill"--physically inaccessible and socially inhospitable. This Eucharistic exclusion is symbolic of a larger crisis. Sadly, rather than offering empowerment, the church has more often supported societal structures and attitudes that have treated people with disabilities as objects of pity and paternalism.
The primary problem for the church is not how to "accommodate" disabled persons. The problem is a disabling theology that functionally denies inclusion and justice for many of God's children. Much of church theology and practice--including the Bible itself--has often been dangerous for persons with disabilities. The prejudice, hostility, and suspicion toward people with disabilities cannot be dismissed simply as relics of an unenlightened past. Christians today continue to interpret Scripture and spin theologies that reinforce negative stereotypes, support social and environmental segregation, and mask the lived realities of people with disabilities.
On those occasions when denominations and congregations make progress in asserting and implementing accessibility, it usually happens through a subtle but powerful paternalism of the able-bodied church, liberally "welcoming" those of us with disabilities. Even some of the best denominational statements articulating a theology of access still speak in the voice of the able-bodied community, advocating for persons with disabilities but not allowing our own voices, stories, and embodied experiences to be central.
The growing and dynamic disability rights movement in this country and around the world is raising crucial cultural and moral questions not simply about the meaning of disability, but the very meaning of embodied experience, human dignity, social justice, and community. It is a ripe moment for the Christian church to reflect on its own core values and traditions and allow the emergence of a theology of disability, with liberating meaning and power for all of us.
The first task in developing a liberating theology of disability is to identify and confront the key aspects of the church's disabling theology, beginning with its biblical roots.
A common theme in the Hebrew Scriptures is the conflation of physical disability and "impurity." The "holiness code" of Leviticus 17-26 communicates a strong message that physical disability is a distortion of the divine image and an inherent desecration of all things holy. Bodily unwholeness is "unclean" and needs to be kept at the periphery of the community. Leviticus 21:18-20 prohibits anyone "blind or lame, or one who has a mutilated face or a limb too long, or one who has a broken foot or a broken hand, or a hunchback, or a dwarf, or a man with a blemish in his eyes" from priestly activities or entering the most holy place in the temple. These and similar passages have historically been used to warrant barring persons with disabilities from positions of ecclesiastical visibility and authority.
Although the specific physical standards of such passages may not be retained as criteria for today's religious leadership, the implicit theology persists in church actions and attitudes. As recently as 1986, the General Conference of the American Lutheran Church declared that people with "significant" physical or mental disabilities would be barred from ordained ministry.
New Testament texts have also been read to support a link between sin and disability. Several Gospel narratives and even Jesus' own statements are ambiguous, sometimes upholding and sometimes discounting such linkage. Luke's account of the man with paralysis who is lowered through the roof of the house where Jesus is speaking has often been interpreted as a story of heroic helpers and a crippled sinner (5:18-26). Jesus' own words--"Which is easier, to say, 'Your sins are forgiven you,' or to say, 'Stand up and walk'?" (5:23)--suggest some association between forgiveness and healing.
In John's story of the man by the pool of Bethesda (5:5-16), Jesus follows his healing with an apparent affirmation of the link between sin and disability when he tells him, "Do not sin anymore, so that nothing worse happens to you" (5:14). In John 9:1-3, however, Jesus offers a very different perspective. When his disciples ask whether the man's blindness is the result of his or his parents' sins, Jesus answers: "Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God's works might be revealed in him."
A different but equally troublesome biblical theme is the ideal of virtuous suffering. In passages such as Paul's account of the "thorn in the flesh" (2 Cor. 12:7-10), righteous submission to divine testing is upheld as a praiseworthy disposition for Christian disciples. Likewise, early interpretations of Job and the story of Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31) purported that physical impairments were a sign of divine election by which the righteous were purified and perfected through painful trials. Disability is seen as a temporary affliction that must be endured to gain heavenly rewards. While more subtle, this theology of virtuous suffering has been no less dangerous. It has encouraged persons with disabilities to acquiesce to social barriers as a sign of obedience to God, and to internalize second-class status inside and outside the church.
The biblical theme of charitable giving has had equivocal outcomes for people with disabilities. In ancient societies, almsgiving provided a vital means of survival for people deemed outcasts or who were without the means to provide for themselves. Yet as many of the biblical prophets proclaimed, the people of God forgot that such offerings were the rightful stipends of those who were socially or physically prevented from economic productivity; instead they pushed aside the needy and refused to establish justice "at the gate" (Amos 5:12-15). Hence the system of charity, which had always included a requirement of justice, soon failed to accord dignity or even adequate provision.
From its inception, the Christian community has always acknowledged a special responsibility and mission to marginalized persons, including those who are physically unable to provide for themselves (Acts 6:1-6). Furthermore, several New Testament passages link the notion of charity to healing. In the account of the disabled man at the Beautiful Gate (Acts 3:1-10), Peter and John responded to a request for donations with miraculous action. As in this case, healings often restored the person not only to an able-bodied state, but also to social participation and religious inclusion.
Subsequent church practice often lost sight of this broader vision. Historically, church-based charities have provided humane care, medical advances, and indispensable financial support. Yet this has often resulted in segregating people with disabilities from the Christian community rather than restoring them to social and religious participation. While engaging in individualistic charity and healing, the Christian church has neglected the social and political needs of people with disabilities, failing to place as central emphases political engagement and social inclusion.
Our task is not simply one of correcting some faulty texts or even of building greater architectural access. The Christian church must develop a theology of disability, emerging from the lives and even the bodies of those with disabilities. Such a theology must not be construed as a "special-interest" perspective, but rather an integral part of reflection on Christian life. We must come to see disability neither as a symptom of sin nor an opportunity for virtuous suffering or charitable action. The Christian community as a whole must open itself to the gifts of persons with disabilities, who, like other minority groups, call the church to repentance and transformation.
Much of my life I waited for a mighty revelation of God. I did experience an epiphany, but it bore little resemblance to the God I was expecting or the God of my dreams.
Growing up with a disability, I could not accept the traditional interpretations of disability that I heard in prayers, in Sunday school, and in sermons. "You are special in God's eyes," I was often told, "that's why you were given this painful disability." Or, "Don't worry about your suffering now--in heaven you will be made whole."
This confused me. My disability had taught me who I am and who God is. What would it mean to be without this knowledge? Would I be absolutely unknown to myself in heaven, and perhaps even unknown to God?
I was assured that God gave me a disability to develop my character. But by age six or seven, I was convinced that I had enough character to last a lifetime. My family frequented faith healers with me in tow. I was never healed. People asked about my hidden sins, but they must have been so well hidden that even I misplaced them. The theology that I heard was inadequate to my experience.
In my teen years, I became actively involved in the disability rights movement--joining persons around the globe who were struggling for basic human rights for the now approximately 650 million persons with disabilities worldwide. Through this movement I came to understand why those of us with disabilities have such depreciated views of ourselves and lack genuine convictions of personal worth. I began to see the "problem" not within my body or the bodies of other people with disabilities, but with the societies that have made us outcasts and treated us in demeaning and exclusionary ways. I helped organize sit-ins to achieve access to public transit and public facilities and to promote human and civil-rights legislation.
For a long time, I experienced a significant rift between my activism and my faith. My activism filled me with a passion for social change that would acknowledge our full value as human beings. But my theological and spiritual questions remained unanswered: What is the meaning of my disability? The movement offered me opportunities to work for change that were unavailable in the church, but my faith gave a spiritual fulfillment that I could not find in the movement.
Yet I also had to name the ways in which Christian communities participated in our silencing. Within the church, often other people with disabilities were uninterested in political and activist matters. Many activists, meanwhile, saw religion as damaging or at least irrelevant to their work. I felt spiritually estranged from God.
My return to intimacy with God began at an Atlanta rehabilitation hospital for persons with spinal cord injuries. A chaplain asked me to lead a Bible study with several residents. One afternoon after a long and frustrating day, I shared with the group my own doubts about God's care for me. I asked them how they would know if God was with them and understood their experience. After a long silence, a young African-American man said, "If God was in a sip-puff, maybe He would understand."
I was overwhelmed by this image: God in a sip-puff wheelchair, the kind used by many quadriplegics that enables them to maneuver the chair by blowing and sucking on a straw-like device. Not an omnipotent, self-sufficient God, but neither a pitiable, suffering servant. This was an image of God as a survivor, as one of those whom society would label "not feasible," "unemployable," with "questionable quality of life."
Several weeks later, I was reading in Luke's Gospel about an appearance of the resurrected Jesus (24:36-39). The focus of this passage is really on his followers, who are alone and depressed. Jesus says to them, "Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see."
This wasn't exactly God in a sip-puff, but here was the resurrected Christ making good on the promise that God would be with us, embodied, as we are--disabled and divine. In this passage, I recognized a part of my hidden history as a Christian.
The foundation of Christian theology is the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Yet seldom is the resurrected Christ recognized as a deity whose hands, feet, and side bear the marks of profound physical impairment.
This was my epiphany. The resurrected Christ is a disabled God--one who understood the experience of the others in my Bible study in the rehab center, as well as my own. Encountering this disabled God became for me the source of a "liberation theology" of disability. Jesus Christ, as a living symbol of the disabled God, shares in the human condition; he experiences in his embodiment all our vulnerability and flaws. In emptying himself of divinity, Jesus enters the arena of human limitation, even helplessness. Jesus' own body is wounded and scarred, disfigured and distorted.
In his ministry, Jesus builds community and experiences human solidarity with those who are disabled, socially stigmatized, and denied their full human dignity and capacity. Jesus Christ the disabled God is consistent with many images of Jesus in solidarity with all those who have struggled to maintain the integrity and dignity of their bodies in the face of injustice and bodily degradation.
Jesus Christ the disabled God repudiates the conception of disability as a consequence of sin. Our bodies participate in the image of God, not in spite of our impairments and contingencies but through them. For many people whose disabilities keep them from participating fully in the church or from feeling full-bodied acceptance by Christ, accepting the disabled God may enable reconciliation with their own bodies and Christ's body, the church. Hence, disability not only does not contradict the human-divine integrity, it becomes a new model of wholeness and a symbol of solidarity.
The disabled God is a survivor. In our society, "survivor" is contaminated with notions of victimization, radical individualism, and alienation, as well as with an ethos of virtuous suffering. In contrast to that cultural icon, the image of survivor evoked here is that of a simple, unself-pitying, honest body, for whom the limits of power are palpable but not tragic. The disabled God embodies the ability to see clearly the complexity and the "mixed blessing" of life and bodies, without living in despair. This revelation is of a Godwho is for us, one who celebrates joy and experiences pain not separately in time or space, but simultaneously.
The disabled God is a God for whom interdependence is a necessary condition for life; a fact of both justice and survival. The disabled God embodies practical interdependence, not simply willing to be interrelated from a position of power, but depending on it from a position of need. For many people with disabilities, mutual care is a matter of survival. To posit a Jesus Christ who needs care and mutuality as essential to human-divine survival debunks the myth of individualism and hierarchical orders in which transcendence means breaking free of encumbrances and needing nobody.
