Wondrously Wounded: Theology, Disability, and the Body of Christ. By Brian Brock (original) (raw)
Related papers
-- Disability and Christian Theology [CHAPTER THREE, UNCORRECTED PROOF]
Perhaps the most fundamental insight of the medical model is the simple observation that bodies are different from each other. Within the framework of this model, such an observation typically is combined with a value judgment: some bodies do not function as well as other bodies, and it is best to be as close as possible to an ideal body (beautiful, fi t, thin, able). Embodied difference is an unsurprising observation-by looking around our world, we can see differences between bodies and can consider how our own bodies have changed over time. Any particular Olympic athlete can do things that I cannot do, I can do things that my grandmother cannot do, and, as a contemporary country song expresses, "I ain't as good as I once was." What is surprising is that theology has not attended to these differences. Of course, it has at times remarked on or reinforced categorized differences between men and women, various ethnic groups, parents and nonparents, and so on, but scarce attention has been paid to the fl uidity within and between individual bodies.
-- Disability and Christian Theology [CHAPTER FIVE, UNCORRECTED PROOF]
Both the medical model and the minority model highlight aspects of disability that are relevant for theological refl ection: attention to the diversity of human embodiment (i.e., there are disabled bodies) and attention to justice concerns arising from observations of exclusion and oppression (i.e., the lens of disability offers a unique and valuable perspective). This calls us to attend to embodiment and liberation theologies. Yet as was described in the fi rst chapter, these two perspectives are not our only alternatives as we refl ect theologically on experiences of disability. I have proposed that we also consider a limits model, attending to the fl uidity of human embodiment and most particularly the claim that limits are an unsurprising aspect of being human. Limits are normal. Rather than acting as a defi cit, they lead us toward creativity, and even toward God. In this chapter, we will explore the possibilities of and implications for such a model in constructive theology.
-- Disability and Christian Theology [CHAPTER FOUR, UNCORRECTED PROOF]
Even as attention to disability highlights fundamental issues about the diversity of human embodiment, it simultaneously raises signifi cant justice concerns. From a theological perspective, we can see parallels between this lens and the commitments of various liberation theologies. According to James Cone, a liberation perspective means seeing Christian theology as "a rational study of the being of God in the world in light of the existential situation of an oppressed community, relating the forces of liberation to the essence of the gospel, which is Jesus Christ." 1 Or, in the words of Gustavo Gutiérrez, liberation theology "is a theological refl ection born of the experience of shared efforts to abolish the current unjust situation and to build a different society, freer and more human." 2 Thus, if we begin with the minority model's observation that people with disabilities experience exclusion and injustice, it seems fi tting to study God and church in relation to the situation of this oppressed community and to refl ect theologically out of this struggle for liberation. Following Cone and Gutiérrez, we are invited to participate in a disability theology of liberation.
Disability and Christian Theology: Embodied Limits and Constructive Possibilities
2009
Attention to embodiment and the religious significance of bodies is one of the most significant shifts in contemporary theology. In the midst of this, however, experiences of disability have received little attention. This book explores possibilities for theological engagement with disability, focusing on three primary alternatives: challenging existing theological models to engage with the disabled body, considering possibilities for a disability liberation theology, and exploring new theological options based on an understanding of the unsurprisingness of human limits. The overarching perspective of this book is that limits are an unavoidable aspect of being human, a fact we often seem to forget or deny. Yet not only do all humans experience limits, most of us also experience limits that take the form of disability at some point in our lives; in this way, disability is more "normal" than non-disability. If we take such experiences seriously and refuse to reduce them to mere instances of suffering, we discover insights that are lost when we take a perfect or generic body as our starting point for theological reflections. While possible applications of this insight are vast, this work focuses on two areas of particular interest: theological anthropology and metaphors for God. This project challenges theology to consider the undeniable diversity of human embodiment. It also enriches previous disability work by providing an alternative to the dominant medical and minority models, both of which fail to acknowledge the full diversity of disability experiences. Most notably, this project offers new images and possibilities for theological construction that attend appropriately and creatively to diversity in human embodiment.
