"If you bite and devour one another, beware lest you be consumed by one another!" (Gal. 5:15, NKJV).

"My friends, if anyone is detected in a transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness. Take care that you yourselves are not tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if those who are nothing think they are something, they deceive themselves. All must test their own work; then that work, rather than their neighbor's work, will become a cause for pride" (Gal. 6:1-4, NRSV).

hree years ago my back failed me. I couldn't stand or sit or lie on my side for more than a few seconds without great pain. The only comfortable position was flat on my back, floating on narcotics. The doctor in the pain clinic injected cortisone into my spine. The chiropractor tweaked my vertebrae. The elders anointed me. There was no apparent effect.

I feared I would never stand or even sit again. When my wife took me to the doctor's office, she carried a foam pallet for me. I lay on the waiting room floor like the man at the Pool of Bethesda, waiting for an angel to stir the waters.

Finally, after six weeks, I went to a neurosurgeon. He said, "Stand on your left leg and rise up onto your toes."

My brain said, "I will," but my body did not respond. "O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?"

The surgeon said, "If you're willing, I'll operate tomorrow."

"I'm willing," I said. "The surgery scares me, but it can't be worse than the way I am now."

When I awoke, the sciatic nerve pain was gone. The next morning I sat up to eat breakfast, then slowly walked the hospital halls, praising God. But I didn't run and jump. That took time. First came several months of exercising numb muscles, waiting for nerves to recover. I still get cramps in my left calf that remind me where I've been.

In our spiritual life it's not enough to submit to the knife of the Great Surgeon. We also need the guiding hand of the Great Physical Therapist. He gives us exercises that strengthen us. He asks us to come (Matt. 11:28). He tells us to go (Matt. 28:18-20). He gives us challenges (1 Cor. 10:13). He asks us to follow (Matt. 4:19). The exercises are progressive, building us without discouraging us (Phil. 4:13). "Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. 'Make level paths for your feet,' so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed" (Heb. 12:12, 13, NIV; see also verses 1-11).

My late grandmother had both arthritic knees replaced. She was soon walking a mile a day-more than she'd been able to walk for years. But she didn't continue with her bending and stretching exercises, because they hurt. Scar tissue formed in her joints. Soon she could no longer walk more than a few yards, and the pain returned.

Spiritually, a lot of us are in a similar condition.

Can the Body of Christ Have Disabilities?
There was a time when we pegged some people as "crippled" and avoided them. Today we're learning to see those with disabilities as "differently abled." We've found that in many cases, providing a motorized wheelchair, a car with hydraulic controls, sidewalk ramps, and barrier-free restrooms frees a person to become a corporate president, or at least have some personal freedom and control.

In society we've learned to work around problems and make use of what abilities a person may have. We're learning to treat the physically and mentally challenged as human beings who can succeed and contribute, given a little extra help.

Spiritually, we are all handicapped. We are all disabled. We are all challenged. We are all suffering from birth defects and are scarred from childhood accidents.

The apostle Paul writes, in essence, "The things my heart says 'Do!' my flesh doesn't do, and when my heart says 'Don't do it!' my flesh does it anyway" (Rom. 7:14-25). That's not an excuse or a license, but the human condition. It's an inspired commentary on the way things are with us, and in our hearts we know it's true.

We have not yet learned, though, that every part of the body of Christ but the Head has some form of disability. It's time we realized that instead of shunning those members who have spiritual deficiencies, we need to fit them with braces and crutches and put them to work doing whatever they can. Out in the world, we are discovering that if we get to know them and learn how to enable them, we may find that they are wonderful, delightful, capable people.

In the church we often shun our spiritually disabled rather than helping them. There are some disabilities we accept, true, but there are others we do not. Sometimes it's "Trip once and you're out." We especially do not want pastors who have disabilities. When we see a person with a withered hand, we don't assume the whole person is withered. But when a pastor with a limp trips and falls, why does their congregation assume there's no hope?

Here's my main point: Instead of rejecting a whole person because of a spiritual weakness in one part of the body or mind, we need to help the person deal with that problem for the sake of the health of the body of Christ.

We may even need to make allowances for that problem, work around it. Some people make a nearly full recovery, but will always walk with a limp. Completely removing a colon cancer may leave one with a colostomy bag. Even when a person returns to full health following major surgery by the Great Physician, there may be an unsightly scar, and that scar may ache a little when the weather changes.

The church is a rehabilitation hospital where people come to get back on their feet, and a good rehabilitation hospital has to be barrier-free, or patients get hurt.