This disabled God makes possible a renewal of hope for people with disabilities and others who care. This symbol offers us a liberating realism that accepts our bodily limitations as part of the truth of being human. At the same time, this hope pushes us toward social and interpersonal transformation, toward a justice of access and mutuality that is free from barriers that exclude, constrain, and humiliate us. It situates our hope in the reality of our existence as ones with dignity and integrity. It affirms that our nonconventional bodies, which oftentimes dissatisfy and fail us, are worth the living.
People with disabilities are part of the sacramental body of Christ in the church. So it is painful and tragic that the bodily practice of the ritual of Eucharist, as I described, often serves to stigmatize and exclude those with nonconventional bodies. The Eucharist is a remembrance of a broken body--and a celebration of the miraculous liberation that wells up from that broken body.
The church--made up of all of us--is beautiful and broken, impaired but powerful, complex and gifted. It is this body, the church, which incarnates the disabled God for our world. It is this body which is called to follow in the liberating ways of Jesus Christ the disabled God, who embodied a commitment to justice, and who challenged all structures, social codes, and rituals of degradation that deny the full personhood of marginalized people. This liberating mission is only possible when sisters and brothers with disabilities are integral to the life of the community--when our voices are heard, our experiences honored, and our gifts allowed to flourish.
Current Issue | Printable Article
From The Other Side Online, © 2002 The Other Side, September-October 2002, Vol. 38, No. 5. ©2002 The Other Side 300 West Apsley, Philadelphia, PA 19144 (800) 700-9280 Fax: (215) 849-3755
Posted with Nancy's permission.
1
A Sermon
Dear Dee,
I read your article in your denominational newspaper. I was stunned by your statement about Harold Wilke. You said, "I learned from Dr. Wilke that wholeness has little to do with the body." I was wondering if you could elaborate this for me.
Daniel M
2
Dear Daniel,
On "Wholeness has little to do with the body," you wrote that sentence stunned you. The one time that I met Dr. Wilke, I was stunned. I had never met anyone without arms. Beyond that fact, it seemed not to matter to Dr. Wilke. He did everything I did. He sat at the table and ate his dinner. He shared in the table conversation. He was gracious. At first, I saw only what was broken about him. Then I forgot about it. Well, not really forgot but set it aside.
3
I was then in my first or second year of seminary. I could no longer read print or really see where I was going because of vision that had divided from double to triple and then quadruple images. The struggle had been great to that point. Later the vision would deteriorate to something akin to looking through a prism and other complications that let to the temporary freedom of Braille, a mobility cane, and now the second of two dog guides.
4
Literally, visually, and symbolically, I knew a lot about brokenness of body. I caught, however, a wholeness of spirit in Dr. Wilke that met my own tenacity. Where I was a student of perseverance and will power, I eventually learned that while perseverance and will power are helpful in coping with the struggles of brokenness of the body, they are not the whole answer. They are a kind of pseudo-wholeness that fools others and the self.
5
As the rheumatoid arthritis that had been in remission during my mid-youth became unmanageable during my late 30s, I knew another kind of brokenness. It was a brokenness of spirit. I had worked so hard to get where I was. Now in the middle of great fun as a parish minister and Christian education leader, I had to call a halt to any singing and had to stop preaching. I had to tend to my body when I wanted to forget about it.
6
Again I saw the image of Dr. Wilke holding a fork with his foot that wore a special sock with toes in it. That image kept after me. While my co-pastor husband continued in the parish, I began to write meditations, worship materials, and eventually wrote several worship resources. I am presently working on my seventeenth book. Through this writing work, I began to realize that while part of my body was in trouble, I was not broken.
7
In the writing of these books, especially Holy E-Mail and Lessons from a Dog Guide, I came to understand the wholeness that enabled Dr. Wilke to transcend a broken piece. Some things do not matter. Inconvenient, yes, a real pain, yes, but really of no consequence when it comes to wholeness. Body for me is our whole being in that it is the house of what really matters.
8
I once said that if I still had my mind, the body would not really matter. In the last six years, diabetes has deluged me with another dimension of brokenness. For my body, diabetes means that I only have clarity of mind and stability of emotion when my level of glucose is within the parameters of only a few points. This is difficult to maintain and requires strict adherence to food, exercise and stress management. I have seen clearly that the mind and the body share a closely balanced chemistry. It has helped me to understand the turmoil that all who live with brain disorders must endure.
9
Yet, within all of this brokenness and this struggle, something whole within me refuses to yield. This wholeness has nothing to do with the body. It is very quiet, only whispering at times. Sometimes it seems to be only a single thread that I am called to continually spin into a new fabric and mat. When I truly connect with other people, whether it is through my writing or directly, it is at this point of wholeness that soul connects with soul. It is more than I. It is the God that stays with me and who sees that I am whole.
10
Well, you may have been looking for a short answer, Daniel. Suffice it to say that God sends us people like Dr. Wilke to keep us straight about what is most important. God also came through you this morning. You found me in the middle of another struggle, four weeks into a return to parish ministry as co-pastor with my husband, and trying to return my whole being to balance within its requirements rather than as I want it to be. I know that I am where God has called me. My job is, once again, to figure out how to manage it, that is, to do the things I can do and forget about the rest. Heaven help me, if your e-mail was God's saying, Dee, why don't you just stick to ministry through writing!
So, now I am curious, Daniel M., why did that little sentence stun you?
Shalom,
Dee
The Rev. Dr. Dallas (Dee) Brauninger edited "That All May Worship and Serve," the newspaper of UCC DM published in United Church News at the time this sermon was written.
Written by Jo Lambert.
It is not generally understood or addressed by our society that people with disabilities experience more grief and loss on an almost daily basis than the general public.
Much of the grief and loss for the person with a disability is the same as that for the person without a disability. However, the person with a disability has the added dynamic of a daily reminder—the disability itself. . . .
Read at Access Press,
Originally from Life After Loss by Kathy Sherer, Ph.D. (From the University of Texas, Counseling and Mental Health Center). Updated in 2005
In adverse situations, a sense of impossiblity first overrides all else. However, feeling overwhelmed by the "I can't" does not necessarily mean that we "cannot."
It does not mean that we have sunk. It means that we are facing the truth of being unable to do something according to original plans. That is all it means.
The temporary despair that accompanies a sense of being overwhelmed quiets as we figure out another way to do what is important to us.
Limits just are.
from Dee Brauninger's Holy E-mail
Four recipients were awarded the Bob and Joyce Dell Award (Mental Illness Ministry) and the Disabilities Ministries Award at General Synod in Hartford, 2007.
Two youths, sharing a contagious joy and enthusiasm for life, will join a pastor as recipients of the Disabilities Ministries Awards.
Tyler Greene
Tyler Greene, whose church home is the First Congregational United Church of Christ, Waterloo, Iowa, produced a training video titled "I'm Tyler." The tool is being used nationally in faith communities, schools and organizations.
"Tyler encourages others not to label people in terms of their 'disability,' but to appreciate others in terms of their ability," said the Rev. Timothy J. Ensworth, his pastor.
Joseph Maki
Joseph Maki is an eager volunteer at his church, Zion United Church of Christ, Le Sueur, in his community and at Pilgrim Point, the Minnesota Conference camp. "The United Church of Christ and its members have opened the doors for him," his mother, Laura Maki, said. "He has accepted that invitation and is doing what he can to help others learn about our Lord through his service to others."
The Reverend Dr. Robert Loesch
The Rev. Dr. Robert Loesch, now pastor of Taborton Zion United Church of Christ near Sand Lake, New York, was nominated by Foster Memorial Church United Church of Christ in Springfield, Massachusetts. "Bob has spent most of his life advocating for persons through church and community leadership in several human service agencies working to support adults with disabilities, especially those with mental illness and developmental disabilities," said Karen Cardigan, Program Coordinator of the Western Massachusetts Training Consortium.
United Church of Christ Disabilities Ministries awards are given in appreciation for distinguished service to church and community in the interest of furthering the church's mission to become Accessible to All.
The First Congregational United Church of Christ of Downer's Grove, Illinois
The First Congregational Church United Church of Christ of Downer's Grove will receive the Bob and Joyce Dell Award. Pastors are the Rev. Laura and the Rev. William Hoglund. The citation from the Mental Illness Network (MIN) recognizes a local UCC church or person who has done much to eliminate stigma, build a ministry, or advocate for legal protection for persons with serious mental illnesses.
"The church has been active in mental health ministry for many years with a comprehensive outreach to the community as well as to in-house services," said the Rev. Robert Dell.
With delight, the United Church of Christ Disabilities Ministries received word yesterday that the Reverend Virginia Kreyer will be awarded high recognition as an ordained woman in the denomination.
With equal delight, the spirited foremother of the UCC DM responded in a late afternoon phone visit, "I'm coming. Tell them I am coming to Synod."
"Virginia’s pioneering and trailblazing ministry must be seen within the context of her being born with cerebral palsy, which was manifested in her motor skills and severe speech difficulties," said Gay McCormick, UCC DM representative to the Office of General Ministry.
"In addition to beginning the UCC DM, Virginia is a role model and a prophet," McCormick said. "To know the importance of her qualities it is necessary to understand that she required years of physical and occupational therapy as well as extensive speech therapy, and, that as a child, she was perceived as mentally retarded because of her speech."
Virginia's mother was pivotal in how Virginia became who she is. She never allowed her daughter to use her disability as an excuse. Believing that a disability is not something you hide, she imbued Virginia with her quality of dogged persistence.
"In Virginia's high school and college days she had felt God’s call to work in the church. It was a call to make this world a better place in which to live, but 'Who would ordain a "handicapped" woman?â€'" the writer of her nominating letter said.
A year after Virginia graduated from college she became a student at Union Theological Seminary in New York, but not before her first application for admission was rejected. With the assistance of clergy and Union faculty who supported her, she was admitted as a full time B.D. (now M.Div.) student.
Her speech difficulties were a problem. The professor of preaching at first saw no reason that she should take his course. Finally he relented and at the end of the course told Virginia, “You are a good preacher.†While at Union she received the unmistakable message God was saying to her, “ Stop questioning your call to ordination,†and so she did.
After her graduation from Union Theological Seminary she was ordained (in another denomination) in 1952. She then found employment at the Nassau County (NY) Cerebral Palsy Center. Her hope of being a chaplain to the clients and their families was not the intent of the Center. It had employed her to be a role model of what a person with CP can accomplish. Virginia was not at all satisfied just to be a role model and, as a consequence, started a Masters degree program in social work, receiving her degree in 1960. She became a staff social worker at the Center, working there until 1984.
