Spiritual Infringements

The following is an excerpt from Eavesdropping: A Memoir of Blindness and Listening:

There was a waterfall in the hotel's lobby and then there was a woman's voice which was also soft and I had to lean in close to hear her words.  She was offering gently to cure me.  I'd stopped by the rushing water to get my bearings.  I was searching for the exit so I could take my dog outside.  I knew I had to turn right at the waterfall.  And now here she was, the waterfall woman, inviting me to join her church and be healed.

Her congregation she said had recently cured two blind people: a boy and an old woman. Both had been sightless but through the power of Christ they had been restored. Just behind the waterfall I could hear a Muzac rendition of “Hey Jude”.  Somewhere nearby a stepladder creaked as a worker changed light bulbs. I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I thought of salmon returning to their spawning pools, fish battering against the stones.

The woman pressed on. She said she had recently been named "Catholic Woman of the Year" somewhere in Ohio.  She spoke with ardor about faith and healing and the laying on of hands.

The step ladder man closed his aluminum ladder with a satisfying snap and moved away. I listened to him go with a series of squeaks.  Finally I said I had already been healed.  Then I said that I urgently needed to take my dog outside.  I raced off in the general direction of the door.

These spiritual infringements happen all the time.  I’m always standing still at the edge of a hotel lobby or in a parking lot when the moment occurs.  Once in a diner on the New Jersey turnpike I was alone at a table while my friend was getting coffee.  I was listening to the delicate voices of children at a nearby table.  They were admiring my dog.  They were asking their father how the dog knows what I’m thinking.  They thought that a dog guide was psychic.  I was enjoying this idea when I felt a tap on my shoulder.  Again it was a woman’s voice. “I would like very much,” she said, “to pray for you if you’d let me.”  The kids at the near table were laughing because their father was making bubbles with his drinking straw.  Life was unfolding splendidly at their little table.  “Listen,” I said, “I really don’t require prayers.”  I stopped for a moment.  I needed to hold myself back.  I didn’t want to plunge headlong into a theological debate.  I didn’t want to say that my permission might not be required for authentic prayer.  The children’s laughter was very sweet.  “Listen” I said with a smile that I hoped would seem avuncular, “I have a happy life and at just this moment I don’t require any prayers.”  She said nothing in return and merely walked away.  When my friend Richard came back I imagined her watching us as we crossed the parking lot.  I wondered if maybe she was praying for me anyway.  I imagined her walking her daily rounds and searching for prayerful opportunities.  I pictured her scanning each room for a person with a disability.  She must think that disabled people are lonely and lost...

Later in this same chapter... When I go back home to Columbus, Ohio, my wife read aloud a short article from a suburban weekly newspaper.  The woman from the Holiday Inn who had offered to cure me as we stood beside the lobby waterfall had been named Catholic Woman of the Year.  The newspaper suggested without irony that she had cured people with disabilities in her congregation.  My wife stopped reading and suggested helpfully that I forget about blindness and let this ministry cure the tendonitis in my right shoulder.

Comments

[Georgia Whitney]

Steve, I can't believe the crap you have to put up with. However, if you ever run into this lady again, you can ask her to pray for the tendonitis in my right shoulder. I personally never turn down prayer.

This weekend I told my aunt how you spent many years trying to pass for sighted. She looked at me blankly and said, "How'd he manage that?" I then gave her a copy of Planet of the Blind. I also told her the story about your mistaking shaving cream for deodorant. She about died laughing.

Georgia

[The Integral]

Hey there

I got here from Ryn Tales. She featured your post in the 38th disability blog carnival.

Not all Christians are that boorish or condescending. It's totally unbecoming of a real Christian. I can't believe people actually do that.......and society things we the disabled (I'm autistic and adhd) have social problems (relating and interacting with others)...

Since when do we have signs written on our bodies that say "pray for us because we're messed up and need fixing"?

I bet if you actually asked someone that, the whole point would be lost on him or her. The person would just think you're being rude and bitter.

Weird.....

nice post.

The Integral