Church Shopping in a Wheelchair

My wife, Judy, and I recently moved our residence. Soon we were ready to do some church shopping. Some new friends in our new location invited us to their church, so we decided to give it a try. It is a small congregation of a different denomination than ours. But we were open to a new experience in church life, so we planned our first visit with eagerness.

My wife uses a wheelchair, so one of the most important features we would need in a church was barrier-free access. We found an additional portable power chair on Amazon that I was able to lift into our car by myself. We were now equipped!

Needing to scope out our friends’ church building for my wife’s sake, I attended first without her. I was very curious about the access issues she would encounter. I was warmly greeted by the congregants, and attending with our friends made it easier and more pleasant. When I got home, I gave my wife a positive report on the friendliness, but the access factor was not as optimistic. Since it was an old church building, the entrance to the rear of the sanctuary butted right up to the street, connected by numerous steps. The only way my wife could enter the sanctuary in her wheelchair was through a door behind the pulpit coming from the fellowship hall. Then two rather tight turns would bring her to a ramp, which we soon discovered had a slope that was not compliant with the Americans with Disabilities Act. At the bottom of the ramp was a sharp left turn that would put us in the front row of the seating area, where one pew had been shortened in length to make space for people who use wheelchairs. My wife would then have a choice of remaining in her wheelchair or shifting over to a pew seat on a traditional pew—the uncomfortable kind. Despite these challenges, my wife agreed to give it a try since our new friends would be happily accompanying us.

We attempted to arrive early that next Sunday morning, but because there is so much preparation just to go anywhere for a person with a disability, we arrived just as the service began. Nervously, Judy made her way through the turns right behind the occupied pulpit, but her chair hit the wall of dark-stained walnut that decorated the antique-looking chancel. When we reached the ramp, she forgot to change the speed of the chair, zoomed down the ramp too fast, and fell halfway out. We regrouped at the bottom of the ramp and made the sharp left turn to the seating area. I could see the panic in her eyes as she finally reached her spot. She didn’t dare try to change seats from the wheelchair to the pew. It took her most of the service to calm down enough to be able to worship. However, at the end of the service many people kindly welcomed us, which soothed our frustration.

The pastor called on us the following week at our barrier-free home. He reported that the building committee had already started to replace the aging church’s outdoor ramp with new boards, and they sawed another pew in half to increase the “handicapped seating area” at the bottom of the ramp. Clearly we had stirred the pot with our entrance the previous Sunday, and it was heartwarming to see them trying to be responsive to Judy’s needs.

We decided we needed a different portable power chair if we were to continue our attempts to worship at this church. So we returned the one we had bought to get another that had a much better turning radius to navigate those sharp turns and steep ramps. We did not attend worship until it arrived, but while we waited, we were added to the mailing list of the church and invited to other church events. It seemed that we might have found our new church home.

The new power chair arrived, and we headed out the next Sunday for another attempt at a regaining church life. We even arrived a little early. Judy navigated the turns into the sanctuary better this time, without bangs or bumps against the beautiful woodwork. But again, even at a slower speed, the ramp was too steep, and Judy almost repeated the premature exit from her chair on the way down. Thankfully, I was behind her, and with all my strength I pulled the chair to a stop.

Soon we were safe in the now-bigger disability area. But our calm was short-lived. As Judy put her chair in reverse, we were embarrassingly reminded that our new chair came equipped with a loud alarm when in reverse, just like garbage trucks. Everything in worship stopped dead, and I heard chuckles from the congregation. But once more Judy’s disability had robbed her of dignity, and she teared up.

The rest of the service was a blur. After an hour we were more than ready to go home. But to our surprise, it was then announced that a missionary whom this church supports was now going to give a presentation about his ministry for the next half hour, and all were respectfully asked to remain seated. After 10 more minutes, it was clear to Judy that she would have to exit for personal reasons. The missionary was mid-message, and we reluctantly began our exit with all eyes on us. Judy had to shift to her chair, move forward to clear the pew, and then back up with BEEP-BEEP-BEEP proclamations ringing through the sanctuary. She accelerated up the ramp and navigated the right turns behind the pulpit like a racecar driver. Tears were running down her cheeks as I embarrassedly waved goodbye to the congregation. We fled to the safety of our home.

We never went back. The pastor never called us to find out why. But no explanation was necessary for either of us. We all knew what happened, and we all knew that it was nobody’s fault and that nobody could fix it. They tried to love us, but brick and mortar blocked love from being exchanged. Everyone was sad because everyone had tried so hard to create a good outcome for Judy.

The good news is that we can now laugh about it, and it didn’t stop us from church shopping. We now attend a different small church in our town that is all one level from parking lot to sanctuary. All of Judy’s personal needs can be met discreetly, the seats are more comfy than her wheelchair, and there is plenty of room for her to be just another person where all the people gather. Most importantly, there’s no need for the BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. This church has the ideal brick and mortar for people who church shop in a wheelchair.

If you can’t get into a church building, it’s pretty difficult to get into a church fellowship.