In 1967 she began attending Garden City Community Church, a UCC congregation, becoming a UCC member in 1971. Then she began a long process of being ordained in the UCC. She suggested to the Association Committee on Ordination and Standing the beginning of a committee for persons with disabilities called handicapped / physically challenged. She became the chairperson of the new committee.
Over the next five years that committee tried to get the UCC in New York involved in this advocacy work. Nothing happened until a committee member suggested writing a resolution on persons with disabilities and presenting it to the New York Conference meeting in 1976.
The resolution was passed and the next year was taken to General Synod. This resolution, ‘that the national church begin work with persons with disabilities,’ was passed but not before Virginia had to speak very persuasively, first, before a Synod committee and then, secondly, address the whole body of the 1977 General Synod. She spoke of how Jesus spent his ministry teaching, preaching and healing, incorporating all three in his ministry.
In response, not only did General Synod pass the resolution, but ministry to and with persons with disabilities became one of that Synod’s top priorities. The persons with disabilities resolution was assigned to the United Church Board for Homeland Ministries (UCBHM), Division of Health and Welfare to be carried out.
The previously mentioned 1977 resolution opened up a one day a week consulting position. The position was offered to Virginia and she accepted with vigor, though it took awhile to negotiate this change with the Department of Social Services at the United Cerebral Palsy Center. With Virginia as the Consultant for persons with disabilities, she worked with churches struggling to educate them about the needs of persons with disabilities, particularly focusing on what they should be doing to make their church buildings accessible and welcoming to all including persons with disabilities.
A questionnaire was developed and mailed to all churches in the United Church of Christ. The response showed that fewer than 10% of our churches were physically accessible and in some cases they, too, had problems. She traveled over the country preaching, teaching, and giving workshops to help people understand the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ of welcoming persons with disabilities.
Due to Virginia's dedicated, persistent work, additional resolutions were passed affirming full inclusion of persons with disabilities in the church in the next three General Synods. At General Synod 14, accessible churches were recognized. At GS16 a resolution was passed which advocated for the (a) full participation of persons with disabilities in the life of the church and in society and (b) directed the Pension Board to develop insurance coverage for employees at the time of onset of a disability. All were significant changes, changes attributable to Virginia’s leadership. Texts of all UCC Disabilities Ministries and Mental Illness Ministries can be found on www.uccdm.org.
In 1991 she attended the Consultation on the Disabled in preparation of the World Council of Churches (WCC) and then served as a UCC delegate to the World Council, working on issues of disability rights. She continued her advocacy work until 1995 when she retired.
Also, at this time, she became a member of the National Council of Churches of Christ (NCCC) Committee of the Disabled, and then a member of the Board of Directors, 1977-1995. Committed to advocating for persons with disabilities in the National Councl, she was a highly effective advocate.
Concurrently, Virginia was asked to serve as a representative of and for persons with disabilities in 1979 in what became the UCC Coordinating Center for Women. She frequently led the Holy Communion service for the agency.
Virginia lived in Garden City, NY, and was a member of Garden City Community Church, her home throughout all her years of service to the UCC and persons with disabilities. In 2002 she moved to a Williamsburg, VA, retirement community where she now lives.
Meditation
Hope is something we have to choose. God is someone we have to seek. Sometimes a single sentence is the most we can call out to God. Sometimes our best is only a few words or only a God-directed sigh. Sometimes when we need to have God near, we need more encouragement than we can summon through our own pep talks. It is not enough for us to snatch at hope like a bird flitting from limb to limb snatches at rose hips in a bier thicket. We need to embrace hope, choose hope, and grab on to hope with all our might.
- Dee Brauninger excerpted from Holy E-Mail
I was a minister
code blue
hand aching from the grip of
mother or sister, "chaplain,oh,
chaplain"
my self embodying the
grasp for hope
in a place where words
are never enough
I was a minister
"Why would God?'
"Why did God?'
"I must be bad, go away ."
I go and I return.
No pat answers.
Just this odd woman of God
willing to ride out the storm.
I was a minister
now my body is broken
and I must buy it
buy that my will alone cannot
drive me to
Work harder
stay longer
be the best, oh,yes
Am I a minister?
Some days I cannot remember
my phone number
and the tasks of survival
occupy me
I am too weak to work
too weak to drive
too weak
too weak
but what was that bit
about "treasure in clay jars"
cracked pots
crackpot, certainly
I am a minister
I heard my call
it was not a mistake
I cannot do
and so I stand quiet
clutching shattered Grace
in both my hands,
listening ,again,
for that Voice
Deb Smith retains copyrights for her poetry. Bio__Deb Smith graduated from PSR and was ordained in 1984. I spent most of my career as a chaplain in physical, psch, and chem dependency hospitals, but was also a Licensed social worker and pastoral counselor.
I started getting tired about 16 years ago, but my energy has always been so high. I just figured it was overwork. Ten years ago I had to leave a doctoral program in psychology and religion after my first year, due to constant illness and fatigue. For years (two of them bedbound), I had a diagnosis of "yes, you're sick, but your tests are fine." This is important,
because I could not apply for social security disability without a specific diagnosis.Atypical hypothyroidism was finally settled on. The meds got me out of bed, but not functional. I have adrenal insuffeciency, gluten intolerance, fibromyalgia CFIDS, chronic Epstien-Barr.
A friend with a visible disablity since childhood talks about having to convince people she could do things;I have to convince people I can't do things, as my disabilities are invisible. I miss respect, am occasionally considerdes lazy, viewed with contempt or having a "vacation." My dog and cat love me as I am an I am determined to get well enought to contribue to society and to have some FUN.
A Cyclist's Guide to Progressive Living
Bob Molsberry, Ohio Conference Minister, cycles with a wheelchair.
Robert F. Molsberry reflects on life in terms of the RAGBRAI, the Des Moines Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa, he has completed for many years. Bob offers a progressive Christian perspective on life in the fast and slow lanes of the 21st Century.
Molsberry is the author of Blindsided by Grace: Entering the World of Disability,
A recent note from Bob says, "I'll be with Team Livestrong cycling across Iowa on RAGBRAI this summer in support of the Lance Armstrong Foundation."
His latest book is available at rowmanlittlefield.com or amazon.com.
Cowley Publications (June 25, 2007)
All three of us, each with a unique ministry, have been accepted here for who we are "inside." My heart rejoices in this gift from a generous God to be sent to this church.
From individuals' matching-plus of the Disabilities Ministries grant that began Kamp Kaleo's concrete sidewalks (see earlier Record), to our Interim Conference Minister's making available "The Accessibility Audit," to the hiring of another clergy person with a disability, it has been a good year for the church's recognition of the value and wholeness of all persons.
Second Note: Keep your eyes open for our own Rev. Nancy Erickson's week of meditations in the latest These Days. Now, how about a couple dog stories?
If you have not considered calling a pastor who happens to have a disability, you might be missing quite a bit.
The first communion by intinction that Bob and I offered at our Burwell parish was also a first for Leader Dog Treasure to observe. Not to worry. I trusted him to stay in his "don't move a muscle, sleep-during-church position" beside my chancel chair until hearing my "Come" after the benediction.
All went well as Bob and I proceeded to the base of the steps with the elements. Then Bob issued the invitation to the congregation, "Come, for all things are ready." One by one, the people came through the line. There Treasure, my guide dog, was among them ready to partake, having discreetly descended the side stairs.
My hands were too full of communion bread, my tongue was too busy with communion words, and my voice was too microphoned to utter anything untactful; Treasure won. Of course, when we returned to the chancel, Treasure was too busy vacuuming the crumbs to follow. Is that biblical?
Then, at the First Advent with the pungent evergreen next to the chancel, I was at the lectern when Treasure again left his "Stay" position. He crossed the chancel to Bob, another first. After my quiet word, Treasure returned to his spot. I resumed my work.
Treasure took off again. Again, this obedient dog guide headed as discreetly as possible down the side steps. He walked directly to a friend in the congregation. "Will you please get me out of here? I can't breathe, and Bob and Dee aren't available."
I immediately re-titled the children's meditation, "Integrity and Doing What You Must," and my allergic dog spent the rest of Advent in comfort at the rear of the sanctuary beside a delighted church member.
All three of us, each with a unique ministry, have been accepted here for who we are "inside." My heart rejoices in this gift from a generous God to be sent to this particular congregation for God's particular reasons.
Reading the Signs is a can-do forum about accessibility for the whole church family edited by the Rev. Dee Brauninger, First Congregational UCC, Burwell, Nebraska
Written by Jennifer Shifrin
Available from Pathways to Promise
Phone: 314.644.8400
The Mental Illness Network, UCC, gathered in Hartsburg, Missouri, prior to General Synod (2001). Life stories shared by the group brought forth tears both of joy and of sorrow as we have heard about the continuing need to dispel misunderstanding and stigma in some of our" churches. But we also heard about the enlightened efforts of other congregations. One of the Synod songs, "I'm Gonna Sit at the Welcome Table," expressed the goal of every person, well or not, of being welcomed in our churches.
New bylaws were adopted and the following officers chosen: Bob Dell, chair- Robin Keating, vice-chair; Bryan Crousore, secretary and editor; Norma Mengel, treasurer. Robin Keating will have special responsibility for developing the Key Person Network. We want to have easy accessibility to resource and display materials, as well as educational programs, for use in local congregations.
First Ever Network Gathering, Mental Illness Network
The Mental Illness Network, UCC, gathered in Hartsburg, Missouri, prior to General Synod. Life stories shared by the group brought forth tears both of joy and of sorrow as we have heard about the continuing need to dispel misunderstanding and stigma in some of our" churches. But we also heard about the enlightened efforts of other congregations. One of the Synod songs, "I'm Gonna Sit at the Welcome Table," expressed the goal of every person, well or not, of being welcomed in our churches.
New bylaws were adopted and the following officers chosen: Bob Dell, chair- Robin Keating, vice-chair; Bryan Crousore, secretary and editor; Norma Mengel, treasurer. Robin Keating will have special responsibility for developing the Key Person Network. We want to have easy accessibility to resource and display materials, as well as educational programs, for use in local congregations.
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
The Rev. Dr. Dosia Carlson, a member of the wider United Church of Christ Disabilities Ministries community and a recipient of the United Church of Christ Antoinette Brown Award for excellence and pioneering in ministry, contracted polio the day she was to have entered high school.
To read the story of her spiritual and career journey go to www.ucc.org/women/finding.html
Written by C. Walton Giddy
Westminster/John Knox Press
Wayne E. Oates has written an engaging foreword to this book. The author describes his recovery from depression, including a period of hospitalization. Sharing the understandings to
Which he came in the recovery process, he reflects on how we are all equal in God's eyes.
Written by Harold H. Wilke
Publisher: Abingdon Press (February 2002)
ISBN:0687072840
Lively Memories of Embracing God's World.
Written by Virginia Kreyer
Story of the clergy woman with a disability who set the United Church of Christ Disabilities Ministries into motion in 1977.
