Religion plays a critical role in determining how disability is understood and how persons with disabilities are treated. Examining the world’s religions through the lens of disability studies not only peers deeply into the character of a particular religion, but also teaches something brand new about what it means to respond to people living with physical and mental differences. Disability and World Religions introduces readers to the rich diversity of the world’s religions―Buddhism, Judaism, Islam, Christianity, Hinduism, Confucianism, Daoism, and Native American traditions. Each chapter introduces a specific religious tradition in a manner that offers innovative approaches to familiar themes in contemporary debates about religion and disability, including personhood, autonomy, community, ability, transcendence, morality, practice, the interpretation of texts, and conditioned claims regarding the normal human body or mind. By portraying varied and complex perspectives on the intersection of religion and disability, this volume demonstrates that religious teachings and practices across the globe help establish cultural constructions of normalcy. The volume also interrogates the constructive role religion plays in determining expectations for human physical and mental behavior and in establishing standards for measuring conventional health and well-being. Disability and World Religions thus offers a respectful exploration of global faith traditions and cultivates creative ways to respond to the fields of both religious and disability studies.
"Religion, as a modern concept, has been shaped by colonialism and socio-historical contexts. However, Disability and World Religions: An Introduction does not generally explore the impact of cultural contexts on religions’ approaches to disability. Nor does it often explore contradictions between the late-modern concept of disability and various ancient ways of thinking about bodies and minds, reflected in sacred texts. While the writers here are often critical of disabled people’s ways of thinking about disability, there is very little self-critique towards religions’ contributions to the social oppression of disabled people. Furthermore, there is a sense that many of the chapters could have said more about the experiences of disabled adherents in each of these religions, rather than considering disability solely from the perspective of non-disabled practitioners."
Rather than studying world religions as a whole and trying to make a comparison with my own Christianity, I have undertaken a study which looks at how religions consider special topics. My first effort has to do with disability and my second will examine violence. The main resource for the first consideration is Disability and World Religions. Edited by Darla Y. Schumm and Michael Stoltzfus under the auspices of the Studies in Religion, Theology, and Disabilities series, this anthology of essays allows experts in the fields of Indian religion and philosophy, Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, Judaism, Islam, and Christianity to consider the attitudes and behavior towards those who face disability or impairment. Prior to this series, almost all of the work in this field was done from a, primarily, Christian perspective. Disability and World Religions allows those positively disposed to faiths, philosophies, and cultures to speak from a more sympathetic perspective.
In touching on issues of disability, the editors are not trying to develop a grand unified theory on approaches to those impaired in some way. Rather, “Pluralism, not homogeneity, is the mark of both religion and disability.” (p. xiii) By offering insights from differing traditions, the book helps those of us from other traditions to become more aware of those who perceive these relationships differently. Disability and World Religions begins with Hinduism. Perhaps, this is because Hinduism has been understood to be indifferent to those who are impaired—especially when any limitations are physically apparent. Underlying this is a sense of karmic appropriateness. So, often when a young woman is disfigured, her parents are urged either to avoid making a marriage for her or to marry her to a young man who is also disabled in some way. This is illustrated by the true story of a woman born with a birthmark which covered a large portion of her face. When she married a normal white-collar worker, many relatives and friends believed that the parents had worked some kind of tantric magic on the husband and they began to ostracize the parents. When the young man died five years after the marriage, most believed that she and her parents had received their just desserts for using the magic to veil her disfigurement. Someone close to her had a better idea, believing the veil had been lifted from the husband’s eyes so that he could see the beauty in her beyond the disfigurement (pp. 21-22). Yet, there is, at least, a sense of dharmic duty to care for the disabled (p. 17), so there is some value in looking at the tradition.
