Going to Church is Harder than You Think

Before I write another word, I need to be honest about something. I’m a pastor. If you have followed my writings and ministry about autism and the church that recognition does not come as a shock. I need to say that clearly in the opening words of this essay before I write anything else.

I am a pastor.

I am a pastor who has invisible disabilities.

I am a pastor who has invisible disabilities, who has two children with invisible disabilities.

I am a pastor who has invisible disabilities, who has two children with invisible disabilities, and I find being in worship every week a challenge.

I’m not talking about the challenge that comes in placing church up against other desired interests or desires, such as staying home to watch an early baseball game or to attend a youth sporting event. No, I find church challenging because each week it is a battle to attend worship that forces both myself and my family to prepare ourselves for days to attend.

Yes, I said days.

This kind of preparation is not about what kind of clothes we will wear, what time we will leave, or where we will go eat after worship. I wish it were that simple. No, this kind of preparation focuses on the mental and physical challenges that comes in immersing yourself in an environment that feel chaotic, overstimulating, and exhausting to be in for even an hour.

Going to church, for me and our family, is like walking into our worst nightmare every week. Please don’t read something else into those words. I am not saying that we do not love worship or the church. In fact, it is the opposite. We love being in worship and being with fellow believers in the journey of faith. We love the church and our faith.

That does not mean, though, that going to church is easy. It is not. It is the most difficult and challenging thing we do every week. I am not alone in that. For many people with physical or invisible disabilities, going to worship is a physically and emotionally exhausting endeavor that is not always recognized as the challenges that it is for people and families.

For me, with my invisible disabilities, I feel like I am inside a pressure cooker in church. I get overwhelmed by the loud music, the lights hurt my eyes, the sound reverberates like nails on a chalkboard, and I am constantly tense to make sure I did not forget something, say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing. I am always wearing a “mask,” to hide all of this that comes out in sharing bad dad jokes, making sure everything happens without a hitch, and establishing a set routine of how and when I do certain things to get through the day. It is my way of trying to control the chaotic environment that I find myself in each week.

For my kids, it is like walking into an environment not made for them. They are expected to act a certain way, and fit people’s expectations of what a child should be like. That one does not speak in conversational ways, leads him to receive side remarks of “when will he speak” or “can he talk?” While my youngest and his high energy levels, leads some to get exhausted by how much he is “all over the place.”

They worship on edge, because they know they are being judged for what they are not and not always accepted for who they are as children of God. When they come home, it takes almost a full day to detox, which often means a lot of noise, releasing of energy, and stress responses.

I’m not sure the church, as a whole, recognizes the depth of the challenges people with disabilities experience in attending worship. We talk about getting ready for worship is hard, but we do so only through a normative experience of family life. One that focuses on the typical family that simply has routine challenges of getting the entire family out of the door and into the church. Too often the church presumes that those challenges of getting the kids fed and dressed are the same for all.

That reality is not always true, especially for people with disabilities. When we ignore the challenges people with disabilities face in simply attending worship, we close off potential avenues for relationships and grace that can build a more inclusive community.

For the church to be inclusive of the disability community requires it to live with a posture of gratitude and appreciation. A sense of thanksgiving that comes in the recognition that if someone with a disability attends worship that it took a heavy emotional workout to get them to that place.

Living with a posture of appreciation, recognizing how church is hard for many people, can be a small victory of inclusion, which can lead to deeper relationships and acceptance. It is a better response than those of passive judgment, which is often expressed when the disabled person attends worship after not being around for a few weeks. Instead of offering appreciation and thanksgiving, we offer passive judgment by making reference to how they have not been around in some time. Responses of passive judgment limits the ability to recognize the challenges a person may face, because it presumes that if one person can attend each week, then, it must not be that hard for everyone to attend weekly.

If only life was that simple. If only going to worship was a simple matter of getting dressed and heading out the door. If only going to worship was a simple act of participating in worship and going home.

Church is hard and getting ready for worship is hard for many people. I’m one of them. My family is among them.

And, the more we can recognize the challenges families with disabilities who desire to worship face in attending, the more we can be a more inclusive environment that makes room for everyone to worship God.