Self-published. Contact Michelle Hintz in the UCC DM office in Cleveland, 216-736-3838
Written by persons with disabilities - UCC DM
Order from UC Resources at 800-537-3394
Finding us in the daily struggle, Dr. Carlson's music draws us forward with courage but never lets us diminish commitment.
When I was about to retire from the Church of the Beatitudes staff, a colleague said, "Dosia, you've left your mark on this church." Now, that could be a compliment, but he was laughingly pointing out the gouges on my office door left by my electric scooter.
During 30 years there, I wore out many electric wheelchair and scooter batteries.
Considering battery and maintenance costs, it is surprising to talk about "free wheeling."
Actually, my years in the ministry have been priceless.
The daughter of Alexander Carlson, a Congregational minister, I grew up sensing that the
church was my second home. I vowed early to be a missionary to China. However, the day before beginning high school, I entered the County Hospital in Toledo. Polio would alter my life, but I could still serve God.
As early as fourth grade, I wrote songs that expressed my faith. Now in my 70's, creating
hymns still helps me witness to God's presence. During high school days, I penned a revised life goal:
Our Lord said "Go into every nation
And tell my story to each race,
Relieve the suffering of all people;
Proclaim God's mercy, peace and grace.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
As others go into every nation
So may I follow in my mind.
Through earnest prayer and heartfelt giving,
I too may go and serve mankind.
And so I followed to Oberlin College and other university settings. One academic dean,
realizing that wheelchair mobility might limit career options, wanted to discourage me from becoming a teacher. I was determined to start professional life as a classroom teacher.
I became THE teacher in a one-room high school class for students with orthopedic
disabilities. I loved teaching yet felt drawn to full-time Christian ministry. Years at Hartford Seminary were challenging not only in terms of mind and soul-stretching classes, but also in terms of physical barriers.
Stairs everywhere meant I needed students with strong arms to carry me from one floor
to another. New England snowstorms motivated one student to mount a chair on a sled so friends could pull me through the drifts.
After seminary I shared my next fourteen years on the faculty at Defiance College in
Ohio. Teaching in the Religion Department and coordinating co-curricular activities helped keep me fully alive. Some hymns emerging during that era reflect varying moods. A quotation from St. Augustine inspired these words: "A Christian should be an alleluia . . . from head to foot! / Every cell of every muscle in this body I call "me" / Sings aloud in jubilation praising God unendingly." We used maracas and tambourines to punctuate the calypso rhythm.
By contrast, a more reflective yet vigorous hymn included this verse: "Renew us, 0 God,
when we lose our compassion, / Rekindle a smoldering conscience of care; / Surrounded by self our existence is bare; / Renew us, 0 God, by your spirit of love."
After moving to Phoenix in 1974, my hymn writing accelerated. I find a healing focus in
many hymn texts, particularly those written during my time of involvement in the parish nurse movement and the founding of the first hospice in Phoenix. When worried that a malignancy had returned to my leg, I rejoiced in news of a benign biopsy, even naming a hymn tune, BENIGN:
"Worry and fear we have fostered too long. / Spirits were weak when they should have been strong. / Now let us move from a sigh to a song. / Gloria, thanks be to God."
Sometimes a simple phrase spawns a hymn. While helping with a conference in
California, I dragged too much stuff along. Suddenly, words popped into my head: "Lighten my load, Lord, I want to lighten my load."
Working with aging persons and their care givers has dominated my Phoenix ministry.
When leading workshops or retreats dealing with aging and spirituality, I create new hymns. This refrain is for a hymn based on Psalm 92: "Still bearing fruit, morning after morning; / Still bearing fruit, year after year. / Faithful to God our creator, sustainer, / Thankful to God for planting us here."
I remain thankful to God for planting me here and for providing opportunities to
celebrate wholeness. A recently installed sanctuary chancel ramp is surely a cause for
celebration.
As my freewheeling retirement years enable me to volunteer in stimulating ways, I pray
that I can leave my mark through witnessing and not just by scraping doors with my wheelchair. No matter what happens, I know that "a Christian can always be an Alleluia!"
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
By Nancy L. Eiesland, forward by Rebecca S. Chopp, Abingdon Press.
Drawing from a variety of social scientists, theologians, and linguists, Nancy Eiesland claims that low social position and status are the primary handicapping conditions among people with disabilities rather than personal failure to "adjust." She then calls for a liberation theology that shifts the definition of the disabled from individuals who "need to adjust" to a minority group who can make both a theological and pastoral contribution.
This space is for sending in insights, tips, unresolved and resolved CWP situations in churches. You may have presented an accessibility-awareness concept or alternative solution to an attitudinal or architectural accessibility dilemna relating to your disability that you wish to share. You may have a story to tell. Please do so.
A Memorial to Dr. Wilke from UCC DM
Harold H. Wilke (12/10/1914 02/26/2003)
Harold Wilke
Strong Man
agile
limber
intellectual
caring
insightful
Born
2 legged
no arms
man
drank coffee, sipped tea
with his toes
took notes
walked into meetings
gave hope
focus
called by God to ministry
claimed by the church
affirmed by people president and pope
spoke words of blessing for accessibility
integrity
whose wholeness
offers others
hope
hospitality
--Jeanne Tyler
Harold Wilke, leader, mentor, and friend, will be remembered a giant and pioneer in building bridges between religious communities and systems of services and advocacy for people with disabilities and their families. Bill Gaventa
In the days when it was "polite" to open the door for a woman, Harold Wilke was visiting the campus of Chicago Theological Seminary. Nearing a door as we chatted, he slipped out of his right shoe, grabbed the door handle with his foot then proceeded to hold the door. We were amazed to see his flexibility and panache. His ability to overcome his disability spoke volumes to those who saw him at work. - Bob and Ruth Beck
Harold Wilke, dean of all differently able not only in our church but in our country and internationally. - David and Betty Jamieson
He made the difference between Miss Kreyer and the Rev. Miss Kreyer. When I applied to Union Seminary, one reason they accepted a person with severe cerebral palsy was that Harold Wilke had been accepted there and made it (as one of the first Americans with a serious disability to serve as a parish minister). - Virginia Kreyer
Having known Harold since grade school, I treasure most his passion for justice for all. He was an advocate for God's inclusive vision for the lgbt community, for the poor, for women, and for the disabled. - Lois M. Powell
I learned from Dr. Wilke that wholeness has little to do with the body. - Dallas Dee Brauninger
I give thanks for Harold's life and for the ways in which he shaped and supported my ministry. - Mary Susan Gast
Many years ago, Harold Wilke came to Fargo. A UCC pastor, I was asked to meet Dr. Wilke and take him home so he could change clothes before his speaking engagement. Not wanting to have our young daughters embarrass him by staring or making inappropriate comments, we warned that a gentleman would be coming to see us who had been born with no arms. As we chatted at the kitchen table, the girls and a couple friends came into the room to meet our guest and eat a cookie then ran out to play some more. Harold was so natural and gracious as he sat there drinking coffee with his toes that our girls simply did not notice. Later that evening, as we were getting ready for bed, one daughter looked at us with a puzzled expression. "When is the man without arms coming?" - W. Douglas Allen
"How do I act disabled? I've never been disabled before," the Father of Disability Ministry said as he sat with pride and humility in the wheelchair before entering a General Synod XX gathering. After my spinal cord injury, he gave me hope for a future despite losses, guiding my path to seminary, UCC, and U C C DM. His life taught us all how to do it. - Rita Fiero
"Harold was the inspiration for our Religion and Disability Program [of the National Organization on Disability. Harold was a founding Board Member]. His enthusiasm, self-acceptance, grit and twinkle allowed him to be a role model and a superb leader. He challenged all, with and without disabilities, to heal the divisions among God's children. Religious communities responded to his proclamation that people with disabilities are welcome and needed in the House of God." - Ginny Thornburgh, Director of N.O.D.
"With the death of the Rev. Harold H. Wilke, founder of the Healing Community, the disability rights movement has lost one of its giants...Harold was an early pioneer on witness by example of the effectiveness in life and in ministry, while living with a significant disability...Where will we find those who will enter into the challenges of disability rights work still needed in many faith communities including the United Methodist Church? Look around and see if you could encourage someone else to pick up on the challenges. We need to confront the architectural, attitudinal, and program barriers preventing persons with disabilities from full involvement. -- John A. Carr, United Methodist Church, General Board of Global Ministries
"The word 'sacrament' means an outward sign of an invisible reality. For the disability movement, Harold is our sacrament. Harold makes visible that to be an effective pastor or church executive or world leader or visionary, you do not have to shake hands; that you can claim 'Leaning on the Everlasting Arms' as a favorite hymn when you do not have arms. This sacrament -- this outward sign of a too often invisible reality was his life and ministry among us." -- words offered at Harold Wilke's Memorial Service by David Denham
"Move [us] to discard those old beliefs and attitudes that limit and diminish those among us with disabilities." - From Dr. Wilke's blessing at the signing into law of the American Disabilities Act, 1990.
The U C C D M has designated a fund to honor the life and ministry of Harold H. Wilke, devoted minister, disability advocate and pioneer. His exemplary ministry within the UCC and the world forged a path for leaders with disabilities to emerge. Donations to the U.C.C.DM continue to support his legacy so that leaders with disabilities continue to rise in our midst.
A UCC minister, the first chair of the U C C D M (then the National Committee for Persons with Disabilities), a member of the U.S. Council for the Year of Disabled Persons and a founding board member of both the National Organization on Disability (N.O.D.) and its international arm, the World Committee on Disability -- Dr. Wilke was noted for his unique role delivering the blessing at the White House signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act on July 26, 1990. Following the signing, President George H.W. Bush passed the signing pen to Rev. Wilke, who accepted it with his foot -- because he was born without arms.
Rev. Wilke focused on his own abilities, rather than his disability. He had a distinguished career in four areas of service: the Church, rehabilitation medicine, teaching and government. Ordained as a minister of the United Church of Christ, Dr. Wilke served on the faculty at Union Theological Seminary in New York, the UCC national staff, and directed The Healing Community, which promotes awareness about access to a life of faith. He published numerous books and articles, including "Creating the Caring Congregation, Angels on My Shoulders, among others" for congregations moving to integrate persons with disabilities into the life and service of faith communities.
Donations to the John Wilke Disablities Ministries Fund may be sent to:
Ms Michelle Hintz
Local Church Ministries
700 Prospect Ave.
Cleveland Ohio 44115-1100
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
Entering the World of Disability
Author: Robert F. Molsberry
Publisher: Augsburg Fortress, 2004
ISBN 0-8066-4572-5
An ordained UCC pastor, Bob Molsberry is Ohio Conference Minister elect. He serves as Vice-Chair of the United Church of Christ Disabilities Ministries Board.
From the Book Jacket
Blindsided by Grace is an engaging exploration of disability for those facing limitation or loss in their lives. A pastor, husband, father and triathlete, Robert F. Molsberry was left parapalegic following a near-fatal hit and run accident in 1997. After a long period of recovery and rehabilitation, he has returned to an active life, including family, ministry and athletics.
