top of page
Search

What is Disability Theology?: An Introduction

  • Writer: Petre Maican
    Petre Maican
  • Aug 1
  • 5 min read

Updated: Sep 17

Disability theology is probably among the most misunderstood terms in Eastern Orthodoxy. Some see it as unnecessary, a newly invented terminology for describing something that was already there, i.e. illness and suffering, the majority of faithful, however, have not yet reflected on the topic, leaving it for those who have a vested interest in it (i.e. persons with disabilities and their carers).


The main goal of my theological project is to dispel the misunderstandings surrounding disability theology and convince those who never thought about this topic to take a closer look. In this sense, my work always begins by explaining that disability theology is not something entirely new. The Cappadocian Fathers were among the first not only to take care of those suffering from various illnesses by establishing the first public sanatorium but also the first to ask for the inclusion of persons with disabilities in public spaces.


What is new nowadays is the difference between disability and impairment, between the atypical functioning of the human body be it physical, mental or cognitive, and the suffering and frustrations provoked by isolation, stigmatisation and exclusion. This difference enables us to avoid looking at the persons with disabilities as a diagnostic that has to be fixed and ask ourselves whether our practices, as a community, are inclusive.


After setting the stage this way, I take one of the following three steps: I insist on taking into account disability in theological anthropology, I explain the rationale for including persons with disabilities in our communities and/or I argue for and give advice on the removal of barriers that prevent the inclusion of persons with disabilities in our churches.


It is close to truism to say that disability is rarely discussed by modern orthodox theologians, especially when we talk about systematic theologians who write about human nature. Vladimir Lossky, Dumitru Stăniloae, John Zizioulas are only marginally interested in disability or the broader concept of illness. They tend to present human beings in their relationship with God, as persons in full health without any kind of worries, difficult decisions to make or any traumas to face. It is as if, St Paul’s thorn in the flesh did not exist, St Basil the Great’s illness was  not challenging for his everyday life, and St Gregory of Nazianzen never wrote that “Night and day my mind and members are consumed by a host of gnawing anxieties that drag me down from heaven to my mother earth.”[1] 


The impact of this approach is to relegate all that is related to disability to the realm of practical theology or in some cases, spirituality, when in fact it should be at the centre of any anthropological reflection, whether systematic, practical, or spiritual. Humans are fragile beings who have limitations of their own at almost every moment of their lives. Their relationship with God in Christ cannot be fully understood if our reflection starts from the imaginary ‘normal’ human being.


Some might argue that we cannot take into account all differences when we debate something so abstract as human nature, or even that when thinking of human nature we should focus on its perfect existence in Christ. There is some truth in these claims, but they fail to account not only the fallen condition of human existence – something very far away from the pragmatism of the patristic tradition – but more important still that our differences are meaningful. Humans have not been created as a collection of identical individuals but as members of the body of Christ. As St. Paul teaches us in 1 Corinthians 12, each baptised member of the Church has his or her gift to bring to the fore for the benefit of the community. These spiritual gifts, discovered through interaction with one another, belong to all those baptised in Christ, regardless of the way in which their body or mind functions. Without persons with disabilities, our theological reflection and communal life are poorer and the body of Christ is incomplete.


The most difficult step is to encourage Orthodox parishes to take action and remove barriers. This is the case, not because Orthodox faithful are not welcoming, but because the impact of certain barriers takes time to be comprehended. There are two main types of barriers: physical and emotional. Physical barriers are, in a sense, the easiest to remove. The majority of parishioners would agree to have a ramp installed for wheel-chair users. Some would even give up their places so that a sign language interpreter could interpret the liturgy and the sermon for those from the deaf community. Challenges arise when we are dealing with disabilities like autism. For some persons on the autistic spectrum the sound, the lighting, or even the smell of incense can prove difficult to bear. Would we accept to remove the incense from the censer so that we can include someone at the Eucharistic table?


What is truly demanding however is to help parishioners overcome their emotional barriers, that is the prejudices and negative emotions towards persons with disabilities that seem to be entrenched in our culture. It is incredibly sad to notice how many prejudices about persons with disabilities one can hear during a coffee conversation after the liturgy: from the link between sin and disability, mental illness and demonic possession to the more ‘nuanced’ positions that we are all disabled in some way, or that there is some virtue to be gained from living with a disability.


ree

The usage of these stereotypes is not surprising to me anymore. It now seems ‘normal’ because I understood that they function as a barrier. Atypical bodies or behaviours stir in us fear, pity, or disgust. All these emotions try to protect us from contagion, from having to think too much about the fragility of our own condition. It feels safer to run away, to be disgusted and reproduce stigmatising patterns of thought. They all help separate the speaker from the unpleasant idea that at some point in life, he or she might end up disabled. So, what I propose is to learn how to deal with these emotions in order to be able to see the person in front of us, not as a diagnosis, not as a spiritual stereotype, or as someone who makes us uncomfortable but as the full member of the body of Christ that can help us strengthen our connection with one another in Christ.



*This text first appeared in the Orthodox Observer 24.07.2025


[1] Carm. 2.1.1, ll. 140-141 (Concerning his own affairs; PG 37.980; ET: D. Meehan, St. Gregory of Nazianzus: Three Poems, FOTC 75 [Washington D.C.: CUA Press, 1987], 29).

 
 
 

Comments


Petre Maican

©2025 by Petre Maican

bottom of page