Jeering at a Classmate
It's useful to distinguish between being handicapped by lack of talent or by a tendency toward some type of sin. Let's look first at those disabled by mediocrity.

In the Christian college I attended I had a classmate who had remarkable self-confidence, but because of an accident at birth he lurched when he walked, had bizarre facial tics, and slurred his speech. We mimicked him. We laughed when he asked out pretty girls-who of course turned him down. We smirked when he wanted to be a physician, and again when he later tried to sell life insurance. We rolled our eyes when he responded to an altar call, bawled out his personal testimony, and was baptized. We thought he should be working at Goodwill Industries or ringing a bell for the Salvation Army, not going to college. Shame on us!

I've come to realize that when church members criticize or gossip, they are nearly always jeering at someone. Why? Because they are complaining about people who may be doing the best they can, instead of making their paths straight.

Those boring pastors may have spent 30 hours on one sermon. Perhaps they don't visit members because they're shy, and intruding into people's lives terrifies them. That woman with the appalling dress may have saved for months to buy the cut-rate fabric she sewed herself. That man with three hundred hairs carefully combed over his shining dome may be fooling no one but himself, but do we realize his intense embarrassment at being follicly challenged? That self-celebrated soprano may be singing flat, but have we heard ourselves lately?

Again, I am not talking here about tendencies to sin or weaknesses that interfere with our walk with God. These are mere matters of taste and talent in the body of Christ. Are we so upstanding that we're entitled to kick these members' crutches verbally?

Yet pastors have lost their livelihoods because of their haircuts or suits or accents, because of a chance word on a bad day or a tentative position tested in a worship talk.

We have ostracized people both for buying a Mercedes and for driving a rusty clunker, for wearing jeans to church and for wearing a suit. We have avoided fellow Christians because they are too smart or too dumb, too pretty or too ugly, too rich or too poor, too neat or too sloppy. We must be willing to call sin by its right name, and we must be willing to train the trainable. We must also, however, make endless allowances for the leopards among us who cannot change their spots, for annoying but unconscious mannerisms, for those whose offensively blunt habit of speech has been passed down for
generations.

Yes, these people walk with a limp. But does it matter? Looked in the mirror lately?

What's Your Disability?
My friend Jason rides a motorized wheelchair, but he's a deep thinker and knows his Bible. His legs don't work, but his spirit walks with God. Last time I saw him, he asked me to pray that his problems won't make him grow impatient and snap at those caring for him. That momentary lack of gratitude and an occasional slide into depression are the spiritual weaknesses he bears because of his physical challenges.

What deficiency interferes with your own walk with God?

Perhaps you are addicted to housecleaning or yardwork.

Yes, these are disabilities, and untreated, they all lead to sin. But consider this: Some disabilities you can overcome, such as stuttering or lisping. Some disabilities you can learn to work around, such as a paralyzed muscle. If you learn to surmount your spiritual disabilities, you may become a role model for others. Those who walk with a limp may walk more slowly, but they walk.

What's more, overcomers make the best teachers. They can tell us what worked for them, what to expect, when to expect it.

Even those who haven't completely recovered make good teachers. The stroke victim who has learned tricks for feeding themselves or reaching items on high shelves has knowledge worth sharing.

Born Again-But Still Disabled?
We agree that in our glorified bodies in the new earth there will no more suffering, no more tears, no more disabilities, no more sin. But what about being born again? If we are truly born again, born of God, can we still have weaknesses?

Sometimes God heals our infirmities. Sometimes God gives us strength to overcome them. Sometimes He helps us bear them without sin. Rebirth is life-changing and liberating, but primarily spiritual. Any physical changes are usually the effect of receiving a renewed spirit within us.

A friend of mine argues that because homosexuality is sinful, it is not possible to be both born again and tempted by homosexuality. The disability model suggests otherwise. Those who are reborn may be tempted by what they long to escape. They may even fall and need to be helped up.

My friend Jason is born again, but still in a wheelchair and still sometimes impatient. God has healed his spirit but not his body, and even his spirit still needs exercising so it can grow strong. Should it be surprising, then, if God heals a homosexual's spirit, yet does not necessarily remove the attraction to others of the same sex?

To give in to the urge would be a sin. God offers strength to resist the temptation, and with God's strength the temptation can indeed be resisted, the attraction transcended. But what if the person lets go of God's hand for a moment and stumbles? Should we kick them, or help them to their feet?

