My red flags as a Deaf church-goer

As a disabled person with a faith, I’m rather picky when it comes to churches. I love Jesus, but I don’t love being ambushed by impromptu healing circles on the way to the bathroom. Having grown up Deaf and disabled in the church, I’ve had a lot of negative experiences. But my faith has also taught me to love myself as I am.

Religion, like most tools wielded by humanity, can be used to harm and to heal. Churches can make you feel like you’ll never be good enough, but they can also give you the strength to accept yourself as you are. Drawing from my vast eighteen years of life experience, I have collated a list of red flags to help fellow disabled readers find a church that’s right for you. If you’re not a church kind of person, that’s okay too. After growing up both queer and disabled in the church, I get it’s not for everyone. Hopefully, you’ll read on and find some amusement in these tales.

Red flag #1: No wheelchair accessibility

This one is pretty basic, especially if you’re a wheelchair user. But, even if you’re not, a lack of wheelchair accessibility sends a message to the whole disabled community. A church's signs might say everyone is welcome. They might preach acceptance from the pulpit. But a lack of ramps and accessible bathrooms say something else. That practically screams: “You aren’t welcome here.” If a church hasn’t gone through the basic steps to physically get disabled people through the door, it’s only going to get worse from there.  

On the other hand, if a church does provide wheelchair accessibility, yay, they did the bare minimum! This might be more of a beige flag than a green one, but it's certainly positive. The church cares enough about disabled people to give them a bathroom and a way inside, so it's a good start.   

Red flag #2: The Deaf will hear and the blind will see 

If you encounter this verse as a song lyric or in a sermon, be wary. It can be meant metaphorically, but something about it makes me feel a little icky. I am Deaf. I like being Deaf. It isn’t always easy, but I’m here, and I like being here. I’m proud of my Deaf culture and Deaf community. Being disabled is something to be proud of too. By proclaiming “the Deaf will hear and the blind will see”, I feel like I’m being ushered out the door. If a church's ideal world is one where my community doesn’t exist, I’m not sure I want it. A church that doesn’t want the Deaf and the blind isn’t a church I want any part of. I think most of us disabled people will feel the same.   

Red flag #3: Impromptu healing circles 

When trying out a new church, nothing sends a gross feeling down my gut quicker than the question: “Can I pray for you?” I quickly becomes we. Suddenly, I’m surrounded by a circle of well-meaning intentions, invasive hands and intrusive questions. I suppose I should be grateful they’re asking at all. Sometimes they get straight to it. If I’m going through something tough or someone I care about is struggling, having prayer is awesome. But I don’t appreciate someone trying to pray away a core part of my identity. I’ve had enough of that being queer. Thanks but no thanks.  

Both of my disabilities, Deafness and dyspraxia, are invisible. Fortunately, this gives me some protection from the healing circles of doom and public embarrassment. I certainly feel for my more obviously disabled friends who get prayed on in supermarkets. However, as soon as I reveal myself, I know what kind of church I’m in. A simple nod of understanding or a few curious questions makes a green flag. This is likely an accepting place. But if a church’s go-to reaction is to get their sweaty hands in your space, and start praying - get out of there as soon as you can, bestie! We are all made in God’s image, not just able-bodied people. Whether or not we want to be healed, praying away disability is harmful. It creates undue harassment, it promotes this idea that disabled people are inherently less worthy of God, and those of us who are looking for healing feel like they’re not good enough Christians or they’re not praying hard enough.  

If your prospective church doesn’t have these three red flags, hallelujah! You’ve likely found an inclusive and accessible church. I wish you the best of times with your new faith community. Whilst sometimes church as a disabled person sucks, being loved by God as I am was a huge factor in my ability to accept my disabled identity. God made me brave, God made me a bookworm, and he made me Deaf. Christianity certainly isn’t perfect, but my faith gives me strength. My church community provides me with a space that feels like home. My church is a space where all my intersecting identities are accepted and celebrated. I wish you all the best of luck with finding a space like that too. 

Lots of love and God bless, 

Hope