Sarah Blake LaRose

I read a post this morning at https://www.churchtimes.co.uk/articles/2019/31-may/comment/opinion/do-i-wish-to-remain-disabled-in-heaven#.XPDrp6yjJE5.twitter that is extremely thought-provoking. The post does an excellent job of summarizing the varied views of people with disabilities regarding the question of whether they want to have a disability in heaven. This is a question that people without disabilities often don’t take time to think about, instead assuming that people with disabilities want to be rid of the disabilities (and instead be like themselves).

There are very few moments in my life when I truly want to see. It would be a drastic change in my life, and I have learned how to live with blindness. I wish that people would take steps to learn how to live better in community with me so that society was more. Accessible and my difference was not considered an inferiority. Then it might be easier for people who are blind to find employment. But that is commentary concerning the here-and-now.

So what about heaven? What follows is not a well-rounded academic discussion. These are my thoughts written while sitting on the sun porch on a nice day. I am writing from my emotional space, influenced by whatever academia has given me over the years. Take what you wish, or leave a comment for further discussion.

When I think about the early Church concept of heaven and afterlife, it is important to me to keep in mind that they lived in an environment influenced by persecution and violence. Abuse and injury were commonplace. Disability and illness were caused not by birth but by human beings’ mistreatment of one another. The redemption of all things meant that God would restore to right what had been corrupted, mistreated, mismanaged, abused, etc. In the apocalyptic vision of heaven, which is a direct response to persecution, John writes that “every tear will be wiped away.”

I am convinced that Jesus’ healings were acts of mercy and compassion, that they were things the people wanted. It is notable that the people whom he healed were likely poor and were isolated from their communities. In the instances when he healed, he also addressed community-related issues. Somehow this gets lost in translation with the Church at large today. People want to see great healing wonders but not to learn the lessons of community. Why do you suppose we are not seeing healings? If we are not ready to be the body of Christ, is God going to give us what we selfishly ask, especially when we often try to force it on people who have not requested it?

I think, regarding heaven, that God is big enough to know what people need to have their tears wiped away. God knows what needs to be redeemed and restored in a person’s life. For some people, it may in fact be that their disability is a cause of great emotional pain and suffering and tears they cannot cry; and for those people God will give them wholeness beyond what they can imagine. For some people, what gives them great anguish is isolation; and God will give them a place of honor at the great banquet table just as they are, and no one will observe their disability and ask whether they were born that way or stare at them while they eat their food.

I am content to trust God.