Molsberry confronts stereotypes surrounding the experience of disability, comparing his adjustment to an immersion in an alien culture. A disability is not just a physical or mental impairment; cultural, political and theological factors are as important as a medical diagnosis in understanding the concept of disability. With honesty and humor, Molsberry uncovers positive as well as negative aspects of his experience. He is the author of many published articles, both before and after incurring his disability.
Author: ALBERT A. HERZOG, JR.
This synposis was prepared by David E. Denham.
Since its inception as a union between the Congregational Christian Churches and the Evangelical and Reformed Church in 1957, the United Church of Christ has been a leading American denomination which seeks to be faithful to its Christian heritage by making faith its own in each generation. In its location within contemporary society, the United Church of Christ has sought to maintain dialogue with the major issues of the day.
The movement within the United Church of Christ to integrate persons with physical, developmental and emotional impairments into its life and into society is borne out the conviction that both are necessary for the denomination to be an effective witness to all people. The UCC is one of several mainline Protestant denominations, which in the late 1970’s, embraced a national movement which was to have profound impact on American society. The gradual movement of disabilities into the mainstream resulted in giving voice to persons with disabilities who emerged as challengers to virtually every aspect of social life impacting upon them. The culmination of this movement came when President Geroge H. W. Bush signed the Americans with Disabilities Act in 1990.
Two ordained clergy would bring leadership to the disability movement within the UCC, Harold H. Wilke and Virginia Kreyer. Born with no arms, Wilke was the founder and director of the Healing Community, graduate of many distinguished schools of higher education, chaplain, administrator, and pastor. The Healing Community is an inter-faith religious organization assisting congregations to welcome those who had been alienated by religious groups, including (but not exclusively), persons with disabilities.
The second ordained person, who brought profound leadership to the disability movement within the UCC was Virginia Kreyer. Born with cerebral palsy, Kreyer was ordained in the American Baptist Church. She served several years as a member of the professional staff to the local affiliate of the United Cerebral Palsy Association. After some time, she left her American Baptist congregation and joined the local UCC. Kreyer approached the Metropolitan Association requesting to have her credentials recognized. The officials were interested but required the Ms. Kreyer have a ministry to which she could be assigned. Subsequently, the Association suggested she assume the responsibility of providing leadership for the Task Force on Exceptional People which she was ultimately to initiate and direct.
In 1976, this Task Force decided to present a resolution to the New York Conference. The resolution arrived late and was not considered until its last session. During discussion, a visitor from Japan arose to note that he had traveled across the United Stated and had not seen one person with a disability. In response, Ms. Kreyer took the floor and gave an impassioned speech in support of the resolution. The Conference responded by passing it unanimously and referred it to the next General Synod. On Monday, July 4, 1977, the Eleventh General Synod adopted the resolution entitled “The Church and the Handicapped.†Both Kreyer and Wilke gave speeches in favor of the action.
To implement this General Synod resolution, an Advisory Committee on the Church and the Handicapped was formed. Harold Wilke, the first chairperson, called the inaugural meeting to order March 8, 1978. Virginia Kreyer had already been named the paid consultant to support this ministry.
This body emerged through name changes to the committee, structural changes within the committee, and restructure of the wider church to be known today as the UCC Disabilities Ministries (UCC DM), and to be a fully recognized voting member of the Executive Council. The UCC DM is located in Local Church Ministries. Up to nine persons may serve on the UCC DM. In 1992, this committee supported the development of the Mental Illness Network (MIN). In 1995, Virginia Kreyer retired. In 1996, David Denham assumed the role of consultant. Like Kreyer, Denham had developed a Task Force on disability issues in the Central Atlantic Conference. Denham also had served as chairperson of the National Committee on Persons with Disabilities. The UCC DM has representation on the National Council of Churches Committee on Disabilities.
The UCC DM and MIN are shaped today by three primary General Synod resolutions and other key initiatives:
1995
1999
A History of the United Church of Christ Disabilities Ministries presented by David Denham, UCC DM Consultant at the UCC DM Annual Board Meeting
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Stage 1: Pioneering (1977-1989)
Stage 2: Coming of Age (1990-2005)
Stage 3: A Movement within the United Church of Christ (2006-)
Inclusion of Clergy with Disabilities
Introduction
Theological Rationale
Text of the Resolution
WHEREAS, in 1977 the Eleventh General Synod approved the Pronouncements, "The Church and Persons with Handicaps," which encouraged all settings of the United Church of Christ to implement full employment of persons with disabilities;
WHEREAS, in 1981 the Thirteenth General Synod approved the Proposal for Action, "The Church and Persons with Handicaps," which included Calls for affirmative action in the hiring of persons with disabilities in our local churches and throughout the church;
WHEREAS, in 1985 the Fifteenth General Synod approved "Full Participation for Persons with Disabilities in the Life of the Church," which "recommends that local churches, associations, conferences, instrumentalities and other national bodies seek out persons with disabilities to become actively involved in all aspects of the church;"
WHEREAS, in 1995 the Twentieth General Synod approved "Concerning the Church and the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA)," which challenges the United Church of Christ to embrace the spirit of the ADA and hold itself to be morally bound by the provisions of the ADA which prohibit employment discrimination against person with disabilities; and
WHEREAS, despite the above General Synod actions, barriers remain within local churches, conferences, and national boards to calling clergy with disabilities to serve;
THEREFORE, BE IT RESOLVED that in the next two years, there be an aggressive campaign to assist clergy persons with disabilities in the call process. The Office for Church Life and Leadership and/or its successor body in partnership with the NCPWD is requested to lead this effort;
BE IT FURTHER RESOLVED that the Office for Church Life and Leadership and/or its successor body, in partnership with the NCPWD is requested to develop educational programs and resources for the church to address discrimination against clergy persons with disabilities and to include appropriate materials in research committee notebooks.
BE IT FINALLY RESOLVED that all United Church of Christ related seminaries be urged to remove barriers-- architectural, attitudinal, and cultural-which prohibit persons with disabilities from receiving the same preparation as non-disabled persons. Funding for this action will be made in accordance with the overall mandates of the affected agencies and the funds available.
Prudential Resolution: Requires a majority vote for passage.
The Reverend Doctor Hugh V. Nash has served Zion UCC in Perry Hall, Maryland, for the past 17 years. Prior to coming to Zion UCC, he served in other denominations as a pastor for a grand total of 25 years of service.
Robert Brooks, Licensed Minister at Zion, described Hugh as "a softhearted loving man who does not put on any 'airs.' He is the genuine article; what you see is what you get." Hugh's disability is no secret, the minister said, and he has not allowed his bi polar illness to keep him from being Zion's "Good Shepherd."
However, two decades ago in order to receive a call, Dr. Nash had no choice but to knowingly avoid telling the search committee about his mental illness, said church member, Elizabeth E.W. Kirk. "As the congregation came to understand Hugh's total openness about his disease," she said, "we came to know someone who struggles every day to survive. In watching this daily struggle year after year, we came to understand depression and mania."
Hugh's openness and advocacy on behalf of mental health issues have encouraged many in the congregation to know that it is all right to seek help when they need it, to share their concerns with the rest of the congregation and not be ashamed of their various degrees and periods of depression, she said.
Reaching beyond the local church and into the community because of Hugh Nash's attitude, Kirk herself became an advocate for the depressed elderly and also was instrumental in beginning the first in house (Congregate Housing Program) mental health program in Baltimore. "It is important that people with mental illness feel that they are understood and have people who truly care about them," she said.
Three years ago under Hugh's leadership, two endangered UCC churches in a changing area of Baltimore city became and are now one vibrant, growing Zion UCC in Perry Hall. "If you come to visit you will find a warm and loving congregation ready to embrace you. There are no strangers here," Brooks said. "Hugh makes sure of that."
"We don't think our way into new ways of acting; we act our way into new ways of thinking." - Harold Wilke (1914-2003)
Two years ago when Jo Ackerman was an E.L.M. student, the Friend church paid her way to General Synod. Recently, she said that the awards luncheon for outstanding persons with disabilities made a significant influence upon her own ministry.
"All those other people with disabilities far worse than mine who were doing it. I remembered that as I mustered the courage to go for a church position," Jo said. "If they were doing it, certainly I could give it a try." Jo serves our church at Clay Center and has become a mentor herself.
Mentors come in many forms. There are planned mentors, those of confirmands, older marrieds with younger marrieds, and mentors for students of reading or math. There is also the accidental wisdom of one person with a disability modeling hope for another to follow the calling. These mentors rise from the reading of a United Church News article written by a person with a disability who lives across the country.
Mentors come from this column. They come as two clergy members of our Disabilities Ministries Task Force. The persistence of the Rev. Jeanne Tyler and the quiet and understanding of the Rev. Nancy Erickson inform all around them about hope.
Mentors come as we need their wisdom, yet none is accidental. They are given. They dawn on us years after a chance meeting. Throughout my first months at the Chicago Theological Seminary, no longer able to read print and wondering if I were foolish to follow the calling of my heart, I summoned the words of the seminary staff person sent to interview me at college. By chance, he also lived with serious visual difficulties. His confident attitude intimated that I would find my way.
The following year, a minister named Harold Wilke visited the seminary dining room and sat at a nearby table. Slipping his foot out of his loafer, he began to eat. I was as fascinated with a sock that had toes in it as with his agility in managing both silverware and coffee cup. I had not noticed that he was without arms.
After that only encounter, Dr. Wilke has remained a source of wisdom in my ministry. As additional physical difficulties develop, it is he who comes to mind as encouraging presence. Many readers knew him as the minister who offered the blessing at the signing into law of the American Disabilities Act of 1990. I learned from him that wholeness has little to do with the body.
Reading the Signs is a can-do forum about accessibility for the whole church family edited by the Rev. Dee Brauninger, First Congregational UCC, Friend, Nebraska
After serving twenty-five years in parish ministry, Dave was called as minister for the Eastern Association, Minnesota Conference UCC, in 1995.
I have lived with aggressive Crohn's Disease all my adult life. Some manage to control it without surgery and achieve long periods of remission from active symptoms. Others lose their entire intestinal track and must receive all fluids and nutrients intravenously.
To date, I have had eleven major surgeries and about a hundred hospitalizations. At age 32, I had my first colostomy surgery. I now have an ileostomy, which has been revised several times.
In my twenties with still much bowel remaining, I enjoyed remission and resumed distance running. Some years even later, I could compete in a dozen road races some years. In between, flare-ups brought me close to death.
In recent years because of the loss of most intestine, I struggle to avoid dehydration and electrolyte imbalance. Twice,, I have been denied admission to public events. One event was at a 1993 General Synod session.
