Disabled = More Valiant in the Pre-existence?
Today marks the return of two things that I haven’t done since January: (1) Write a blog post, and (2) visit my husband’s ward.
My visit to the ward was pleasant. My daughter genuinely seemed to be enjoying herself—she informed me recently that “polka dots are [her] favorite color!“—and it was good to say “hello” to people that I haven’t seen in some time. It was the ward’s “Invitation Sunday,” so Sunday School was cut from the program in favor of food and socializing for the third hour. I’m good with that.
I was chatting with a sister in the ward whom I’m very fond of, and somehow the subject turned to my four year-old daughter and her disabilities. You’ll recall that my daughter has a rare genetic disorder called velo-cardio-facial syndrome or 22q11.2 deletion syndrome, sometimes mistakenly labeled “DiGeorge syndrome.” What does it mean to be missing bits and pieces from your 22nd chromosome? Well, for my daughter, it’s meant:
- Soft Cleft Palate – Which prevented her from breast feeding as a baby. She had to be fed with special cleft nursers.
- Hypotonia – She’s always been behind on physical milestones and spent some time working with a physical therapist when she was younger.
- Umbilical Hernia – This was repaired surgically when she was six weeks old.
- Speech Delays – The cleft palate has of course contributed to this, but most people with VCFS have them. It seems to break a person’s understanding of how language works.
- Weakened Teeth Enamel – Her teeth decay quite rapidly.
- Behavioral Problems – Her behavior is just “off.” I’m not quite sure how to describe it. At one point we feared that she has autism, but that seems less likely now. We’re pretty certain she has either ADD or ADHD, but it hasn’t been diagnosed yet.
My daughter attends a special education pre-school program, though she’s on the high-functioning end of the program. It’s our hope that she can eventually be transitioned into regular classrooms with the help of a teaching aide. She’s had three surgeries in her short lifetime and will likely be having her fourth this year.
Back to my conversation with the sister. Her own children have had some problems (though not as severe as my daughter’s), and we were discussing those. Finally she told me, “I really believe that when someone has challenges in this life like Harley has, it’s because they were a more perfect spirit in the pre-existence and don’t need the same level of testing that we need.”
I wasn’t completely sure what to say. My friend was very heartfelt and sincere, and had shared a thought that was obviously very tender to her. And yet, I can’t say I’m entirely comfortable with the idea.
To be clear, it’s not the first time that I’ve heard it expressed in Mormon discourse. I think the problem of evil and suffering is a very difficult one and I don’t grudge anyone their methods of grappling with it. I also don’t think it’s a bad idea to see people with disabilities in such a positive light rather than the negative light that some people try to heap on them. I remember reading one blogger during the 2008 elections who, in response to the praise directed at Sarah Palin for carrying a trisomy 21 (Down Syndrome) baby to term, began arguing that people with disabilities are a burden to society and it’s okay to abort them, that we needed to stop with the “retard worship.” It made me want to throw up.
But I’m not entirely comfortable with that, because it strikes me as a combination of two other popular LDS explanations for observed detriments, one historic and one current:
- The pre-1978 doctrine that blacks could not hold the priesthood because they were the spirits of those who were less valiant in the pre-existence. [1]
- The current popular notion that women cannot hold the priesthood because they are actuallymore spiritual than men and men need it so that they can learn to be on par with women.
It’s like (1) because it draws on alleged pre-existence behavior in an attempt to explain a current situation. However, it’s also like (2) because, it attempts to say that the disabled are actually better than the rest of us—and this is why they do not need healthy minds and bodies.(1) was logically consistent but theologically ugly, while (2) is just incredibly backwards. If women are really more spiritual than men, then that’s all the more reason to put them in places of spiritual leadership where they’ll get the most use out of their superior talents. Likewise, if my daughter is really a more valiant and perfect spirit, isn’t that all the more reason to give her a healthy mind and body where she can do the most good for the human race?
For my own part, it’s my belief in the Imago Dei that gives me a high view of the disabled (and the rest of humanity, for that matter). The book of Genesis teaches that all of humanity was created in the Imago Dei, and I believe this gives each and every one of us inherent worth no matter what the circumstances effecting us. I affirm the worth of all kinds of groups that society tends to look down on (or at least used to), and I believe that you do not stop being valuable in the eyes of God just because you lose your contributing value to society. It does not matter if you are elderly, infirm, disabled, unattractive, unathletic, unproductive, undesirable, in prison, or unborn. Being created in the image of God gives you an inherent worth and value that no one can take away, and your life is worth saving. You don’t stop being made in the image of God just because you’re one of the above and society has little use for you.
I smiled at my friend and agreed that my daughter probably is a more perfect spirit than I am. Because I have to admit, I do think that much is true.
Whom crippled bodies hedge around,
Lest flesh unscathed should shelter souls
Puffed up with pride and insolence.
When illness racks the human frame,
The spirit burns more ardently;
When members glow with health and strength,
The powers of mind and soul are dulled.” (Liber Peristephanon 2.205-212)
(The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis is also useful on this subject.)