Accessible Faith Communities

By Jennifer Bakody

How do you define spirituality? Deeply personal, intangible, and nebulous, there are no right or wrong ways to conceive of it. In a busy world, many of us wake up each day, shower, eat breakfast, go to work and return home ignoring that aspect of us that doesn’t need our attention right away.

Randy Upper did that for 21 years until the day his motorcycle fell out from under him. In his second year of a psychology degree at Brock University in St. Catharine’s, Ontario, Randy had a spinal cord injury that wasn’t going to heal. In anger, he asked, "Why me?" There was no answer.

"I’m very much a problem-solver," Randy says. "I like to have hard evidence and scientific proof of why things are the way they are -- why things happen."

Randy grieved the loss of his mobility -- a loss he compares to the death of a loved one -- in the way his counsellors said he should. Daily exercise was part of his gruelling regimen of physical rehabilitation; he continued his education, receiving a master’s degree in social work. "On the outside it was good," he says. I had a career, my wife, Lesley, and our beautiful daughter, Mackenzie." But at times, Randy was restless. He knew there was something missing, and that emptiness created a dull ache. He was searching to understand the bigger perspective.

Only once did a so-called expert acknowledge that the accident caused more than trauma to his body. It had left a crack in his sense of identity.

"A chaplain came to see me," Randy recalls. The visit came while he was still in hospital. Holding a Bible, the chaplain began to mumble scripture. When Randy opened his eyes and saw the chaplain he was sure he was dying.

When Randy learned that he and his wife were expecting a child, science failed to make sense of what he calls a "miracle." At that time, nearly two years ago now, the couple met a Lutheran minister and his wife in pre-natal classes. And as Randy socialized with their new friends, ideas came to him.

"I can see it there -- the hypocrisies in religion," he says. "But I’m learning you can’t get away from certain negative aspects, even in something supposedly ’all-good’ -- like religion. It’s part of the human condition."

Randy Upper can’t say with confidence that his disability has anything to do with his ongoing spiritual exploration. "I’m learning I don’t need to explain any of it," Randy says, "My beliefs are just my own. And I’m entitled to them."

Michele Meehan works for the Canadian Paraplegic Association in Toronto. She is heading a team of six volunteers and co-workers,
trying to create the country’s first organized program of spiritual rehabilitation for people with spinal cord injury. Under the program, people would gather each week to use meditation, creative imagery and self-hypnosis in a holistic approach to personal awareness and identity.

In cases of acquired disability, questions can fly in a fury: ’Who am I? What’s my purpose? Why did I survive?’ People address these on different levels, depending on their personality and spiritual background," Michele says. "We (The program) can’t answer these questions, but by letting the mind go quiet, and letting pain happen, we can help with insight and awareness."

Michele believes the psycho-spiritual technique works because it relies on resources we all have. You don’t need expensive equipment to practice, and peer support is free.

For years, mainstream medicine has used spiritual counselling to treat those dealing with such diseases as cancer, heart disease and AIDS. But disability isn’t a sickness, and mainstream society doesn’t dream of its cure. Michele and her team have submitted two proposals for federal funding to support CPA’s planned program. Both have been denied. At the time of our interview they were waiting for a response on a third proposal.

That the Canadian health care system doesn’t provide spiritual rehabilitation for people with disabilities is hardly surprising to Michelle. With so many definitions of spirituality and so many religions in a multi-cultural country like Canada, it is a challenge to unite spirituality and well-being for people with disabilities. Spirituality, like disability, is a significant factor in personal identity and they are therefore deeply intertwined. Health care professionals, counsellors and those people working in the faith communities must have awareness and respect for the unique spiritual and physical needs of people with disabilities. People with disabilities must have access to their spiritual beliefs just as they must have access to education, housing and all services in their communities.

No law -- secular or ecumenical -- requires that religious institutions conform to accommodate persons with disabilities. In 1981, the United Church of Canada passed accessibility guidelines for churches to consider. It is vague, using words such as "should" which lack the authority of "must."

Mitch Gilbert, of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, is very enthusiastic about the new initiatives of the Jewish Community Foundation, which is mandated to provide better services and support to people with disabilities in their synagogues and throughout the Vancouver Jewish community. The relatively smallcommunity in Vancouver and the short history of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver means they do not have extensive programming to support their members with disabilities, but it’s changing. The Jewish Community Foundation is currently drafting a checklist for accessibility at religious and secular events. Mitch believes that "every human being is created in the image of God. That means everyone is deserving of respect and we have a responsibility to address the needs of all members of the community." This means that synagogues are beginning to look at physical accessibility and sign language interpretation for
services and Jewish Community Centres are programming for people with intellectual disabilities.

At St. Matthew’s United Church in Belleville, Ontario, the congregation has been working for the past four years to provide an inclusive atmosphere of worship. It is one of three United churches in Canada -- the others are in Winnipeg and Halifax that translates its Sunday services and sacraments into American Sign Language. Church staff provide printed copies of the sermon, and use an overhead projector to display the words of the hymns. A hearing enhancement system is available upon request. Bathrooms and hallways are wheelchair accessible. People with intellectual disabilities are welcomed at the front door.

Helen Bickle joined St. Matthew’s as a pastor when her deaf ministry amalgamated with the hearing community four years ago. She wasn’t especially religious growing up, although she frequently attended church. As a girl, she sat in the pew quietly, rising for hymns she couldn’t sing.

"And what could I do?" she asks. "Who was there to help? Nobody."

Giving birth to a beautiful, healthy daughter who couldn’t hear gave Helen a reason to commit to learning about God, regardless of the obstacles in her way.

"When people blame God," she says, "they don’t understand. It’s our responsibility to change our institutions. To me, God means ’spirit’ and ’love.’ It is my responsibility -- not His -- to implement societal change. And working to educate feeds my spiritual soul."

As the Canadian Paraplegic Association waits for word on funding, Randy Upper waits with them. He has written a letter of support
for a program he says is long overdue but never too late for a culture of various abilities.

(Jennifer Bakody is a journalist working at CBC Radio in Toronto, ON.)

Publication:
That All May Worship: An Interfaith Welcome To People with Disabilities, published by the National Organization on Disability, provides practical information for congregations, denominational groups and seminaries. Includes information to welcome people with intellectual, physical, mental and sensory disabilities, their caregivers, friends and families. Phone: 1 (800) 248-ABLE (2253) TDD: (202) 293-5968