Long ago, I decided not to hand over to this fierce disease *my life, identity, and deep * sense of calling to ordained ministry. A defining moment happened shortly after my first colostomy surgery. While registering at a United Ostomy Association meeting, I noticed the pre-registration name tags of Sue Smith, "ileostomate;" Ray Jones, "urostomate;" Nat Doe, "colostomate." I crossed out "colostomate" on mine and added in tiny print, "Child of God, son, husband, father, brother, minister." Some thought I was just being cute. For me, it was then and remains a deeply important issue. Persons with disabilities should not be defined by what does not work. We are people first.
During a recent sabbatical, I started writing a book, tentatively titled, "Laughing at the Devil: Spiritual Resources for Living with Chronic Illness." I began to think systematically about how, despite its great liability, living with Crohn's has become a gift for ministry and how those same gifts might be discovered by others in unique circumstances.
We develop these competencies in response to a personal need. Most spiritual resources do not show up ready to use but require considerable shaping and refining. When first emerging, they may collide with something else already in place.
Part of my ministry is to assist persons in the course of pastoral conversation to find their own way to one or more of these spiritual resources:
- Finding voice in the midst of a powerful, sophisticated medical culture;
- Discerning how to receive needed help without losing sense of self;
- Listening deeply to others' voices;
- Praying when tending to pray cautiously;
- Laughing as a medium for experiencing God's grace and mercy;
- Seeing the life that God has put in us when all the world sees is disability; and
- Recognizing signs of grace and mercy around and within us.
As Eastern Association Minister in the Minnesota Conference, living with this invisible disability also influences how I prepare local church search committees to consider ministerial candidates who may have a disability. Teaching how to read ministerial profiles, I suggest:
"Many pastors who live with a disability will talk about their situation in profile item #13, 'Special Factors.' I urge pastors to disclose to search committees a disability that they may have because I think that folks like you will respond well to being trusted with such information.
"Even more, I urge pastors who have a disability to let you know how living with that disability has become a gift for ministry. Sometimes pastors who have a disability are afraid to mention it in their profiles for fear that search committees will stop reading, immediately rejecting them.
"I encourage you not to do that but rather to focus on each pastor's gifts for ministry. You may find someone with a disability who has discovered and developed incredibly great gifts for ministry out of that disability. Those may be exactly the cluster of gifts for ministry that your church needs."
Most search committees take this to heart and genuinely open themselves to considering these gifts for ministry.
People will ask questions from spiritual struggles that they suspect I also have encountered. The most common, "Don't you ever wonder why God allowed a disease like this that can be so physically painful and debilitating and socially isolating to happen to you?"
I just do not blame God or connect God with the onset of this crummy disease. What does amaze me is the abundance of God's grace and blessing. Over and over it lifts me out of despair, giving me the capacity to see what a blessing my life is by God's grace and to laugh at the devil.
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
Mitzi Eilts is national coordinator for the UCC Coalition for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and
Transgender Concerns.
I'm almost fifty years old and have been female my whole life. For most of my adult life I've been at home (spiritually and emotionally) with the facts that my identity is not heterosexual and my life partner is another female. For all the rejection, oppression, and hatred that truth can evoke -- coming home to myself has been a gift of God's good companionship.
Are you wondering what all this has to do with disability? Coming to experience my whole identity as holy gift, including my particular embodiment as female, has been great preparation for coming home to myself as one with a chronic disability.
I have remitting-relapsing Multiple Sclerosis (MS), diagnosed four years ago. While I may escape significant deterioration of physical mobility, I meet chronic fatigue, sight issues, overt problems with heat and stress, and difficulties with hand coordination and cognitive dysfunction.
Neither my disability nor my sexual orientation is immediately obvious. Only when I make them known are others aware.
MS, like my sexual identity, has caused me to look deeply into who I am, the meaning of my life, and where and how God moves in all that. Through this journey I have gained new, different connections with the Divine, myself, and others.
Changed, not devastated, I made serious internal adjustments in self view and self-expectations. I learned about MS, what the medical world doesn't yet know about it, and treatment options. Flexible health insurance gives medical choices and resources, an important factor in my ability to cope.
From the beginning, I refused to let any sense of shame, others' or my own, make me hide what I live with. Informing people about my MS could negatively affect their view of me and limit their expectations.
So why do I share this information? In coming "out" of the closet years ago I learned that hiding parts of myself is dangerous and destructive to both my physical and spiritual/emotional self.
My soul is healthier in my body and spirit when I avoid expending energy hiding who I am and how I'm feeling.
My disability is somewhat invisible; as long as I don't tell, it is assumed I am able-bodied. So I tell -- neither for sympathy nor excuse but to be associated with anyone whose differences cannot (and should not) be hidden. I become one more "demanding" person seeking justice (accommodation and change) and a full place in society with all my imperfections and talents.
I have become sensitive to making the church (and all society) hospitable for all. I noted at the Coalition's National Gathering how much all have to learn about making the church a place where everyone can come and be welcome.
From our first meeting, planners kept in mind hilly Seattle campuses. We reduced transitions between buildings. We budgeted for vans, ASL interpreters, and child care. We assigned persons to contact registrants indicating specific needs.
It wasn't enough. We could have had a greeter out front to assist with problems. Lift-less vans were useless for wheelchair users who cannot step up. Ultimately, willingness to problem solve and authority to act will make the difference for what leaders fail to anticipate.
We must utilize the expertise of those trained to look at all possibilities and know the pitfalls of sincere but inexperienced solutions. That's true whether talking about differences in abilities, race/ethnicity, class, gender and sexual identity, or language.
For me, the lesson is universal and obvious. The more diverse those who are included in being the church are, the more welcoming church can be.
With MS, I have found once again what it means to believe as I say I do. Loving God with my body, soul, and mind is essential to being spiritual. Loving my neighbor as myself is to be faithful. Working with my body and mind -- in thought and spirit, connecting with others, with creation, with silence, with ideas -- is where and how I encounter communion with God.
Persons with disabilities know in body and soul the struggle to love ourselves and to love God with our whole selves. We meet these realities daily, moment by moment. Although no one has all the answers, each has unique insights to bring to the mix of this reality that points to Truth.
Jeanne Tyler co-chairs the UCCDM board and is co-pastor of Saint Paul UCC, Lincoln,
Nebraska
He told them another parable: "The [realm of God] is like yeast which a woman took and . . . ." - Matthew 13:33
Slowly bubbling along with warm water and sugar, yeast grows as it rises into dough and bakes into bread. This image from Jesus' rich parable is especially apt for persons with disability and our call to serve.
We have been around forever and have been bubbling slowly ever so slowly into the wholeness of life, bringing the church into the fullness of transformation along with all who have been marginalized, made invisible. With many and diverse gifts, some serve and others are served.
Mostly invisible for years, persons with disability are everywhere in every race and culture. We are truly the yeast that is transforming to this church. Yeast bubbles, slowly and persistently raising the dough. Persons with disability slowly and persistently insist on our call to serve.
I love the church. Here I first experienced acceptance and affirmation. Here I was included in its life. Here I began pulling my life together and trusting God. I gained courage to claim as mine the call to serve. Taken into community, I claim the community and as a member serve by offering my gifts.
The church struggles with discovering us who have been invisible for so long. Called to serve as lay leaders, as ordained, as preachers and teachers, as missionaries, we often feel vulnerable to our own visibility. At times persons with disability make tremendous sacrifices in order to serve.
The church has the temptation to see in my body only the image of brokenness and insist it be whole. I call the church to resist this temptation. I call the church to honor our call to serve in all settings of the church. The church that is made whole sees in our bodies the transformation that is called forth by the leaven to rise so that all may serve. The dough rises and is baked only to be broken and shared to make people whole.
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
This questionnaire was completed several years ago. Please contact its producer for follow-up information.
Produced by Laura-Jean Gilbert.
Dear Reader of the UCC National Committee on Persons with Disabilities Newsletter:
Are you, an individual with a disability? Did you attend a UCC seminary? If you answered "Yes" to both these questions, I need your help! This newsletter insert contains a questionnaire that asks questions about the experiences of people who have a disability who attended a UCC-related seminary program. Please take a few minutes to respond to the questionnaire -- take even longer, if you could, to share some of your specific experiences. Your response can be returned through the mail, by FAX, or via e-mail. But I would request that responses be returned by the end of June of this year. If you do not have a disability or, are not a UCC seminary alumnus/a but know someone who fits these categories, please pass this insert and its questionnaire along to them.
Responses to this questionnaire will provide data for a study that is looking at the question of whether UCC affiliated or related seminaries are accessible to or discriminatory toward individuals who have a disability.
The total study project will become my Ph.D. dissertation in the field of special education
administration at Gailaudet University. It will also be shared with the UCC National Committee on Persons with Disabilities and with the Issues on Disabilities and Access (IDA) Taskforce of the Central Atlantic Conference (of which I am a former member). I want to thank both that task force and the National Committee on Persons with Disabilities for their interest and support!
And I want to thank you, the readers of this newsletter; for your help!
Laura-Jean Gilbert
PO Box 424 FAX: (603) 495-0359
Washington, NH 03280 E-mail: ljgilb@aol.com
(UCC directly-related and affiliated seminaries: Andover-Newton, Bangor, Chicago, Eden, Evangelical (Puerto Rico), Interdenominational (Atlanta), Hartford, Harvard, Howard, Lancaster, Pacific, Union (N.Y.), United, Vanderbilt, Yale)
UCC Seminaries and Students with Disabilities QUESTIONNAIRE
The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) "defines an 'individual with a disability' as a person who has a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activities, has a record of such an. Impairment or is regarded as having such an Impairment." If you attended a UCC directly-related or affiliated seminary and you consider yourself to have had a disability that fits the ADA definition when you were a seminary student, please help us by taking time to respond to this questionnaire.
You may use additional paper to answer these questions or comment on them.
1. Please indicate the type of disability you have (or had) at the time you were a seminary student:
2. Which UCC seminary did you attend?
3. During what years were you a student?
4. What is your birth date:
5. What degree program were you in?
6. Did you graduate? Yes No Still enrolled
7. When you entered the seminary, what was your career goal?
local church ministry teaching
pastoral counseling chaplaincy
other (please explain)
8. When you applied, did you inform the seminary that you had a disability?
- Yes No Don't remember
9. Did you request any special accommodation related to your disability when you enrolled or began classes?
No Yes
(If yes, what accommodation did you request and did the seminary provide that
accommodation?)
10. While you were a student at the seminary did you find the buildings and grounds of the seminary to be accessible to you?
not at all only a little to some degree
mostly accessible totally accessible
11. Did you find the teaching methods used by faculty and/or technologies employed in the classroom supportive of your accessibility needs?
. . not at all only a little to some degree
mostly accessible - totally accessible
12. Was seminary housing suitable or adapted for a person with your disability?
Yes No Don't know
13. Beyond the classroom, were seminary programs, such as community worship, special
lectures, or student activities, accessible to you?
not at all only a little to some degree
mostly accessible totally accessible
14. Were you aware of other people with disabilities in the seminary community?
Yes No
15. When you attended the seminary did it offer specific courses related to disability issues?
Yes No Don't know (or don't remember)
If you answered "'yes," in what areas of the curriculum were the courses offered? (Check any/all that apply.)
