Dave Chappelle is (rightly) getting grief again about his most recent special and the way he tends to “punch down” in his comedy. This time he decided he was going to make jokes about handicapped people, because it seems no one will speak up for the handicapped community the way people speak up for other marginalized groups.

And what is one of the worst spaces to be in with any kind of disability? Christian spaces. Especially churches.

Amy Kenny knows all about that, as she makes known in My Body Is Not a Prayer Request: Disability Justice in the Church. She has experienced disability for most of her life; she is careful not to explain her particular condition, for reasons which the book makes apparent.

Cue the eye rolling. “Disability justice?” Is this more “wokeness” or something? Another group and all of its grievances? When will it ever be enough?

If you feel that way, you need to repent, because it must be nice being able to just enjoy existing without being challenged or questioned about your existence so as to find such concerns exasperating. Disability justice is looking for much the same thing as other social justice concerns: not supremacy. Simply the ability to belong and jointly participate. To be accepted and welcomed.

But definitely read this book, especially if you do not look at yourself as disabled.

Imagine yourself in the author’s situation, and then think again about the way you have spoken to and/or treated people who manifest disabilities around you.

This book is not enjoyable or comfortable. It’s angry and embittered. But the author has every right to be angry and embittered regarding all she has endured.

The physical disability stuff would be difficult enough on its own. Christians and churches tend to make it all the worse.

Because Christians and churches, as the book well exposes, do not know, and sadly rarely seem to want to know, how they can welcome people with disabilities as full participants in the life of God in Christ and His people.

The author well identifies the “prosperity gospel” tendency in most Christians. Sure, most Christians would say they deny the “prosperity gospel,” but when it comes to health, especially when others experience anything less than what is deemed ideal health, out come the remedies and the insistence on healing.

It’s as if the very existence and persistence of people with disabilities is problematic and awkward for a lot of Christians. Such a person needs to be healed (the author makes a good contrast between “curing,” in which a condition is remedied, and “healing,” in which there can be growth and reconciliation; one can be cured but not healed), or “made well,” however “well” is defined. If they’re not healed or made well, but continue to stubbornly exist as disabled, they clearly don’t have enough faith. People feel the need to find theological reasoning for what the person has endured or is enduring.

It would be tempting to call Christians who treat disabled people in this way as “well-meaning,” but they really are not. They think they are, but what they intend is to uphold the normalcy of having full function and cannot sit well with those who remind us that such is a gift which not all have been given, and it is not a matter of a lack of faith that they remain as they are. Notice how people who need corrective lenses are not treated in such ways. Everyone seems to be able to accept them without too much judgment about it. No one thinks God has failed them if they aren’t restored to 20/20 unhindered vision. So why can’t we treat other forms of disability in the same way?

The author well identifies the challenge: why do Christians see people with disabilities and only see their disabilities? Why can they not see them as…people?

Why can Christians not sit in what they confess as the theological reality of the Fall and the corruption of the creation, and recognize people with disabilities are as fully human as anyone else, and their lives are much more than their condition?

Why are Christians so driven to want to “fix” people who have disabilities or chronic conditions? This same impulse is not present to “fix” those who experience other conditions.

What the author does not discuss, but what is probably at work, is a bunch of deeply primal psychological issues of discomfort with disability. We’re wired/encultured with the expectation of a given range of “normal,” and anything outside that range is marginalized for the safety and overall welfare of the in-group. That’s naturalistic, primal thinking. It should not be so among the people of God.

Thus Christians and churches do well to confess how they have perpetuated ableism, lament it, and prove willing to do whatever is necessary to welcome those with disabilities as full participants in the life of God in Christ and His people.

That will cost money, resources, and effort. It’ll probably require uncomfortable conversations with people who seem oblivious to their ableism. Everyone will have to grapple with the reality of how we all have been affected by the fall and the corruption of the creation, and we all are stronger in some functions and weaker in others, and in Christ our purpose is to be reconciled and jointly participate, and we should remove every hindrance from so doing.

I do appreciate the author’s work, experience, and story. She is right about the way Christians and the church have idolized ableism. We all need to do a lot better.

But I do struggle with some of what is being pushed in the name of disability theology.

I understand the impulse to welcome those who are disabled and to normalize their lives and experience. The author has experienced the weaponization of the hope of incorruption and immortality in the resurrection: you’ll have there what you don’t have here, as if she should look at all she has experienced in terms of lack. That’s quite ugly and uncalled for.

It is noteworthy how Jesus does have the stigmata, the nail prints and the gash of the spear, in His resurrection body (John 20:24-27). We also have to grapple with how Jesus, God in the flesh, experienced disabling in His suffering and crucifixion.

