Isaiah's voice in the wilderness was not addressing the desires of people who have disabilities to be full participants in their parishes and dioceses. But for a person using a wheelchair, a rack of steps to the door of the church may resemble a mountain. For a clergy person, the route to celebration at the altar may be exceedingly crooked. The person who cannot hear the gospel, or one who cannot see the words of the prayers, may feel less than comforted by his/her church. The Rev. Charles Fulton, president of the Episcopal Church Building Fund, describes the continuing effort to make church facilities accessible to all as "a quest." It is not an easy one.

Isaiah 40:4

Perception is often the first hurdle. "Why do we need (wheelchair-access, assistive-hearing devices, large-print prayer books)? No one in our congregation is (fill in the blank)." The facts that the excellent alto with the trick knee would join the choir but for the 25 steps to the loft, and the man with encroaching cataracts can rarely read any of the printed pages may not be obvious. The rector who loves to take communion down the steps from the high altar to nave level for less mobile parishioners may not realize how this dependency makes them feel. Worst of all, prospective visitors-newcomers-active members may feel that the mountains and crooked ways are meant to keep them out. The welcome mat is there only for the "abled" - those "like us."

Money, of course, is often an overwhelming obstacle. Congregations with the best will but less than monumental endowments may be unable to find $50,000 or more to install an elevator to a multi-level, century-old building.

Clergy accommodation is another aspect. More than one seminarian has been discouraged from seeking a pastoral position. An altar with the traditional "seven steps to God," at a height which makes a celebrant in a wheelchair behind it "look like the head of John the Baptist," does not present a career option.

The success stories have required persistence, creativity, and faith of many kinds. But they exist.

THE DIOCESE OF MASSACHUSETTS seems one of the few that lists accessibility information in its directory of parishes and missions. Ten years ago, said the Rev. Juliana Anderson, the vestry of St. Mark's Church, Foxborough, took on the question of handicapped access. The 39-year-old building needed more space, too, and the architect's design addressed both needs. It was a plan for "an unbelievably expensive building," she said. Finally, the vestry voted to scrap plans and start fresh. Parish members in design and contracting drew plans making accessibility the primary focus; the congregation concurred.

The building now has an elevator and ramps, pews shortened for wheelchair space, an amplification system. There is a ramp to the altar, and the single step is movable. George Morrison, contractor and former senior warden, said one challenge was to make the changes "blend in, not add on. We matched the bricks and the windows. You can't see the changes" even though the entry is around the corner from where it was and into a glassed area that previously wasn't there.

The cost, including an upgrade of the alarm system, suggested by the fire department, was $150,000 - "instead of $700,000," he said.

"We paid for it ourselves. We had no loans, even those we had previously lined up," said Ms. Anderson. "And we kept the traditional look."

The Rev. Kathryn Piccard is a priest in the Diocese of Massachusetts. She has a rare genetic disorder of the connective tissue that causes chronic pain, difficulty sitting or standing for long periods of time, and high incidence of migraine. "When I supply for a short service, it takes two or three days to recover," she said. Steps "are not impossible but I don't go to meetings above a certain level." Sometimes she uses a cane as "a theater prop," an easy symbol of a complicated problem.

She has conducted a weekly service at St. Anne's convent for 20 years. She functions as a resource and contact on disability issues, keeping track of the Church Pension Fund's policies and the attainment of accessibility goals in the diocese. Often, bishops respond to accidents and illness with prayer, but not financial advice, such as what forms to file with the pension fund. "The information may not be readily available," she said.

The committee on ministry to persons with disabilities in the Diocese of Dallas is conducting a survey of its parishes' ministry to persons with disabilities. Paul Bowser, in his first year as chair, said the committee hopes to identify a contact person in each parish. The completed survey will guide the committee in listing accessibility information for the diocesan directory, and perhaps in creating a web site locating accessible parking, entries and restrooms, listening devices and large-print literature, and availability of transportation.