Buddhism also seems problematic because, as with Hinduism, the idea of karma and karmic justice place much of the blame on the sufferer or impaired person (p. 34). Other than that karmic idea, it is hard to pin down Buddhism’s application for the impaired individual because Buddhism has no concept of the enduring self (ātmah) (pp. 26, 30). Rather, the focus is on temporal events which collate the combination of five spheres of existence (skandhas): physical (rūpa), feelings (vedanā), mental concepts (saṁjnā), awareness (vijnāna), and emotional/intentional attitudes (saṁskāra). Notice that these categories are rather fluid between one’s own experience and that of the environment in which one is embedded.
But that wasn’t the application which came to me from this synopsis of Buddhism and disability. I was fascinated by what are called the four great truths. First, suffering (duḥkha) is a universal experience which is caused (samudaya) by craving, desiring, longing (tṛṣṇā). Since the insatiable desires of humanity are caused by ignorance (avidyā, so one must develop follow the path (marga) toward the avoidance of desire (p. 26). Understanding that cycle of life alone helps me understand the longing for nirvana to eliminate the suffering. Of course, eliminating the suffering without eliminating the chance to accomplish “good” would be even better. As an evangelical Christian, I find my hope in that promise that God will wipe every tear from your eye. Still, there is truth as I know it reflected in these four Buddhist truths.
The chapters on Confucianism and Daoism were very interesting because of the interaction the two religions have within their original culture. I generally think of Confucianism as akin to “Wisdom Literature” and Daoism as more mystical. Since the main thrust of this book is about how the world religions deal with the disabled, Daoism uses a different term (shen) for the “cultivated” and “healthy” body compared with (qu) as a vulgar body which has no shame, acts inappropriately, and proves disruptive (p. 81). Daoism has another word for body called ti which recognizes that the body is constantly changing, but notes that it should be advancing in a harmonized, balanced way.
But all is not completely lost concerning the disabled, though it may be hurtful to put this in Daoist language. There is a recurring theme in Daoism called “The Usefulness of the Useless.” Remember, that isn’t my term. Yet, the story goes that the King of Wei gives an individual a gourd seed. It is something like Jack’s magical beans in the western traditions in that the gourd which grows to be over 100 pounds. The individual tries to fill the gourd with liquid, but the outer shell is too flimsy to hold it. Thinking he could turn it into a dipper, he cut it in half and found that it was too big to scoop into anything. In frustration, he smashes the gourd into pieces because it is useless. His master chided him saying that he shouldn’t have destroyed the gourd because it wasn’t a practical scoop. Instead, he should probably have made a boat out of it (p. 84). In spite of the patronizing tone, such traditions as these offer some hope to having Daoists as part of the healing, socializing forces transforming the lives of the disabled.
The chapter on Judaism and Disability didn’t have very many surprises for me. I knew that the disabled were precluded from service in the holy places, but I also knew that King David attempted to care for the late King Saul’s disabled son (until other factions tried to use that son against David). Yet, I was appreciative of the careful delineation of the understanding of b’tzelem Elohim in each strain of Judaism: Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist. This phrase, meaning “in the image of God,” is usually affirming even to those who are disabled. Yes, the authors admit that there are patronizing and even exclusionary interpretations of passages in this tradition, but they build on this concept of the “image of God” to create a more inclusive environment for the disabled.
I was impressed with the Talmudic interpretation of Numbers 12 (Miriam’s rebellion resulted in leprosy until she was cleansed by Moses’ intercession and separated from the camp for seven days.) which emphasized that the entire community couldn’t move on until the disabled (in this case, Miriam) could move with them (pp. 101-2). It was fascinating to see rabbinical workarounds (both medieval and modern) for traditional proscriptions. For example, the blind were previously allowed to “interpret” the Torah reading, but not to perform the Torah reading because it is important within the tradition to read from the scroll itself. Memorization did not work. Now, the blind are permitted to perform the Torah reading as well as interpret—as long as a sighted person reads from the scroll first (p. 106). But it was disconcerting to realize that strict rabbinic interpretation did not allow the blind to serve as witnesses in a trial (p. 106). Even today, many synagogues have access to the place of worship but not to the bemah where the Torah scroll would be placed (p. 108). Most ingenious, though, was the modern deaf accommodation for “hearing” the shofar, the ram’s horn trumpet used on high holy days. Modern interpretation allows for perceiving the “vibrations” of the horn as “hearing.” (p. 111).
