Lost and Found: An Integration Story

He was lost. Or so his parents believed. Searching anxiously, they ultimately found him exchanging spiritual truths. No. I’m not recounting the story about Mary and Joseph’s search in Jerusalem for 12-year-old Jesus. You’ll recall how Jesus was discovered missing from the group during their return to Nazareth following the family’s annual Jerusalem pilgrimage for the Feast of the Passover. “After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers.” (Luke 2:46-47)

Mine is a different story. You can decide if or how they’re related. This story is much more recent. The missing one is older. And, thankfully, the duration of his absence shorter. This time, the one believed to be lost was a young man with Down syndrome. It just so happened that he’d been one of the ushers assigned to the morning worship service. Additionally, it just so happened that two people who had not been to church in a while had come to worship that day with recent news that their newly born grandchild had Down syndrome. Questions cluttered their minds: Why? What does this mean? Will our grandchild be able to learn and go to school? Might he be “a vegetable”? (They'd heard this possibility but had no idea what it meant!) Will he be dependent on his parents forever? Will he have friends? When he grows up, will he be able to have a job? What kind of life will he have?

And then, they saw Bryan — distributing bulletins just like the other ushers, collecting the offering just like the other ushers, being a congregational member — just like the others. Bryan’s presence was reassuring. His words were comforting. They'd raced to him following the service and asked one question after another about his life. And so he was late meeting his parents in the parking lot. You see; Bryan was not lost, either. On that day, everyone found what was needed.

Now if Bryan was the right person in the right place at the right time for this couple, then how might things have been different if he’d been absent from the sanctuary? What if expectations surrounding Bryan had been low? What if he’d not been included as an active congregational member? Or, what if he’d been at church that day, but instead of having involvement in the regular worship service, he’d attended special worship for people with disabilities?

Social integration is an interesting concept. It’s something that people living with a socially valued status take for granted. We get so accustomed to being invited to life’s parties that we don’t even notice the invitations. Not true for people who are socially devalued — that is, those who have some negatively perceived characteristic that causes them to be known as fundamentally different. For Bryan it’s Down syndrome. The huge risk for him is that this one characteristic will consume his entire identity. In the eyes of others, he becomes “the Downs guy.” Then all sorts of decisions about what he does, where he goes and the people he knows are based on having Down syndrome without regard for the many other dimensions of Bryan. Fortunately for Bryan and others, he and his fellow congregational members have avoided this trap.

So what are some things that might be learned from this one Sunday morning snapshot of Bryan’s congregational membership?

• Role exchange and unpredicted teachers: Mutuality, give and take, reciprocity: such is the stuff of balanced relationships. Bryan had something very ordinary, yet something very important to offer the visiting couple. What a relief for the one who’s taking, not to always be the taker! What a blessing for the giver, to experience the dignity of giving! God isn’t keeping score, as long as everyone gets to play.
  
  Do you know people in your congregation who always find themselves on the receiving end of relationships? What are their gifts and talents? How can these be shared for the benefit of others? How can they contribute to their church’s ministries?

• Exponential hospitality: When Bryan is welcomed and included in the full life of the church, his family is welcomed and included. The opposite is also true. Parents of children with disabilities are excluded when their children are not welcomed. Their lives frequently become consumed with care and advocacy for their children. They encounter the parental brand of isolation and segregation. Time and again they’re invisible. Quietly rejected. It doesn’t have to be this way.
  
  The whole family hungers for a place to belong. Could there be a better, more natural entity than the church to offer hospitality, to welcome the stranger, to accept the rejected, to invite the outsider, to promote authentic, heartfelt involvement?

• Modeling with and for the larger community: One of the primary ways that people learn is through modeling others. Placed in a new situation, we strive to surround ourselves with others who know what to do. All of us want to fit in! So it makes sense for Bryan to learn the role of congregational member, as well as the many sub-roles (confirmation class member, Presbyterian Youth Connection participant, usher, corporate worshiper, etc.), from others who are already established and competent in these roles.
  
