We have collected a lot of anecdotal evidence from visually impaired people and used their experiences to dramatise two visits to church. All of the experiences contained in these two stories are real - they have happened to us or to people we know. They may not all have happened on the same occasion, but we’ve used a bit of artistic license to give a full picture of the good and the bad.
Althouabgh these stories are based around visits to traditional churches, the principles that they express are applicle to many settings, and we’re sure you’ll be able to translate them to your situation if your premises are different.
So, let us take you on two imaginary trips to church with Dave and Jarvis, his guide dog. The first is to a church where there has been no training and the people are not aware of the needs of visually impaired people. The second is to a church where the people are well-informed, aware and friendly to their visually impaired visitors.
The First Sunday
Arriving in the church car park I find that the only designated disabled bay is taken by a car not displaying a blue badge. It is 7pm on a winter’s night and there are no exterior lights on in the car park, it is very dark. Jarvis and I make our way across the car park, stumbling over several unseen obstacles en route.
Eventually we find the entrance. There is a lobby where the outer door opens inwards and the inner door opens outwards. As I’m trying to deal with this and getting tangled up in leads and harness, one of the parishioners thinks this would be a good time to introduce herself to Jarvis without even bothering to ask me if it’s a good idea.
Finally I make it in to the Narthex and am greeted by a member of the welcome team who, whilst introducing herself to me, has already begun to stroke Jarvis - again without asking me. I’ve not been here two minutes and my mood is beginning to boil already. I explain to the lady that there are no lights on in the car park and that the only disabled bay in the car park is occupied. “Oh” she says, “we can’t afford to run the outside lighting - and the vicar always parks his car there”.
“I would like to welcome you to our church” she says. “Would you really” is what I’m thinking. She hands me an order of service and a hymn book - both in 10 point Times New Roman. I explain that I won’t be able to read them so she quickly grabs them back off me without warning. I ask if she has any accessible copies in Braille or large print but she says they don’t and excuses herself by saying they have never been asked for them before. I try another tack and ask do they have a screen and projector and will the service be displayed on that - only to be told that there is one, but the vicar doesn’t know how to use powerpoint so they don’t bother with it.
The service is due to start soon and I want to find a suitable seat for Jarvis and I so I try and make my way through the Narthex which is crowded with people arriving, chatting, getting hymn books and visiting the fairtrade stall, as well as a group of young children playing a chase game. As I move out of the Narthex area and in to the centre aisle I crash in to a collection box on a stand in the aisle, only to be tutted at by an angry parishioner.
As I move through the chancel I noticed that in an effort again to save money, many of the lights have been turned off. Without Jarvis to guide me I would never have made it down this aisle.
I made my way to the front pew where I am best able to use the little sight I have and where there is extra floor space for Jarvis, only to be told that these seats were reserved for dignitaries. “There is space over there behind that pillar and your dog won’t be in anyone’s way” was what I was told. So I’m now sitting in a place of shadow, behind a pillar, without reading material and no view of the altar, imagine how welcome I’m feeling now.
A bell rings and the celebrants begin to process into church. The woman behind me nudges me in the back and in a very loud whisper orders me to stand. I explain that if I stand now, that would signal to Jarvis that we are about to move off - and as we are not, we’ll remain seated. She tuts at me.
As the service begins, I notice Jarvis’s lead begin to tighten. The gentleman next to me has slipped him a boiled sweet. When I explain that this is not acceptable, he scowls at me.
We make our way through the service without much further incident, but with me unable to join in the responses because of a lack of an accessible order of service.
Finally we make it to communion and as I’m making my way to the altar rail, people in the queue are constantly trying to fuss Jarvis as he is guiding me. Everyone is kneeling at the altar rail, but I remain standing - if I kneel down beside Jarvis, he will think it’s play time and get excited. Again the person next to msayse “kneel!” in a loud and angry whisper.
The priest reluctantly gives me the host in my one outstretched hand - the other hand still hanging on to Jarvis - and is followed by a lady with the chalice who refuses to let go of it, making it very difficult for me. In my own church the priest always gives Jarvis a blessing at this point - recognising him as a real part of the team. No blessing for Jarvis was forthcoming today, however.
The Second Sunday
On arrival at the car park we immediately notice a well-lit sign giving clear directions to the disabled parking spaces. There are plenty of disabled bays, some of which are already occupied by cars displaying blue badges, but there are still spaces available. We park the car, and I’m relieved to notice that there’s plenty of space for me to get Jarvis out of the back and put on his harness, without us having to stand in the roadway.
Once again, there is a clear well-lit sign guiding us to the main door of the church. There is an A-board, but as it’s placed on the verge at the side of the path in a well-lit area, it’s not causing any obstacle to anyone.
We are greeted outside the entrance by a member of the welcome team, who has noticed our approach and opened the door for us. The narthex is well-lit and free from obstacles and we receive a warm welcome. Already, this is becoming a much more pleasurable experience. Since the welcome has been so hospitable and friendly, I introduce him to Jarvis and ask if he’d like to give him a stroke.
Once he’s said ‘hi’ to Jarvis, he offers me a hymn book and an order of service, which are both in Clear Print. I notice, on the same shelf, there are also Braille and Large Print copies. The gentleman also explains that everything in the books will be displayed, in Clear Print, on a projection screen at the front of the nave. He tells me that there is reserved seating at the front, in the centre, for visually impaired people, and offers to guide me there if I should need it. As the Narthex is well laid out, well-lit and clear of obstacles, I tell him that Jarvis and I will be fine. I am pleased to find that the Nave Aisle is similarly free from obstacles and well lit, and we find our seats without problem. There is plenty of room for Jarvis, and he lies down and makes himself comfortable.
As the service begins, I am sitting in a good seat, from which I can see the screen clearly. I am comfortable and relaxed, and feeling very welcome. Jarvis is getting plenty of admiring looks, but nobody has attempted to fuss him or in any way distract him. It’s great to be able to read the screen easily, and join in with the responses.
On the way up to Communion, Jarvis is again receiving lots of admiring glances, but nobody bothers him and he is free to guide me without distraction. We are both thrilled when the celebrant leans over the altar rail and gives Jarvis his blessing.
At the end of the service, the priest gives an invitation to everyone to stay for coffee in the Narthex. One of the welcomers comes over to me and offers to walk me to get a coffee and show me to a table. Jarvis makes himself at home under the table, where there is plenty of room for him, and I am joined by a few other worshippers for a chat over our coffee. I’m even pleased to discover that it’s good quality coffee and not the ‘cheap and nasty’ stuff I’ve had in so many places!
Following coffee, nature takes its course and I find I need the loo. As there are clear and easily readable signs, I don’t have to ask for help, I can just go without any fuss or attention. The accessible toilet is free from clutter, and there is plenty of room for Jarvis to turn and wait for me.
It’s time to go home, and I leave the church feeling that I have been among new friends, have been able to focus on worshipping God, and will definitely be back here again.
What a difference from last week!
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