My cousin Hallie loves The Andy Griffith Show, sparkly necklaces, and brownies. She also has Down Syndrome. When she was born, my aunt and uncle were surprised by her diagnosis, but they quickly set out to learn how best to love and care for their daughter. Not long after, a well-meaning friend visited and said, “God is going to heal your daughter of this disease.”
That comment revealed something deeper than one person’s misunderstanding. It reflected a tendency within the church to see difference as something to be fixed. But Hallie doesn’t need healing—at least not any more than the rest of us. Her life, with all its brightness and joy, has taught our family more about grace than many sermons ever could.
I was reminded of Hallie while reading Amos Yong’s The Bible, Disability, and the Church. This book is part of the assigned reading in my Doctor of Ministry program his year. Yong argues that the church often views disability through an ableist lens—as a problem to overcome—rather than as part of the diversity of God’s good creation. He invites us to imagine what it means to bear God’s image not because we fit a “norm,” but because God’s image shines through the uniqueness of every body and mind.
Yong’s insight reshaped how I read the Gospels. In John 9, when Jesus heals the man born blind, the story’s real focus isn’t the man’s eyesight but his recognition of who Jesus is. Healing, Yong suggests, isn’t about making someone “normal.” It’s about opening our eyes to see God’s presence in every person.
[Yong] invites us to imagine what it means to bear God’s image not because we fit a “norm,” but because God’s image shines through the uniqueness of every body and mind.
In the resurrected Christ—whose body still bears its scars—we glimpse a future where difference is not erased but redeemed. The body of Christ is not whole without every member. Hallie reminds me daily that she isn’t waiting to be healed; we are. The healing we need is of our sight—so that we can see one another as God does: wonderfully made and perfectly loved.
Rev. Tyler Tankersley