But does this justify a theology of a disabled God and the presence of disability in the resurrection?

This is when I will speak of my experience. I have multiple sclerosis. It was diagnosed in 2017 when I suffered a bout of optic neuritis and lesions were found in my brain and on my spine. To this day my right eye’s optic nerve remains slightly more darkened than the left; I can see out of it without difficulty, but the right eye is not as sensitive to light.

My condition is currently well controlled with immunosuppressant treatments I receive biannually. It does mean I get illnesses which others might fend off without difficulty, and symptoms show up much quicker. I have temperature sensitivity, especially to heat. I have periods of greater vitality and other periods of greater fatigue.

I do not try to make too much of my condition, because I am doing quite well by the grace of God and can generally function in the range of “normal.”

But theologically I give no quarter to my multiple sclerosis. It is absolutely a result of the corruption of the creation. The condition may have something to do with the microbiome, and certainly seems to have something to do with the presence of the Epstein-Barr virus (EBV). For reasons science is still trying to figure out, my immune system randomly decides to attack the myelin sheath of my nerves, and these lead to the lesions on my brain, spine, and optic nerve.

I have full confidence that my immune system will not attack my nerves in the resurrection body. I would imagine the resurrection body would not need an immune system! My disabling condition - and it is indeed a disabling condition, which has caused far more grief to others than I have yet experienced - will not endure for eternity. It does not glorify God. It’s like cancer: the body turning on itself. No one wants to theologically celebrate cancer and no one, including the author, imagines there is a place for cancer in the resurrection. Likewise, there should be no space for multiple sclerosis in the resurrection. Or rheumatoid arthritis, or a thousand other autoimmune conditions.

Thus, just like an ableist theology can distort for all kinds of reasons, disability theology can likewise distort, even if it does so with the best of intentions. The fact that we all have suffered from the fall and the corruption of the creation does not minimize the reality that such remains the theological explanation for the presence of various disabling conditions. We do not have to become Platonists and posit the ideal immune system, or in terms of the author, the ideal leg, to be able to see how God created the immune system and the leg with certain expected functions, and a lack of such functioning, or excess in such functioning, represent distortions and corruptions of that. I have every confidence in God in Christ that He can find a way to honor what the author has experienced while providing her, in the resurrection body, with all that has been lost because of sin and death; that is my expectation for all who will share in the resurrection of life.

The use of Jacob’s story was quite disappointing. You cannot bear effective witness regarding what God did to and through Jacob by going from Genesis 28 to Genesis 32 and then create a strawman Jacob who is today’s self-made man. There are profound and compelling things going on in his relationship with God, making it his own as opposed to entrusting himself to the Fear of his father Isaac; but Jacob’s appeals to his wives in Genesis 31 attest to his understanding of how the only reason he has anything to show for his efforts for the previous 20 years was the blessing and favor of God. This Jacob slander bothered me, and it sadly detracted from what otherwise is a compelling witness: Israel’s own patriarch experienced disabling from an encounter with God, and Israel continued to bear witness to that disabling.

Yes, God prophesies a welcome into the people of God for those who experienced disabling conditions which would have kept them from God’s presence in the Temple. But those same sets of prophecies to Israel also speak about the blind recovering sight, and the lame able to walk, and so on. And I find associations between those unable to communicate with speech and what Paul speaks of regarding the unutterable groans of the Spirit in Romans 8:26-27 to cheapen what Paul is communicating. This is not to dismiss the standing of those who cannot communicate with speech or to suggest they should not be welcomed and honored as fellow people of God in Christ; instead, it’s cheapening the profundity of what Paul is saying in Romans 8, for what the Spirit is groaning could never be expressed by words. It captures something far deeper than human communication.

It pains me to have such qualms with what otherwise is an important testimony for Christians and churches to consider. Treat people with disabilities as people. Welcome them. Don’t make everything about their disability. But be willing to recognize what the person experiences in terms of the disability, find ways to help, and avoid acting like the savior. If they offend your theology and Christology, that’s your problem regarding which you need to better pray and study. ( )

Amy Kenny's missive to the Protestant community, “My Body is Not a Prayer Request” is an entry into the disability rights conversation and there is a lot of positive, humanizing stories by the author about her own experience with disability both within and without of churches. Despite the difficult subject material Kenny's personable writing style encourages us to see her in the fullness of her humanity. As much as I appreciate what Kenny is trying to do and feel that this message is sorely needed with her intended audience, I cannot recommend this book unreservedly. The author's own antisemitism and prejudice undercut her message of loving acceptance.

