"Are You Excited for a Cure?": Complexifying Cure [Part 1]

ARE YOU EXCITED FOR A CURE?

My wife and I were asked to contribute to a panel discussion a few years ago about the sanctity of human life. We were invited not because we possess any particular expertise but rather because we parent a child living with particular disabilities.

At one point near the end of the event, one of the panelists asked us, “Are you hopeful for a cure for your son? Are you excited to meet your son in heaven one day when he is cured of his disabilities?” I don’t remember what my exact answer was, but suffice to say I said something like, “Yes.”

When we were driving home from the event, my wife questioned the panelist’s question. She wondered whether the category of cure was necessary. She had no doubt that she wanted what was best for our child. But what she did have doubts about was the connection between what is best for our child and curing disability.

The question raised by the panelist in front of a few dozen people, and the private conversation with my wife on the way home, placed a pebble in my shoe that has remained ever since. It’s caused me to question my own views of disability and cure. This pebble prompts me to move beyond simplistic presumptions and search for the truth - which may in fact be more complex than simplistic.

I wonder if our son were to tell us directly, what would he say would be best for him? What would he want?

I’m not one to let pebbles persist unaddressed. So my exploration into the conversation on disability and cure has centred on the story of God as described in the Bible, and the stories of persons with disabilities as described either through in-person conversations or through their writing.

CONSIDERING DISABILITY AND CURE THROUGH THE STORY OF GOD

There are a few texts that have provided a sturdy foundation for thinking Christianly regarding the topic of disability and cure.

PASSAGES RELATED TO DISABILITY:

It is my a priori assumption that all people, regardless of limitation, are still human persons. With that stated, the first few passages provide a biblical grounding for one statement that I believe to be true: The experience of particular limitations - which includes many of what we consider to be ‘disabilities’ - are a part of God’s good and intended design.

While this may sound counter-intuitive or controversial, I believe that statement can be reasonably embraced when the following passages are considered together:

Genesis 1:26-27:

26 Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

27 So God created mankind in his own image,

in the image of God he created them;

male and female he created them.

Psalm 139.13-15

13 For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you

when I was made in the secret place,

when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Exodus 4:10-11:

10 Moses said to the LORD, “Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.” 11 The LORD said to him, “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the LORD? 12 Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”

If all human persons are imago dei (Genesis 1:26-27), if each human person is woven together and designed specifically by God (Psalm 139:13-15), and if God takes credit for the lived experiences of muteness, deafness, and blindness (Exodus 4:10-11), then I believe we can say that the experience of particular limitations - which includes many of what we consider to be ‘disabilities’ - are a part of God’s good and intended design.

TWO PASSAGES RELATING TO CURE

There are many passages that could be appealed to when exploring the concept of cure in Scripture. The two that I will choose to engage with both related to a blind man cured of his blindness:

John 9:1-7:

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. 2 His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

3 “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. 4 As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. 5 While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”

6 After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. 7 “Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.

Mark 10:46-52

46 Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” 50 Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus. 51 “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him. The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.” 52 “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

While the details of each of the miraculous healings above have different details (one of which to be considered below), what these scenes have in common is that each man is cured of his blindness. These healing stories by Jesus the Messiah are evidence that he saw his ministry as the fulfillment of Messianic prophecy as found in Isaiah 61:1:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, on account of which he has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the poor, to heal those who are crushed in heart, to announce release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind” (see also Luke 4:18)

CONSIDERING DISABILITY AND CURE THROUGH THE STORIES OF DISABLED PERSONS

Perhaps one of the most famous Christians living with disabilities is Joni Eareckson Tada. Her story is widely known and often appealed to in conversations regarding Christians living with a disability in general, and her hope for a restored body in particular. She gives voice to many persons that desire to have their bodily limitations removed. She has said on different occasions:

“I can’t wait for that day because when I get my glorified body, the first thing I’m going to do with my resurrected legs is to fall down on grateful, glorified knees. I will once again have the chance to say with Psalm 95:6, “Come let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker.”