  The same applies to the church serving as a model of integration for the community. How often do we hear, “the church has lost its relevance?” Do we have a relevance issue for you! More and more churches are seeing a generation of people with disabilities and their parents who’ve grown up having or seeking social integration with non-disabled people in school, work, neighborhoods and communities of faith.
  
  Why not share what we know and learn from others? Good intentions are not enough. We need to know what we’re doing! A significant body of knowledge has been developed, especially over the last 30 years, about ways to support social integration of people with disabilities in everyday aspects of life. While we don’t want to define people by their disabilities, it’s just as wounding to ignore people’s disabilities. Our congregations have the fabulous opportunity to model social integration for others, and learn from and with community schools, employers, YMCAs and other churches.
  
  How can your church mentor individuals with disabilities if they need support to learn the ways of your congregation? How can you partner with others in the community to model and support genuine involvement of people with disabilities in schools, jobs, swim teams and civic organizations, as well as other communities of faith?

• The power of the preposition: The quality of the invitation has much to do with the shape of Bryan’s participation in church life. Not to, or for, but with. Integration respects the needs of those integrated and the integrators. Bryan has likely grown up with many opportunities to be involved in typical aspects of church life. For someone without these experiences, integration may require additional consideration. On the one hand, we don’t want to impose integration. But on the other hand, we don’t want to deny its benefits to one who may have been socialized into ways of separateness.
  
  Where is your congregation now when it comes to knowing and involving people with disabilities in the everyday life of the church? Who can devote the time to know these people, or perhaps know them in new ways? How can you encourage people with disabilities to discover new possibilities for themselves? Darcy Elks developed this things-to-know list to get the ball rolling: a) Person's age? b) History? c) Functional impact of disability? d) Societal barriers including negative stereotypes? e) Interests? f) Abilities/skills/gifts? g) Who are the people in this person’s life? h) How are the people involved? i) Who else would you like to see involved? j) What would they do? k) What does this person or others want for the future?

• Awakening a vision for justice: Bryan can stir our broader social justice sensibilities, opening our eyes to things that become so much a part of our social landscape that they dodge our scrutiny. For example, on the last day of  2006, a Louisville Courier Journal headline on page three reads: “Down Syndrome Testing to Change.” The three paragraph article matter-of-factly informs, “Tests far less invasive than the long-used amniocentesis are now widely available, some that can tell in the first trimester the risk of a fetus having Down syndrome …” The upshot of this story is a recommendation for an increase in prenatal testing for “every pregnant woman, regardless of age.”
  
  This article caused me to think about Bryan in his Sunday morning usher role. How would fellow congregational members respond to this sterile story and its alarming insinuation about people “like Bryan?” There’s no mention in the Courier about the gravity of this issue, nor is there a reference to a recent medical study estimating pregnancy termination rates of 80% to 90% when prenatal screening reveals the possibility of Down syndrome. Good people of faith may disagree on theological, spiritual and social implications of abortion. But what about the escalating targeting of people who just happen to have an extra 21st chromosome? Given this intensification, what is the connotation for others in our world who are thought to be less? A good social outrage equity test might be this: Try filling in the blank with another socially devalued group. “The ACOG (American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists) is heightening its prenatal testing recommendations for the risk of a fetus having/being/becoming _______.”
  
  How can Bryan help us see oft-unrecognized dynamics of social devaluation?

So this thing of inviting, including and integrating people with disabilities transcends “being nice.” It can impact the very integrity of our church, of our lives. Families and communities are affected by the church’s response to children, youth and adults with disabilities. How can Bryan help us open our hearts and minds to unsuspected teachers? How can he help us strengthen ties within our community? How can he help us move from worldly valuation of people to heavenly valuation? What’s the cost of welcoming and including people like Bryan? What’s the cost of not?

The lost usher is based on a true story that happened at a Catholic parish in New Jersey. Bryan is a pseudonym.

-By Milton Tyree, PC(USA) Consultant for Developmental Disabilities.