The Works of God

Abortion and disability just seem to go together.  Too many people assume that when disability is identified in the womb, the answer is abortion.

Disability-rights advocates find that argument abhorrent.  So do I.  But maybe for different reasons.

Disability studies as an academic pursuit is experiencing a huge expansion on colleges and universities across the United States.  Some of that expansion is being fueled by the idea that disability should not be confined within a medical model, but should more accurately be described as socially constructed.

For example, under this social theory, a person who is blind cannot see; the severity of the condition can be described in medical terms.  The problem comes from how other people behave towards that blind person, limiting his or her ability for educational development, employment and the like.  Blindness simply exists; discrimination based on the blindness is socially created.  Thus, the disability is not the blindness, but the response of the community to the person who is blind.

Thus, for disability advocates under this theory, if an unborn baby is discovered to have a disability that would lead to blindness, the automatic response should NOT be to abort.  Killing a child based solely on the physical characteristic of a disabling condition is inherently a sign of discriminatory attitudes against all people with disabilities.

I find that argument interesting and worth considering.

Not so fast, argues Becky Cox-White, Ph.D., RN and Susanna Flavia Boxall, in their peer-reviewed article, Redefining Disability: Maleficent, Unjust and Inconsistent, in the Journal of Medicine and Philosophy (only the abstract is available online).  They argue that it is actually ill-advised to consider disability as a socially-caused phenomena.  And then they construct an argument for easy access to abortion.

It was entirely utilitarian in its approach, which I find troubling because it always ends up allowing the strong to dominate the weak.

But it was well presented.  In fact, for most of their paper, I found myself needing to think carefully.  They were maintaining a level of seriousness and academic integrity that required thoughtfulness if I was to address their central argument directly.

Then they got silly.  Not intentionally so, which made it worse.  But silly nonetheless.

For example:

If any act that devalues impairments must be forbidden, consistency generates implications far beyond the reproductive arena. Good reasons exist for believing that harms would be multiplied rather than diminished, particularly if one considers the implications for preventive care.

And what are these ‘harms would be multiplied’ if one were consistent about not wanting to kill babies with disabilities through abortion?

• “Insofar as prenatal care is encouraged for the purpose of preventing children being born with impairments, logical consistency requires activists to denounce prenatal care as disabling (under the social construct theory of disability).” (Cox-White, p. 569)
• “The disability activist’s argument, taken to its logically consistent conclusion, would preclude vaccines. For vaccines, just as surely as pregnancy terminations, prevent impairments.” (Cox-White, p. 570)
• “Examples could be multiplied: Treat glaucoma to avoid blindness. Treat otitis media to avoid hearing loss. Treat arthritis to avoid immobilization. Treat hypertension to avoid paralyzing strokes. Activists must denounce all these efforts — indeed, much, if not all, preventive health care — as disrespecting persons with impairments and contributing to disability.” (Cox-White, p. 570)

It is really hard not to respond sarcastically here.  Pregnancy terminations have not prevented impairments – they have prevented a living human being from being born.

The disability activists’ argument is about NOT KILLING A PERSON because that person has a disability.  It does NOT logically follow that one would then also argue against vaccinations which prevent disability.  The opposite is true – vaccinations allow more children to live.  The additional benefit of not having to live with a disability, which even Cox-White and Boxall freely allow is difficult in this culture, is only available if one is allowed to live.

At least they didn’t try to sugar-coat it as they concluded:

Society’s causal responsibility can be challenged. But even if this responsibility were granted, continuing disability of persons with impairments seems likely: Ensuring less disabling circumstances for those with impairments is likely to cause harm to many others. Because justice requires — absent compelling arguments to the contrary — society to avoid harming all citizens, a society has no in-principle reason to preferentially avoid harming persons with impairments. (Cox-White, p. 571)

They spent 13 pages in a peer-reviewed journal making the case for destroying unborn children with disabilities from a philosophical and practical viewpoint.  They dismissed the role of God, the experiences of parents of children with disabilities, and the experiences of people with disabilities as having any value toward dissuading others from aborting their children with disabilities.  They placed a high value on people’s ability to predict what kind of life they will have, their children will have, and society will have.  Based on no evidence, of course, because none of us can accurately predict our future.

The result from this type of thought: even more children will be aborted simply because they have a disability.  And that’s more than just discriminatory against people with disabilities.

Lord willing, as I write this Dianne is about to go to a committee meeting at my dad’s church on their disability ministry.  She and our children are visiting my parents the next couple of days.

Dad’s church is in that awful early place of most discussions like this: where do we start?  There is need, there is desire, and there is so much that could be done. There are more ideas than resources. The desire to do it ‘right’ from the beginning is very strong, and can actually slow things down or derail an effort entirely.