What has surprised me in recent months though is that not every person who lives with a disability is necessarily desirous of a cure from their disabled body. I have read two books recently in an attempt to listen firsthand to the experiences of persons living with disabilities who. The first book that I read was from a person antagonistic to Christianity, Eli Clare, in his book Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure.

The second book that I read was from a person whose identity is firmly rooted in her Christian faith, Amy Kenny, in her book My Body is not a Prayer Request: Disability Justice in the Church. While both lament the physical, social, and relational pain corresponding with their disabilities, neither necessarily strive to experience a cure from their disabilities per se. Whereas Joni Eareckson Tada clearly states a desire for a the experience of fully functioning legs, Amy Kenny says in her aforementioned book:

“... the assumption that disability needs ‘fixing’ is dehumanizing. Some of the irony is that my life isn’t disastrous or deficient at all. Most days, my disability isn’t the worst part of my day, or even what I need prayer for. To assume that my disability needs to be erased in order for me to live an abundant life is disturbing not only because of what it says about me but also because of what it reveals about people’s notions of God. I bear the image of the Alpha and the Omega. My disabled body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. I have the mind of Christ. There’s no caveat to those promises… Maybe we need to be freed not from disability but from the notion that it limits my ability to showcase God’s radiance to the church. What we need to be freed from is ableism.” (p.4)

In one conversation with a friend over dinner I heard of experiences of frustration and pain of living in a world where his accessibility is limited by insufficient access to public transportation, his many-miled wheelchair breaking down, and physical environments prohibiting his maneuverability in his wheelchair. He also spoke of the emotional and relational pain brought on by the bullying and belittling that he has experienced and continues to experience in his interactions with others. What he has clearly repeated is his desire for these frust

rations and pains to cease, but he has not yet lamented with me his disabilities per se.

In another conversation with a friend over dinner I heard of their deep desire for the restoration of the loss of the use of their hand. The memories of what life was like before their limitation occurred haunts them as they look down regularly and mourn what used to be a once fully functional hand. They tell me that they cannot wait for a day in the new creation where they can effortless use instruments and utensils with two hands.

What both the passages of Scripture and the perspectives of people living with disabilities explored above have taught me is that there is no easy one size fits all hope for people who live with disabilities. If Jesus was to ask two wheelchair bound Christians the question he asked Bartimaeus in Mark 10:51, What do you want me to do for you?, they might say different things. One person with disabilities may yearn for the restoration of their legs to walk again. The other person may yearn for a world where their wheelchair does not break down and they are able to access every space they could ever want. For one the hope is an effortless physical interaction with the world around them, for the other it is for the world around them to cease to be ableist.

TWO BROAD BRUSHSTROKES

When it comes to the topic of disability and cure it is wise to approach each situation one life at a time. And yet, I have noticed two broad brush strokes in responses and perspectives that seem consistent when considering the witness of the Story of God and the witnesses of the stories of persons with disabilities.

FIRST BROAD BRUSHSTROKE: PERSONS WITH ACQUIRED DISABILITIES

Among some persons who experience acquired disabilities there is a strong desire for the restoration of what was lost. This is the case among some I know personally and also among those whom I do not know personally but have heard speak or write on the topic. For some of these people the experience of wholeness will come when what has been lost has been regained.

The scriptural passages can be brought to bear in this conversation. There are three considerations from the interaction with Jesus and Bartimaeus in Mark 10:51 in this regard. The first is that Jesus asks “What do you want me to do for you?” He does not presume to know what Bartimaeus is seeking assistance with, he asks Bartimaeus to explicitly make his request.

The second consideration is that Bartimaeus responds by saying “Rabbi, I want to see.” The NIV uses the English word “see”, but the Greek word is actually ἀναβλέπω (anablepō) which is a compound word which means to see (βλέπω; blepō) again (ἀνα; ana). This is different then the John 9 healing of the man born blind who “came home seeing (βλέπω; blepō). This detail is interesting because it seems as though Bartimaeus once had eyesight but lost it somehow at sometime, whereas the man in John 9 was born blind. The latter is cured by Jesus to see, the other is cured to see once again.