If a person walking with crutches falls down, we don't expel them from the church. If a child with epilepsy has a seizure, they are not shunned, but helped. How fast should the body of Christ be to amputate its weaker members? Is it better to have a shriveled leg in a brace or to cut it off and have no leg?

Remember my aching back? Our surrender to the Great Physician frees Him to cut and sew. We wake up new creations, in a way, as if reborn. The pain is gone, but we're still weak. Our muscles have atrophied. We have to learn to walk again. And we still have cramps now and then.

Being born again marks the change from being sick with a terminal disease to being convalescent. It begins the restoration of God's image in us. But convalescents often have setbacks. It's not our place to create a master race by purging the weak and fallen in our church. God strengthens people one step at a time. We should do the same. This is not the same as condoning sin or welcoming sin. It is Jesus who tells us to pray, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." It is Jesus who cautions us, "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone." And all have disabilities.

Sinners Anonymous
Alcoholics Anonymous does not condone alcoholism, but its primary purpose is to minister to alcoholics and their families. Alcoholics come to the meetings, admit what they are, ask their "higher power" for help, and are strengthened by the support of other alcoholics who, likewise, are determined to be free of the slavery of alcohol.

Why can't our church be a sort of Sinners Anonymous? Why can't it be a place where a woman can stand up and say, "I saw a really handsome man in a restaurant last Tuesday, and after he flirted with me I spent the afternoon daydreaming about him; God forgive me"? a place where those nearby lay their hands on her shoulders while someone prays for her?

What if someone stands up and says, "I don't know what got into me; I haven't had a drink in 10 years, but I went into a bar and bought a beer-please pray for me"? Could we pray and forgive and comfort, or would we first have to take it to the church board and remove the person from church office for a year, just in case?

What if a boy says, "Please pray for me; I lost my temper and yelled at my mom"? And what if he confesses that sin every week for a year (James 5:16; Matt. 18:22)? Can we still forgive? More than that, can we patiently mentor and disciple him, help him with his physical therapy, encourage and praise him?

Are we that willing to support and strengthen those addicted to sin who want to break the habit? Well, what about the marriage counselor who has, by the grace of God, said no to extramarital sexual temptations for 15 years, but turns briefly from God and falls? He is badly battered and in despair. Do we throw our arms around him and help him start over, or shiver with disgust?

If a teenage member of the body of Christ gets pregnant but is heartily sorry and in need of our help, must we treat her the same as the teenager who moves in with her boyfriend and argues that it's not wrong (1 Cor. 1:1-5 versus 2 Cor. 2:5-8; John 8:11)?

When a pastor falls, what responsibility does the congregation bear? Did they provide a group to support him? Could he share his struggles, much less confess his sins, without jeopardizing his livelihood? Did they see him as a recovering sinner always one false step from a relapse, or somehow imagine that he was completely cured from sin?

God Hires Those With Disabilities
It's not a sin to have a mental or physical disability, even though in some cases disabilities may be a result of sin, or at least of living in a fallen world. The spiritual deficiencies I'm talking about are also not sins, but rather something we bear because we live in a fallen world, a world of birth defects. The sin is not in the tendency or the temptation, but in the giving in (1 Cor. 10:13). Even Jesus was continually tested, just as we are, yet those temptations were not in themselves sin (Heb. 4:15).

We are a church full of disabilities, and we are constantly falling down, but we are also the body of Christ. When Jesus lived among us, "he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows" (Isa. 53:4, NIV). He was God and man at the same time. Today our heavenly Head is still attached to an infirm and sorrowing body-us.

We have weaknesses, yet we are His body. So He will say, "If you're willing, I'll operate right now." If our weak legs fail us and we fall, He will prop us up. He will exercise us and strengthen us. He will enable us. He will not give up on us unless we insist on amputating ourselves from His body, though even then He is willing to sew us back on.

If our Head takes this attitude toward us, what attitude should we take toward each other? Imagine the First Church of the Spiritually Handicapped eagerly limping along in the footsteps of its Head. People who are paralyzed are giving directions while children with Down's syndrome push their wheelchairs. Those who are deaf are leading those who are blind. People are always tripping and falling, but others are always helping them up and urging them on. The dwarfs are lifted up so they can see. The giants are supported so they don't stumble. The closer everyone presses together, the less often they fall. The farther they walk together, following the Head, the stronger they grow.

Alone, we all walk with a limp.

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Ed Christian teaches English and biblical literature at Kutztown University of Pennsylvania. He also edits the Journal of the Adventist Theological Society.