Pastoral ministry Old or New Testament
Pastoral counseling - Christian Education
Ethics Other(?)
16. From your experiences in seminary, what approach(es) were taken to disability issues?
(Check any/all that apply.)
As punishment for sin
As a test of faith
As opportunities for God's intervention
As opportunities for growth and learning
As examples of redemptive suffering
As examples of God's mysterious omnipotence
As examples of the interdependence of the universe
As opportunities for Christian community
Other(?)
17. Did you seek employment related to your seminary training after graduation?
Yes No Already had employment
If you answered yes, how much difficulty did you have finding employment?
18. Please share any other comments or specific experiences that you had as a seminary student that might help us understand your experiences as a seminary student with a disability.
We are asking respondents to identify themselves so that we might be able to follow up with questions. However, you may reply anonymously if you prefer. No use of the data collected will identify individuals. The report will include identified experiences of a handful of individuals who will be interviewed directly for this purpose.
Name.
Mailing address:
Telephone:
E-mail address:
I would like to receive a copy of the results of this study.
Please return this questionnaire and any other information you wish to append or include by the end of June of this year to:
L. J. Gilbert PO Box 424
Washington, NH 03280
Or you may respond via FAX to (603) 495-0359
or mail to ljgilb@aol.com
An Update on the Study of UCC-Related Seminaries and Their Students with Disabilities
As announced in the April 1999 issue of this newsletter, the study of seminaries affiliated with or related to the UCC and students with disabilities in well underway. The researcher doing the study, Laura Jean Gilbert, has visited nine of the 14 seminaries located in the continental U.S. and has plans to visit three additional seminaries in the coming month.
In the fall of 1999, a letter from David Denham was sent to each of the 14 seminaries explaining the study and inviting their participation. Those 14 seminaries are Andover-Newton Theological School, Bangor Theological Seminary, Chicago Theological Seminary, Eden Theological Seminary, Hartford Seminary, Harvard Divinity School, Howard University School of Divinity, The Interdenominational Theological Center, Lancaster Theological Seminary, Pacific School of Religion, Union Theological Seminary, United Theological Seminary, The Divinity School at Vanderbilt University, and Yale Divinity School. Almost all of the seminaries are participating in the study. Bangor Seminary declined to participate, and Howard has not responded to letters, phone calls, or e-mail communication. Therefore, final results will include six directly-related and six affiliated seminaries.
A pilot study was done last fall at Princeton Seminary, and data from that study was used to revise the questionnaires used in the actual study. Princeton had been through a year-long analysis by an architectural firm of its facilities related to the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), and those findings were made available to our researcher. Our study is considering not only the facilities of each seminary, but also current and recent past enrolled students who have identified themselves as having a disability. It also involves a questionnaire distributed to full-time faculty asking them about their personal experiences with individuals who have a disability in their classes, and it looks for specific recent books about individuals with disabilities -- such as The Disabled God by Nancy Eiesland -- in each seminary's library. The researcher hopes to do an analysis of all the collected data over the summer and submit a final report to UCC Disabilities Ministries by fall 2000.
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
The Rev. Ms. Virginia Kreyer was honored at the Twenty-third General Synod in July 2001 by being the first recipient of an award that bears her name. Virginia may be reached through the UCC DM.
"Handicap" has been an English language word since 1653 and was originally a sporting term. It did not acquire the meaning of "physical disability" until 1915. In recent years, the word "handicapped" has been seen by some as negative and offensive. It stresses shortcomings and what is lacking and implies that persons with disabilities are less worthy
Virginia Kreyer, Consultant 1978-1995 Shares Memories
How far we have come since 1977! Few members of the United Church of Christ know how ministries to and with persons with disabilities began. In 1952, I was ordained by another denomination with the understanding that I would work at the local Cerebral Palsy Center (CPC). My responsibilities included sharing with that denomination what the church should and could do for persons with disabilities -- then called the handicapped -- and their families. A dispute with my local church led to my joining Garden City Community Church (UCC) of the Metropolitan Association in the New York Conference (1971).
Educating Metropolitan Association pastors and congregations of the needs of persons with disabilities became my ministry. I wrote a paper emphasizing the need for pastoral support and counseling for persons with disabilities and their families resulting in the formation of a committee (1971) that I chaired. We gave talks, offered workshops, published a directory of resources, and encouraged pastors ... but made little headway.
In 1976, the committee wrote a resolution for the New York Conference that missed the Executive Committee deadline. At the Annual Meeting, I was told there was no room on the agenda, but that I should be present for every session should there be an opening. The following morning the first presentation was given by a missionary from Japan who said, among other things "I have traveled 2,300 miles in New York State and have not seen one person with a disability. Where are they?" When he finished, the moderator announced, "We have a resolution on persons with disabilities. I ran to the nearest microphone and without prior preparation explained its importance. I pointed out that the church was carrying out the ministries of preaching and teaching but ignoring the ministry of healing commanded by our Lord Christ.
The resolution passed unanimously and next went to the Eleventh General Synod held in Washington, D.C. (1977). Prior to presenting the resolution, persons with disabilities led a parade of banners at the Sunday worship service in Washington National Cathedral and the Rev. Dr. Harold Wilke and I addressed its importance at a plenary. This resulted in working with persons with disabilities becoming an Eleventh General Synod top priority.
At the fall 1977 Executive Committee meeting, the resolution was assigned to the Division of Health and Welfare, United Church Board for Homeland Ministries (UCBHM), under the leadership of Helen Webber. I was asked to be a one-day-a-week consultant, a commitment that began March1978. The Division of Higher Education added a second day a week to my portfolio in 1984, specifically for visiting UCC colleges and seminaries to educate students, faculty, and staff of the needs and abilities of persons with disabilities. I retired in 1995.
Among the newsworthy events of the last twenty-four years for the UCCDM are:
Began National Committee on Persons with Disabilities in 1987 (name changed from Committee on Persons with Handicaps).
Became General Synod presence with Exhibit Hall booth, 1977-present, caucus 1983 (or 1985)-present; awards presentations, 1987-present.
Passed resolutions affirming and reaffirming full participation of persons with disabilities in life of the church at the Eleventh, Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth General Synods, and passed a resolution requesting churches, Conferences, and the national offices conform to Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA) at the Twentieth General Synod.
How far we have come since 1977. Thanks are to God!
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
The Rev. Doris Powell has been the Director of Finance and Treasurer of the United Church of Christ since 1990. In the current structure, she is one of three officers of the Church, along with the President and the Secretary. This is not a position she ever expected to hold. But then, a lot of things in her life have not been as she expected. Until she was in her early 30s, Doris was a physically active person. She loved backpacking, canoeing, camping - any noncompetitive outdoor sport that got her into nature. She looked forward to living some day in Colorado where she planned on hiking to her heart's content. All of that changed when she was diagnosed with severe rheumatoid arthritis. For the first six months, she had constant acute pain. Then, medication and an exercise regimen began to help, and she felt very thankful not to be in as much pain.
In the early months of her illness she experienced an identity crisis, asking God, "Who am I? The competent, active person I used to be, or the sidelined person I am now?" She also asked, "Is it better to accept my limitations, or to fight and deny them?" At the same time, she moved to a new community, and her new friends there responded to her as a person with a serious illness, which was not what she was used to. It seemed as if they were responding to a person she didn't even recognize. When she visited her former community, people there were shocked because she was so different from how they had known her. It was a confusing and troubling time.
Before her diagnosis Doris thought she knew about tough times. There were periods when she thought life was very hard and she felt very negative about it. Though she acknowledges that this negativism had its pleasures, she began not to like this part of herself, especially how she was taking it out on other people. She felt stuck and prayed for guidance. And, she had a friend who became her role model in finding more positives in life, who coped gracefully with much worse circumstances than Doris was coping with at that time, and who helped her learn to see things in a different, more positive way. This was a significant change in her life.
When she was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, she brought that understanding as a resource into this new situation. And she was able, in time, to find the answers to the questions she had been asking. Attending the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, CA, was part of her response to her new circumstances. In leaving her career as a Certified Public Accountant, she acted on her sense of discipleship, wanting to study and understand her faith better, and to learn to deal with the hard questions of life. Her sense of call was unclear when she started seminary, and she expected that it would be clarified as her studies progressed.
As she started her third year though, she still had not discerned her call. So, when a friend asked if she could send Doris a 'resume' for the position of UCC Director of Finance and Treasurer, she prayed about it and thought it worth exploring. She was surprised at every step in that process that the Search Committee still wanted to continue dialogue with her. Despite how hard it was to be sure where God was leading her, Doris trusted that if she pursued different avenues to see where they would lead and believed that the other people involved in the process were also trying to discern God's readings, her path would become clear. And, it did. She has been amazed that her gifts in accounting match well with serving the church as Director of Finance and Treasurer. It's not what she had expected, yet it has felt so right.
This confirmed for Doris the answers she received to the questions she asked God when she was first diagnosed. After much time in prayer, the answer to "Who am I" was, "You are my beloved child. I know who you are. Who you've been and who you are becoming are both a part of you. Accept what is, but don't let it determine what your life is going to be. This won't determine whether you can be happy or not. You are my disciple, and don't think you're going to sit on the sidelines. I have something for you to do."
Doris finds that she appreciates life much more than she had: the beauty of flowers, of sunshine, of many things she didn't really see before. She became more compassionate as she realized that everyone struggles with something that raises these difficult questions in their lives. She understood that we don't have a clue to that of which we are capable of coping until we realize that we must choose to give up or find a way to deal with it. When she has seen other people facing with courage what seemed to be even worse situations, she has found inspiration. She has learned what her happiness really depends upon: living life, despite tough circumstances, with grace and hope. She sees that being friendly, kind, and thoughtful helps others return the same to her. These have been life-changing "Aha!" moments.
All these insights have assisted her in coping with her latest challenge: having both of her knees replaced in the fall, 1999, as recommended by her surgeon. She asked many questions and researched rehabilitation facilities to determine what was involved in recovery, and decided to proceed with the surgery. She found the support group at the rehabilitation facility very helpful and observed how much each person's attitude impacted recovery. She also felt humbled to see people dealing with strokes and other devastating injuries whose prospects for recovery were not as promising as hers.
Doris knew already that "God gives us support and strengthens us and lifts us up," but she felt an almost miraculous awareness of that when she was in rehabilitation. Her recovery was actually much easier then she had imagined, with every day seeming very doable. She wondered how that could be until she remembered how many people were praying for her. "God holds us up more than we realize all the time. There is so much support there."