The book is broken into ten chapters, the first nine of which fall into the following format: an instance when Kenny was treated as less than human due to her disability, a generalization of that instance to a form of discrimination against disabled people, and a religious/ethical argument against that form of discrimination. Each chapter also ends with a few simple exercises for the reader to learn more about the topic. While I think this structure is very effective for introducing people to ableism and making the case that it's immoral, maintaining the same formula for nine chapters starts to feel repetitive. As a lapsed Catholic I also can't speak to the robustness of the theological arguments, but I will say they are as grounded in scripture as any I heard growing up in catechism.

Unfortunately I think the author's privilege will diminish the impact of the text for a lot of readers. While Kenny drew from the experiences of some disabled people to illustrate the universality of ableism, she was clear that this was a very personal narrative. I think that's more than reasonable, but given the explicitly individual nature of her book, I was frustrated that she failed to even mention any ways in which her other identities (beyond being christian) impacted the kind of ableism she experienced. For example, she frequently mentions how people call her 'too pretty' to be disabled. This is a really shitty way to dismiss her, but it's also indelibly linked to her being a woman. After all, I cannot imagine a man of any age being denigrated in the same way. By failing to engage with the intersectional nature of her discrimination I doubt this book will resonate with people who aren't already very similar to her.

More concerning to me are the groups that Kenny conveniently forgets about, or about whom she actively perpetuates harmful stereotypes. For instance, Kenny writes about eugenics early on, and she connects the modern capitalist eugenics movement, the eugenics of the Nazis, and of Aristotle. However whom she chooses to include as victims of the eugenics movement is suspiciously limited:

“Eugenics [is] … an idea that has been used to justify forced sterilization, medical experimentation, and murder, particularly of disabled people, Jewish people, poor people, and people of color” (p26-27)

Ma'am. You missed a few people there. Given that she references the Nazis again in this chapter, the exclusion of the Romani and LGBTQ people in this list is inexcusable. Since she's also emphasizing the long human history of eugenic sterilizations, leaving out LGBTQ people and at the very least some mention of “ethnic or religious minorities” is another major error. This is a single sentence, but it's illustrative of the rest of her book, which also never mentions the existence of LGBTQ people and often forgets about any minority groups, even when it would make more sense to do so. It makes me wonder what other people she left out, intentionally or otherwise.

Worst of all she actively promotes antisemitism with blatantly incorrect statements about the religious beliefs of the entire country of Israel to make her own point. Here is the most blatant example:

“Just like nondisabled people today, Israel is constantly trying to define itself as a people who do not need God. They want to create their own way in the world, to outpace the need for God” (p138)

In context it doesn't get better; she is comparing the country of Israel with the biblical character Israel (ne Jacob), who in her interpretation has integrated his disability into his identity in a positive way. The premise of the quote, that Israel is “a people who do not need God” is demonstrably false. Israel doesn't have a state religion but it has seen a rise in religious extremism within government and politics [1-3]. Furthermore, while Israel has historically been behind the US with regards to disability rights [4], it does have an active disability rights community and a growing awareness that emphasis should be placed on disabled people being integrated into the larger community [5]. While thoughtful critics of Israel could and should be made (and of the US), generalizing an entire (majority Jewish) country with the “bad” aspects in her analogy is discriminatory.

While I think this book does a lot of good work introducing and educating about disability rights, and I think it is a necessary step for Christian communities to become more inclusive, given the rise of antisemitism in the world right now I would be remiss if I didn't call Kenny out for it. If after reading my review you want to take the good with the bad, godspeed.

[1] https://www.axios.com/2022/11/02/israel-election-extreme-far-right-rise-netanyah...
[2] https://www.barrons.com/news/israel-vote-cements-rise-of-extreme-right-016675311...
[3] https://www.timesofisrael.com/with-rise-of-ben-gvir-and-smotrich-israel-risks-a-...
[4] https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/israel-law-review/article/abs/theres-no-...
[5] https://www.jpost.com/opinion/article-707490 ( )

I do not identify as disabled, but work in the disability community and am informed by disability studies and the disability justice movement. Amy Kenny has written a book to reach those who want to be more inclusive of disabled people and help their church fight ableism. Although focused on Christians, it can apply to any religious community.

As a Christian with a disability this book really appealed to me. While I didn't quite connect with the author's humor, I did agree with many of the things she said about how disabled people are treated by our fellow Christians. I hope that people involved in church planning and leadership will take the time to read this book. ( )

Amy Kenny managed to write a reflection on disability culture in the church that was simultaneously light and heavy. This perspective is so needed. As an ally (in as many ways as I possibly can) to the disabled community, this book caused some serious self-reflection. Notably, Kenny did an incredible job of making me realize things people say, from well-intended hearts, which come off as way more condescending and holier-than-thou than I ever realized. I am grateful for this addition to my bookshelf and my mentality. ( )