THE INTERIM RECTOR OF CHURCH of the Ascension, Dallas, is the Rev. Helen Betenbaugh, whom a previous bishop termed "unemployable." While a student at Perkins School of Theology, a Methodist seminary with "lots of Anglican and closet Anglican professors and students," she had no diocesan support, she said. She was newly divorced, the mother of two teenage children, user of a wheelchair due to post-polio syndrome, being drawn into a new life. She graduated with honors. "It was God," she said. "No way a human could do this."

The bishop refused to ordain her. "Where would I send that? What parish would want that?" she recalls his asking. She was ordained deacon in 1996 by Bishop James Stanton, and priest in 1997.

At Ascension, where she was originally assistant for pastoral care, the altar is raised, but is accessible via four small ramps. And Ms. Betenbaugh said the church has "an altar built for me, that fits into a break in the rail. It's portable, table height, with its own case."

She has a well-developed theology of disability. "We fear 'others,' those who are different," she said. "We fear our own vulnerability. And we fear questions we ask God: Where were you? How did you let that happen?' God turned loose an awful lot when he created the world - not vengeance but chance. God weeps with us and works with us. He asks, 'What can we do with this? Can you do it?'" The priest used to be seen as "an icon, a prince of the church," she said. "In me people see a Good Friday body, and an Easter faith and life. That represents life in a more authentic vein."

"THE RT. REV. GEORGE Bates wanted every facility in the Diocese of Utah to be wheelchair and sensory accessible," said the Rev. Glen Gleaves. "No official function was to be held in an inaccessible place. He said the church needs to reach out before anyone else."

As a result of the policy, a large number of churches in the diocese are fully or partly accessible. Fr. Gleaves, the new chair of the Governor's Council for People with Disabilities, serves at St. Paul's, Salt Lake City, in a 400-pound electric wheelchair with its own cooling system, to allow him to wear "15 pounds of vestments" even though his chronic progressive multiple sclerosis has short-circuited his body's own temperature regulation. He frequently takes the contemporary service in the parish hall, but has an altar on wheels - "an altar for a movable feast" - which can be place in the crossing of the nave. "They don't cut me any slack in the rota for celebrating or preaching," he said. "I'm glad."

He also has experienced negative replies to applications. "At the one interview I had, after 60 applications, I heard the illegal response: 'We can't hire you because of your disability'."

His first cure in Utah, tiny St. Paul's, Vernal, built a temporary ramp when Fr. Gleaves began to use crutches. Later a new apse and narthex grew out of a commitment to accessibility. "Disabled people want empathy, not sympathy," he said. "I found God's grace, coming to Utah."

Christ Church Cathedral, Cincinnati, was closed for 16 months for major renovation. When the Rt. Rev. Herbert Thompson, Bishop of Southern Ohio, reopened the doors on April 19, many who had perhaps felt excluded by the complicated building found themselves much more welcome. Matt Sauer of the diocesan commission on accessibility wrote, "We have created a cathedral that is open to all." He listed the most obvious changes: an automatic door from the outside, floor surfaces that "maximize traction for those on wheels as well as on foot"; ramps with railings in the cathedral and the undercroft; a new elevator providing access to areas not available to the first machine; accessible restrooms and water fountains on all levels; Braille signage, large-print and Braille prayer books; "audio enhancements ... in the sanctuary and undercroft ... for those who experienced distortion from the regular sound system"; ramps integrated into the design of the sanctuary floor. A special feature is an area of rescue assistance in the undercroft, with a wall speaker connected to the fire department. The Rev. Canon Stephen Bolle said the total result is "a testimony to accessibility as an early factor driving the renovation."

PROBLEMS, PERCEPTIONS AND ATTITUDES REGARDING accessibility are complex and the opinions of those who have disabilities may be very different from what non-disabled persons expect. Wendy Sopkovich, parish administrator at St. Christopher's, River Hills, Wis., has worked through all sorts of struggles with patience, determination, and a lively sense of humor. She mentions a cathedral where "they said they took the ramps down for Easter." She appreciates, she said, that "people want to help. But we don't want to be told, 'You can watch us.' We want to be engaged." In other words, we don't want mountains moved; we just want a way to go up to enjoy the view. o