As Dianne and I talked about it this morning, we both landed on how important it is to look at who is right in front of you, then pick one and do something.  Doing something for one family starts a church down the road of serving the next family.  Pretty soon, the church is serving several families.

And that isn’t easy.  In fact, I made the comment this morning, “we try things, and we frequently do it badly!”  Children don’t have good experiences.  Parents become discouraged.  Volunteers are disappointed.  Brenda, our disability ministry coordinator, is overwhelmed by the complexity of requests and the depth of the pain in families.

It often feels like a mess.

Yet – praise be to God! – we learn things and God helps us.  Over time, volunteers understand how to serve in ways that make sense.  Bonds frequently develop between a volunteer and a child.  Parents gain confidence that their child with disabilities is not just being served, but is loved and respected as the unique individual God made him or her.

That’s pretty sweet!

And then another family comes, or a volunteer needs to step down, or a new situation shows up in a family, and the process of praying, learning, failing, and, Lord willing, finding that sweet engagement starts all over again.

We constantly need God’s help!  I am grateful he is a big God who loves to be needed and leaned on as the sovereign, omnipotent, omnipresent, loving, good provider he is.

I didn’t always understand that.  There are some old emails I sent to Pastor David Michael that make me cringe inside over the slights I felt we were experiencing at church.  I am very grateful he, and others, looked to Jesus rather than in my negative responses as they sought to serve the Knight family.  There really wasn’t much positive relational payoff in serving us those early days!  Over the years God has frequently used Bethlehem to change my heart, encourage me in dark days, and help me to see the preciousness of his word.

It wasn’t a perfect disability ministry program that drew us and kept us at Bethlehem.  It was the people, always the people.  People who trusted Jesus above everything.  People who knew that Jesus would supply every need of theirs and of ours.  People who were quick to forgive.

And that’s why I have hope that a church in Winona, Minnesota will get started in serving some of their own families experiencing disability.  Because my dad loves Jesus, he wants others to love Jesus, too, and he particularly has a heart for other moms and dads and grandparents with children with disabilities.

And that’s better than the perfectly designed program any day.

Saturday evening reminded me that I have something very precious at Bethlehem, and I want more people to have it as well.  One of the many blessings is that I am not remotely tempted to stay away from church when things don’t go well because of Paul’s disabilities.

I decided our family should attend the North Campus on Saturday evening as Dianne was out of town for a wedding.  The North Campus is accessible, parking is easier, we know lots of people, and Paul has even been known to make it through an entire service there.  I like it when Paul can be with the family during the regular worship service, and summer is a good time to see how things go.

Such was not the case on Saturday.  Paul was in full voice early.  I think we made it through three minutes in the sanctuary before I knew he would be vocalizing happily and loudly through the whole service.  I could see the body language of people around us as he talked.

So we shifted to the restless child room. Let me be clear, nobody was unkind, nobody shot a look my way.  I was the one who was uncomfortable staying.

Paul continued his happy noises in the restless child room.  At one point we even got a version of ‘let is snow.’  I don’t know if that was Paul editorializing about the air conditioning.

Since this is our life, I tuned Paul’s noises out (for the most part) and tuned in to Pastor Kenny.  After almost 15 years, sometimes we just have to tune out the vocalizing to get anything done.

I loved Pastor Kenny’s sermon on prayer – it was very helpful!

But when he started wrapping up, I looked down and saw a very little girl staring at Paul because of his noises and realized her mom had been distracted the whole service.  This little one was quite interested in Paul, so was no longer restless.  Well, I thought, embarrassed at my lack of attention to this young mom’s inability to enjoy worship, its time to go and hauled my crew out.

So, I felt embarrassed a couple of times.  But I love my church and know I’m welcome with my family.  I like the fact that Paul is known by many, and loved by lots of those who know him.  I’m glad to know the North Campus has a restless child room, and nobody thinks twice about my using it with my kids.  Time with this people of God has resulted in many benefits, including chalking up another interrupted service with Paul as just that – just one service of many more I hope the Lord grants to me and my family.

But such is not the case for every family with a child like mine.  Some churches are not as welcoming or persevering.  Families get trained that if their child cannot fit a particular mold, that child isn’t welcome.  One bad experience at a church, and they are gone, long before all the benefits of long-term attendance begin to accrue.

So how do we do two things:  1) let families know that there are biblical churches like Bethlehem that are imperfect, make huge mistakes, and deeply want to love and welcome that child just as Christ loves the church; and 2) encourage those families to hang in there with those same churches through all the ups and downs of disability, until the benefits and blessings start to become more apparent?