Monday, April 12, 1998
Communal worship excludes some
BY DEBORAH KENDRICK
The Cincinnati Enquirer
No one who believes in him shall be put to shame. - Romans 10:11
Imagine yourself in the midst of a crowd of people who are intently focused on one speaker.
All you hear is the murmur of words, then a sudden burst of laughter. More murmuring, rapt attention all around you, more laughter - or soft expressions of enlightenment.
You lean forward, you strain your ears, but your limited hearing cannot catch the words.
Or imagine yourself hearing everything just fine, but in the same crowd of people, who have now all opened books to sing a song together. You long to sing, too, but there is no book for you.
You strain your ears. You try to imagine what the page might reveal. But there's no way your limited vision can process the printed page.
Now imagine that you can hear the joke and sing the song, but everyone in the group is suddenly invited to come forward. You look at the steps between you and the designated gathering spot. You want to go, too, but no matter how much you concentrate, your legs are not the kind that can carry you down those steps.
Spring brings holy occasions focused on truth and new beginnings. Yet the more earthbound component of our communal places of worship can be the very places where a person with a disability can be closely surrounded by many and completely left out.
We go to church or temple to rejoice in the company of others who share our faith. Yet for people with disabilities, acceptance may not be at its finest in those sacred buildings.
Simply believing is not enough, however, for the inclusion that eliminates humiliation.
As with the secular world, the visible elements of accessibility are often the most likely to be found at churches. But ramps and elevators alone do not make an inclusive environment.
Think about what goes on when people come together for worship. Then think about the scenarios above.
We listen to the word of God and sermons from our spiritual leaders. Yet, how many churches offer a sign-language interpreter or assistive listening devices in the pews to boost the sound for parishioners with hearing disabilities?
We sing from hymnals and pray aloud from written texts, but how many places of worship provide such materials in large print or Braille?
When children and adults meet for Bible study or discussion, do we look for ways to include people with developmental disabilities?
Is there a group or committee responsible for getting the words out to potential parishioners who aren't able, because of physical, sensory, or cognitive disabilities, to come to church and - or read all posted announcements?
And what about getting there? Don't we shame those unable to drive by forgetting about them when it's time to come together and celebrate?
And back to those ramps and elevators. All too often they are constructed to bring people into the worship aspects of a church community, while the social gathering places remain inaccessible.
As a child, we all knew it was not fun to be only an onlooker at the playground. Thus, we shame those among us with disabilities by excluding them from the basic elements of rejoicing that bring everyone to a celebration of Easter or Passover.
Churches, among all institutions, should be our models for acceptance and inclusion. Many have fallen far short of the mark, but spring is the time for new beginnings.
Deborah Kendrick, a Cincinnati free-lance writer, is a nationally recognized advocate for people with disabilities. Write: Deborah Kendrick, Cincinnati Enquirer, 312 Elm St., Cincinnati 45202; e-mail: 71340.473@compuserve.com.
KENDRICK ARCHIVE