The third consideration is that the Septuagint translation of Isaiah 61:1 quoted above, as well as Luke’s citation of it in Luke 4:18 uses the word ἀναβλέπω (anablepō) in describing the “sight-giving” ministry of Jesus as Messiah. It is not just that Jesus gives sight to those who are blind, but he gives people their sight again.

It seems as though the experience of Bartimaeus, and the promise given in Isaiah 61:1, aligns closely with many whom I have heard with an acquired disability in their desire to regain what was lost.

SECOND BROAD BRUSHSTROKE: PERSONS WITH CONGENITAL DISABILITIES

The second broad observational brushstroke for this conversation is how the explicitly confessed desires of many of those who are born with congenital disabilities describe their experience. If for those with acquired disabilities the experience of disability is external and foreign to their identity person, it seems as though many persons with congenital disabilities experience their disabilities as more internal or inherent to their identity.

Beyond the written examples of Amy Kenny and Eli Clare, two personal examples stand out to me. The first is the situation of an acquaintance who has been blind his whole life. When he attended a chapel service a Christian university that focused on the theme of healing he went forward to be prayed for. To the surprise of those prepared to pray with him, his request for healing was not for him to receive vision but rather for his shoulder muscle pain to be alleviated because it makes it difficult for him to use his assistive cane.

The other example was from a friend who was deeply encouraged by the promise of Jesus in John 9 to work in power through the man born blind. This friend was spending time outside in a moment of vulnerable and prayerful wrestling with God over her own experiences of disability. In the midst of her wrestling with God the wind rushed upon her open bible to John 9 and she was overwhelmed by a sense of purposefulness regarding her disability. She distinctly felt the Spirit encouraging her that the Lord would work through not in spite of her disability.

These broad brush strokes help us see that for many - whether or not their disability is congenital or acquired can have an influential role in their imaginations of the good life, and what they hope for in the future

AND YET, IF YOU’VE MET ONE PERSON, THEN YOU’VE MET…

And yet, we cannot allow the broad brushstrokes to oversimplify the situation. Preston Sprinkle’s book “Embodied: Transgender Identities, the Church, and What the Bible Has to Say” introduced me to the brilliant quote from Mark Yarhouse. The quote articulates the nuance required for complex situations (like the transgender conversation), and it provides a kind warning against coalescing and condensing all of the beliefs, experiences, hopes, and dreams of persons in complex situations on the basis of knowing one person. Yarhouse says:

“If you’ve met one transgender person, then you’ve met…one transgender person”

He is right. Oversimplification and quick answers can dehumanize the persons living in complex situations. We need to engage people one life at a time. Sometimes kindness requires us to complexify a situation so that we do not objectify a person with our simplistic presumptions. I believe Yarhouse’s axiom is not only applicable for the transgender conversation, but also when we consider the experiences of people with disabilities. If you’ve met one disabled person, then you’ve met… one disabled person.

We would be wise to follow the example of Jesus and ask the question “What do you want Jesus to do for you?” instead of presume we know what they would want now or hope for in the future. As we consider how to best engage with the persons around us who live with disabilities, we need to be willing to complexify our view of cure. We need to be willing to allow for the personalized lived experience to lead to a contextualized hope.

SO, AM I EXCITED FOR A CURE?

This is part one of a two part series on complexifying cure. The second part will explore the related yet differentiated concepts of cure and healing. There is more to explore in this conversation to be sure. But for now, if I was asked the question “Are you excited for your son to be cured?” again, either in private or on a panel, I think I would respond with something like this:

I believe that Jesus can heal and bring wholeness. I believe that God made my child the way he is for a reason. I do not know what all those reasons are, nor do I know what his future will hold. However, I do know that a day is coming when there will be no more pain or tears. I don’t know what that will look like exactly, but I know God will not withhold any good thing from those who love Him. And maybe one day, through therapy or technology, on this side of that day my son can answer that question for himself.