Catholic tradition concerning the disabled certainly goes back to the early church, but today’s church has been reticent to institutionalize inclusivity for those who are disabled and gendered away from full service within the church (p. 116) from the monastic period of the Middle Ages to the present. In addition, Canon Law 1029 requires an ordained priest to be both “able-bodied” and “able-minded,” creating what is essentially an “ableist” discrimination (p. 122). Unfortunately, wrong interpretation of such canonical law (particularly that on administering the sacraments) can prevent those with disabilities (mental and/or physical) from receiving the sacraments vital to Catholic community (p. 125).
As with modern Jewish interpretation of the b’tzelem Elohim, Catholic reverence for the imago Dei (yes, “image of God” again) essentially provides the foundational support for CST (Catholic Social Teaching) and its seven principles: 1) life and dignity of the human person, 2) call to family, community, and participation, 3) rights and responsibilities, 4) preferential option for the poor and vulnerable, 5) the dignity of work and the rights of workers, 6) solidarity, and 7) care for creation (pp. 126-7). Both the first and the fourth teaching have significant implications for those with disability. Fortunately, the Catholic Bishops of the United States officially adopted the following stance in 1978: “Catholics with disabilities must be able to participate fully in the celebrations and obligations of their faith, and should be included within the total fabric of society.” (quoted on p. 131) But with all of the positive official statements, the realist knows that there are many local churches which are not synchronized with the overall “Ecclesia” concerning disabilities (p. 133).
The Protestant perspective is also shifting toward the positive, though its historical ambivalence can be demonstrated between the two poles of “curse” and “blessing.” Fortunately, I don’t really know of any Protestants who would take the position of Martin Luther. The so-called “Great Reformer” was confronted with a child who had disabilities and counseled that the child should be suffocated because it was “nothing more than ‘a mass of flesh without a soul,’ an instrument of the devil.” (p. 138) Even as a Protestant minister, I was intrigued at the elegant description of how Calvin’s redefinition of “vocation” as being called of God to glorify God in the many occupations and approaches to life (p. 142) led to the Puritan disposition which, eventually, was named the “Protestant work ethic” by sociologist Max Weber (p. 143).
The problem is that, despite the positive personal dignity and value attached because of the doctrine of “priesthood of the believer” is that, in general, Protestantism sees disability as a problem in need of a solution (p. 144). Unfortunately, from the perspective of disability studies, this puts the onus on the person as opposed to the environment which marginalizes the person (p 145). In short, as the book quotes Lennard J. Davis, disability is a “ social process that intimately involves everyone.” (p. 146)
Yet, by the conclusion of this essay, the author had “redeemed” Protestant Christianity with the extrapolation of the “priesthood of the believers” into the “body of Christ” concept of the Apostle Paul. “…afflictions that facilitated not merely passive reliance upon God, but a deeper understanding of the paradoxical power of God at work in Christ crucified, which challenges assumptions of normalcy that correlate strength and power with abilities and achievements.” (quoting Adela Y. Collins on p. 162) Indeed, “For Paul, church is a body with many parts, none of which can denounce the other as inconsequential (1 Cor 12:21), …” (p. 163). I loved the summary statement suggesting Protestant Christians must be “…wrestling anew with what it means to be together as equals who are loved by God in our differences. Being Christian is not about controlling life by a pretense to mastery, which conquers problems and repairs brokenness, but an invitation into a relational space of love—of God and neighbor—in which creaturely limits and possibilities are accepted and valued for what they are: unconditionally embraced of God.” (pp. 165-6)
The essay on Islam began with the five pillars: 1) shahada (confession of one God and Mohammed as prophet), 2) salat (5x prayers per day), 3) sadaqa (almsgiving), 4) Ramadan, and 5) hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca) and notes that jihad (not necessarily, but often, physical warfare, but in general meaning “struggle”) is used as a “sixth” pillar (pp. 167-9). Also, concerning the Qu’ran, it is clear that Islam is similar to Judaism and Christianity at initially perceiving disease (marad) as a result of disbelief. The scholar was only able to point to one case in the Qu’ran (9:91), however, where the marad sufferer was still allowed to participate in jihad (p. 171). What was most surprising to me about Islam was that the disabled were commanded (Qu’ran 24:61) not to be separated from social interactions in the community (pp. 171, p. 179).