The Heythrop Journal, 2019
Reconsidering Intellectual Disability opens with the story of Ashley, a young girl who in 2004 underwent a combination of estrogen therapy to restrict her growth, and surgery to remove her breast buds and uterus. This experimental combination, later known as the Ashley Treatment, were deemed necessary by Ashley's parents and doctors because of her profound disability, and because they feared her growth and development would otherwise make it difficult for them to care for her at home. The hospital's ethics committee approved the procedures, but after the parents took Ashley's case public, significant controversy ensued. Particular criticism came from disability groups, who voiced concerns about Ashley's dignity and physical autonomy, the objectification of her life and body, her parents' unacknowledged conflict of interest, and the use of medicine to address a social problem. Jason Reimer Greig begins with an account of Ashley, her treatment, and the debate surrounding it both to illustrate the relevance of the topics he will address, and to provide a practical and personal impetus for his work. Greig recalls that he first learned about the Ashley Treatment at a meeting of the L'Arche Cape Breton community, who found Ashley's treatment incomprehensible, even horrifying. Since then Greig has continued to be disturbed and curious about the dissonance between the perspective of Ashley's parents, doctors, and ethicists towards the Ashley Treatment, and that of his L'Arche community, to which he dedicates the book. I dwell on how Greig introduces Ashley's story-and his own-because it demonstrates his choice to use a case method for the book. According to Greig, his goal is not to "solve the 'problem' of Ashley" but rather to bring "a particular person into Christian moral thinking about bioethics" (9). As he recognizes, the use of cases carries risks: individual narratives can be exploited to make dry academic prose more exciting, or to attempt to manipulate readers into premature agreement. However, he also contends that careful attention to particular stories-and particular people-can highlight questions about human flourishing, practices, and narratives that are otherwise obscured by the supposedly universal discourses of medicine and bioethics. Considering these neglected questions is the task of Greig's remaining chapters. After reviewing the debate around the Ashley Treatment in the first chapter, chapter 2 connects the medical model of disability assumed by advocates of the treatment to the "Baconian Project" of eliminating suffering described by Gerald McKenny. Here Greig also sketches a brief summary of how Christian narratives and theology can provide an alternative view of medicine and suffering to that of Ashley's parents, who assert that "knowingly allowing avoidable suffering for a helpless and disabled child can't be a good thing in the eyes of God" (70). Here Greig's initial response is clumsy, in that he segues too quickly from the parents' words to the claim that the Baconian project must end up seeking the elimination of those whose suffering cannot be relieved. Even if there may be a wider trend towards euthanasia of people with disabilities, Greig has not presented any evidence of it being discussed in Ashley's case. He is on firmer ground when he questions the conflation of disability and suffering by the non-disabled, including Ashley's parents. As Greig puts it: "the great Other of disabled embodiment can only look pathological when independence and agency characterize authentic human being" (73). This chapter also sees the introduction of a variety of theological voices that will influence Greig's work, including those of Stanley Hauerwas, Therese Lysaught, and Hans Reinders.
Modern Theology, 2016
Reconsidering Intellectual Disability opens with the story of Ashley, a young girl who in 2004 underwent a combination of estrogen therapy to restrict her growth, and surgery to remove her breast buds and uterus. This experimental combination, later known as the Ashley Treatment, were deemed necessary by Ashley's parents and doctors because of her profound disability, and because they feared her growth and development would otherwise make it difficult for them to care for her at home. The hospital's ethics committee approved the procedures, but after the parents took Ashley's case public, significant controversy ensued. Particular criticism came from disability groups, who voiced concerns about Ashley's dignity and physical autonomy, the objectification of her life and body, her parents' unacknowledged conflict of interest, and the use of medicine to address a social problem. Jason Reimer Greig begins with an account of Ashley, her treatment, and the debate surrounding it both to illustrate the relevance of the topics he will address, and to provide a practical and personal impetus for his work. Greig recalls that he first learned about the Ashley Treatment at a meeting of the L'Arche Cape Breton community, who found Ashley's treatment incomprehensible, even horrifying. Since then Greig has continued to be disturbed and curious about the dissonance between the perspective of Ashley's parents, doctors, and ethicists towards the Ashley Treatment, and that of his L'Arche community, to which he dedicates the book. I dwell on how Greig introduces Ashley's story-and his own-because it demonstrates his choice to use a case method for the book. According to Greig, his goal is not to "solve the 'problem' of Ashley" but rather to bring "a particular person into Christian moral thinking about bioethics" (9). As he recognizes, the use of cases carries risks: individual narratives can be exploited to make dry academic prose more exciting, or to attempt to manipulate readers into premature agreement. However, he also contends that careful attention to particular stories-and particular people-can highlight questions about human flourishing, practices, and narratives that are otherwise obscured by the supposedly universal discourses of medicine and bioethics. Considering these neglected questions is the task of Greig's remaining chapters. After reviewing the debate around the Ashley Treatment in the first chapter, chapter 2 connects the medical model of disability assumed by advocates of the treatment to the "Baconian Project" of eliminating suffering described by Gerald McKenny. Here Greig also sketches a brief summary of how Christian narratives and theology can provide an alternative view of medicine and suffering to that of Ashley's parents, who assert that "knowingly allowing avoidable suffering for a helpless and disabled child can't be a good thing in the eyes of God" (70). Here Greig's initial response is clumsy, in that he segues too quickly from the parents' words to the claim that the Baconian project must end up seeking the elimination of those whose suffering cannot be relieved. Even if there may be a wider trend towards euthanasia of people with disabilities, Greig has not presented any evidence of it being discussed in Ashley's case. He is on firmer ground when he questions the conflation of disability and suffering by the non-disabled, including Ashley's parents. As Greig puts it: "the great Other of disabled embodiment can only look pathological when independence and agency characterize authentic human being" (73). This chapter also sees the introduction of a variety of theological voices that will influence Greig's work, including those of Stanley Hauerwas, Therese Lysaught, and Hans Reinders.