Now comes another challenge as she waits, along with the rest of the national staff, to learn what the new structure will mean for her. Since her surgery, she has much more energy than before, which gives her courage, to consider roles that previously seemed impossible. She doesn't feel invested in any particular position, praying that she will be led to a place to serve where she will be happy, where her gifts will be well used, and that will have the right amount of challenge for her. As with the many unexpected things that have happened in her life, who knows what the next step will be?
Yet in the midst of that uncertainty, what is clear is that, wherever and with whomever Doris serves, the people around her will be privileged to share in the gifts that God has given to the world through this compassionate, strong, faith-filled woman. It is a blessing to UCC Disabilities Ministries that the Rev. Doris Powell is a part of our work.
Sidebar: "You are my beloved child. I know who you are. Who you've been and who you are becoming are both a part of you. Accept what is, but don't let it determine what your life is going to be. This won't determine whether you can be happy or not. You are my disciple, and don't think you are going to sit on the sidelines. I have something for you to do."
Editor's Note: Since the writing of this article, Rev. Doris Powell has been named staff person for Pastors and Seminarians, Stewardship and Church Finances
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
Jeanne Tyler is one of the members of the National Committee on Persons with Disabilities (NCPWD). She has been an ordained clergy woman for more than 20 years and lives in and serves two churches in Nebraska. Just recently she represented the UCC at a National Council of Churches of Christ (NCC) event in Charlotte, NC. The purpose of the event was to examine employment issues within the structure of the NCC for both people of color and persons with disabilities.
Jeanne was the child of her mother's fifth pregnancy. Her parents were Rh factor incompatible. Because she was not transfused as a newborn, this has caused her to have cerebral palsy (cp.) - which affects her gait, a 55% hearing loss, bone loss and a speech impairment. Her hearing loss was not diagnosed until Jeanne was in third grade. Up until that time, she had been considered not very bright. Even so, it took until she was in college to be properly fitted with hearing aids in both ears.
During her growing-up-years it was expected that she would go to college, though her family of origin was opposed to her dream of pursuing a post-graduate education. All that changed when she met and married John Tyler to whom she now pays the tribute, that "without-her husband she doesn't know how she would have survived." He enrolled at Chicago Theological Seminary (CTS) and she decided to audit one class, a class on Hope. Their son, Jason, was then one year old.
Jeanne took a year of seminary classes as a time for exploration. She had felt a call to the ministry since her under- graduate days when she had been active in campus ministry. Because of her disabilities, some professors were more supportive and reassuring than others that she could handle the demands of being a CTS student. She made the decision to listen to those who affirmed her call and her abilities and she enrolled as a full-time student.
When Jeanne and John graduated from CTS their family included four-year-old Jason and one-year-old Andrew, who had been born during Jeanne's second year of seminary. They were called to co-pastor a church in La Crosse, WI. There they divided pastoral work as they felt comfortable, since John is more gifted in administration while Jeanne's gifts and interests are in the areas of Christian education and visitation.
They next served a church in northern WI where the rights of the Ojibway Indians to Spearfish, as guaranteed by the treaty signed with the US government, were unilaterally opposed by the congregation, a position with which Jeanne and John disagreed. The atmosphere was divisive and confrontational but the Tylers were able to help allay the potential for and prevent violence.
Since 1991 they have lived in Lincoln, NE where they are now co-pastoring St Paul's UCC 80% of their time and Trinity Chapel UCC for the remaining 20%.
Jeanne knows what it is to experience discrimination but finds it difficult sometimes to
distinguish the motive behind that discrimination.- Is it because she is a woman? Is it because she is a woman clergy person? Is it because she is a person with a disability? She came to the UCC from another mainstream Protestant denomination, a place where she was well treated. She has found acceptance within the UCC which she names as a Biblically-based and justice-oriented denomination and has served on the NCPWD since 1996. She enjoys the NCPWD membership, a place where her gifts are received and even treasured.
The UCC pastor, The Rev. Harold Wilke, known to many persons with disabilities and
UCCers, has been a significant presence in her life for the last 20 years.
There is no doubt that she is a woman with many gifts which she uses in the service of Christ and in tandem with her disabilities. To quote Jeanne, "I believe my gifts are in relationship to my disabilities. They are in part a reaction to my disabilities and in part in service to them. For example, I am curious and have writing skills. These have nothing to do with the disabilities but I use them to listen to the stories of 'the other' and seek to make connections to the community of faithful that gathers around the stories of Jesus. I seek to build bridges of understanding through which people can connect with each other.
"A sense of grace has been given me so I am more accepting and more inclusive and more compassionate in reaction to both being excluded and included. I know how it feels to be excluded but I also know the feelings of acceptance, inclusion, and affirmation. I know what it is to be in the image of God. This nourishes me."
Of interest to those of us who are acquainted with the UCC Ministerial Profile is how Jeanne sees its purpose and usefulness. She utilizes it as a means to obtain interviews. She states on her profile that she has a hearing loss and wears two hearing aids. Then she shares with the readers, to help them possibly gain a new perspective on disability, that her great love is music, and especially opera. Also, during interviews she talks about the connections between disability and vulnerability; and it is a time when she shares that she brings special gifts to ministry, including her gifts of empathy and of her writing skills.
She values the time spent on pastoral visitations and hearing people's stories, and she enjoys preaching. Reading theological writings is another pleasurable activity. Over the years she has found that her theology and how she lives her personal life have become inseparable, one from the other, helping her to be a more holistic person.
C.P. affects her finger reaction time so she sought out and received help from Assistive
Technology Project, a federally funded project in NE. Her computer is a Macintosh which has a "delayed response" automatically built into the system. She benefits from the assistance offered by recent technological advances including a Clarity phone, made by Walker, which has an amplifier built into the phone. Nine years ago Jeanne had jaw surgery for TMJ. The surgery brought about a fracture which has had a long term effect of causing her to become quite fatigued in lengthy conversations.
Jeanne has mild dyslexia and both their sons have learning disabilities. She has first hand and difficult experience with what it means to be the parent of children with disabilities. After reading about her you will not be surprised that one of her parishioners wrote the following about Jeanne: "Jeanne Tyler is a highly compassionate woman and a caring pastor. She understands pain and suffering in the lives of others and reaches out with sensitivity to help them ... is available to those in need and very generous with her time. Jeanne has an intense intellectual curiosity ... continues to sharpen her theological skills . . . brings lively awareness to groups and boards with whom she works, and often offers stimulating insights about areas in which the church needs to minister. Jeanne has a lively spiritual life (and) ... is effective in leading a group in devotion and prayer."
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
Glade UCC is in Frederick County MD.
Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. (Romans 15:7, NRSV)
Recently, after a funeral in a community near Walkersville, NM, the daughter-in-law of the deceased was talking with David Denham. She shared that she grew up in the Glade Reformed Church. He responded by commenting on how wonderful it is that Glade has redesigned its facilities to be accessible, to which this woman responded, "Now my mother, who uses a wheelchair, can go to church again."
This mother was present on March 15, 1998 when Glade UCC rededicated and celebrated its modified church facilities. Glade UCC, founded in 1750, a congregation with deep German Reformed roots, is located in Frederick County, MD. The current facilities were built in 1896, a time when church structures characteristically were multi-level.
In 1995 the Rev. Dr. Gerald Hanberry, the newly called pastor, arrived. He was seeking the leading of the Holy Spirit for a faith-based project, with a message of being open to all, that would guide his congregation into the Twenty-First Century. Gerry found that people wanted to reshape their facility so that all would be welcome regardless of one's physical capacities. This required the redesigning of an older multi-level structure so that the hallways and pathways, bathrooms and meeting rooms, the sanctuary, with the exception of the chancel area, and educational facilities would be accessible.
They did it! Glade found support from the conference and association. The Central Atlantic IDA Task Force (Task Force on Issues of Disability and Accessibility) was a resource for information such as how to engage an architect. The Catoctin Association Church Development Commission provided a $500 start-up grant which was used to hire an architect. The modifications cost $515,000 with the UCC Cornerstone Fund (of the Board for Homeland Ministries, Division of Evangelism and Local Church Development), a resource designed to help local churches proceed with such undertakings, providing a $185,000 loan.
After a church makes its facility accessible, it may not realize that accessibility is more than a physical reality. The atmosphere at the church needs to reflect that accessibility and be a warm and inviting place. The pastor, Gerry Hanberry, talked about what has happened at Glade to make that occur. "We have talked a lot about what it looks like, what it feels like, and what it means to move from a welcoming to an inviting to a sending church. We have placed greeters at the entrance doors of the building not just inside the sanctuary. Greeters and ushers wear name tags. We have added large print bulletins as well as hearing devices. With people in wheelchairs almost all the time now, this has raised peoples' awareness.
"Before we were accessible the perception was that no one needed the accessibility; (that) there were no people with disabilities. Now that we are accessible, and there, in fact, are people with physical disabilities (participating), the attitude has changed.
"Our theme is 'everyone can come in the front door.' We have talked about what that means. We have also had a series of workshops during Lent, 1998 on 'Living Together in Community with our Differences ... in: Age, Race, Sexual Orientation, and Religion.' This was well attended and people were very thoughtful in their responses."
(The editor has had occasion to attend Glade for Sunday worship and can affirm that it is a joy to worship and participate in the life of such a welcoming congregation.)
What are the ingredients of change?
In the case of Glade UCC, we witness from its people an empowering faith vision. Too, we observe a meaningful network of support from the association, conference, and the wider church.
NCPWD is ready to guide your church to needed resources and to lend support. There are written resources to help you get started. There are people resources, persons from other churches who have had experiences with church accessibility issues and with resolving the problems. Within the Division of Evangelism and Local Church Development/United Church Board for Homeland Ministries there are the UCC Fellowship of Architects and financial resources for local churches.
Does your conference have a Task Force or Committee dedicated to accessibility like the IDA TF of the Central Atlantic Conference? Such a group is central to developing conference-wide energy focused on accessibility. NCPWD can assist your Conference with starting a Task Force or Committee with the help of someone with experience.
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
Reassessing Religious Practice edited by Nancy L. Eiesland and Don E. Saliers, Abingdon Press.
During a conference on Disability and Liturgy held at Emory University, 14 noted Christian scholars with and without disabilities responded in essay form to questions:
- How does the full participation of persons with disabilities relate to the interpretation of the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament?
- What implications follow from such a biblically based theology of disability for pastoral training, pastoral care, and the liturgical formation of clergy and congregation?
- What practices, liturgical and devotional, have been generated by the presence of persons with disabilities in worship, and how may we assess such innovations and the programs to promote and nurture liturgical participation?
Now compiled in this book, these essays help church leaders, pastors, and congregations understand the theological issues and biblical interpretations of sin, disability, and
healing; review the appointment of disabled person within their own parish settings; and involve disabled persons in liturgy and other aspects of church life. Readers are challenged by these writers to re-form their faith and worship communities into a more informed, inclusive, and involving atmosphere of people with disabilities.
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive, Book Beat
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