Perhaps, even more positive than the idea of restoring to wholeness in the Jewish and Christian traditions, the Islamic idea that perseverance is highly valued provides a nice model for dealing with the disabled (p. 172) but there is still something of a patronizing idea of entering into Paradise as a result of the struggle that wouldn’t fit modern disability theory. Unfortunately, nothing is as clear-cut as these preliminary observations may seem since Arabic doesn’t contain a word in which all classes which might be considered a general term (p. 176). The closest to a general designation of “disabled” in Islamic thought would be those things which interfere with normal expectations of marital life. For example, mental problems, sexual difficulties (impotence, castration), or dermatological problems (leprosy, elephantiasis—perhaps, even psoriasis) are bundled together in the legal materials (p. 177). An important factor here is that the Islamic faith doesn’t usually perceive disability as something brought on as divine punishment (p. 179).
In spite of the positive citations just mentioned, medieval Arabic historians speak of relocation of the disabled to special locales and residences (pp. 182-3). Further, while the deaf seemed to have a privileged faith (possibly because a major sultan had deafness in the family and allowed signing at court), women with infertility were held at the lowest social standing (p. 184). Of course, males were allowed to marry additional wives to solve their problem. Interestingly enough (and this hadn’t registered with me before reading this volume), it was common to refer to rulers in the Islamic world by their physical defects (p. 185). So, it’s probably safe to “generally” refer to the Islamic position on disability as being the equivalent of the late Chick Hearn’s basketball calls for the Lakers: “no harm, no foul.” (p. 186)
The final religion considered in the volume isn’t “one” religion; it is a discussion of indigenous religions in the United States (i.e. “Native American” and “Alaskan Native” beliefs). After a discussion of terms which may have negative perceptions (“primitive,” “primal,” and “third world”—p. 191) and a warning that even “religion” and “spirituality” can have “negative” or preconceived value judgments (p. 192) since Indigenous tribes don’t usually make a distinction between spiritual and secular (p. 192), there is a brief description of oral tradition being more accurate than written tradition in such cultures (p. 193). Indeed, there is so much nuance to oral presentation of such tradition that they only permit the elderly to present it within many tribes (p. 194).
I suppose I have watched too many wild west movies where the “Indians” talk about the Great Spirit. This volume sees Indigenous Religion as more pantheistic (p. 198). As a result, the emphasis on “spirit” in all things means that those with impaired speech or hearing are not really impaired—rather, they communicate through the “spirit.” (p. 199) This is a novel way of looking at the cosmos and at disability, but it doesn’t seem particularly practical to me. I see where such a concept of interconnectedness levels the playing field (p. 201), but what about when the impaired individual really wants to communicate a message to another individual and can’t get the message to get through by spirit alone?
According to this, then, bites, mental illness, and birth defects are not illness (p. 205). Sickness, then, is separate from these phenomena. It is believed to be temporary and to reflect causation in the universe. The three matters listed above are not necessarily caused by the victim or any human agents. Where western paradigms of health focus on normal versus abnormal (p. 207), Indigenous paradigms focus on wellness vs. unwellness as rooted in balance (p. 208). So, for example, when a child ends up with a chronic illness or disability, the community considers the child to be a warning from the spirit of the universe that said universe is out of balance (pp. 210-11).
All in all, Disability and World Religions is an enlightening volume which demonstrates that all of the major world religions, while different in many ways, have something to teach humanity about respecting, involving, treating, and valuing those to whom we refer as impaired or disabled. I do think the editors should have included some concluding notes to pull these very different articles together.