More Than ‘Seeker-Friendly’: When People with Disabilities Belong in the Local Church

As a lifelong pew-sitter in the Baptist Church, I grew up hearing an evangelistic message nearly every Sunday. Church wasn’t church without an altar call at the end of the service. I can’t say for sure whether my rebel spark or my INFJ self kept me in my seat but I refused to ‘walk the aisle.’ I never wanted to confess my sins to a preacher when he (and pulpit dwellers were always ‘he’) never publicly admitted his nor did I find value in exposing my deeply personal journey for public consumption. I refused to surrender to emotional manipulation, especially from men on stage. 

So you might be surprised to learn that on a recent Sunday, I quietly crept out of a certain non-denominational row, whispered an ‘excuse me” to those on my right, and took a few determined steps down the aisle. This time, I did not feel coerced but was responding to an invitation extended to those of us raising kids with different abilities. In the presence of a caring pastor and community, we were given space to acknowledge our unique need for support and prayer. 

As the voices in front of and around us sang of God’s faithfulness through the valleys, I stood next to Glendon at the front of our church and bowed my weary head, grateful for this public act of inclusion and for the prayers being offered for us. 

Minutes later, a woman shared with me a verse that she spoke over our family during that time: “He has equipped you for every good work.” I had never considered those words in the context of raising children (with or without disabilities) and no one had ever so humbly shared them with me.  She continued, “What you’re doing is GOOD WORK, Katie and we’re here for you.” I still struggle to articulate what that meant to me.

This kind woman took her encouragement beyond the New Testament, past the oft empty platitude of ‘thoughts and prayers,’ and right into action. As our time together concluded, she wanted to know the specific needs of our family and how she and her family could be a part of meeting them. We exchanged numbers and she requested that I call her for any babysitting requests in the future. I fully intend to.

For all the ways the American Church is failing to look like Jesus these days, I want to remember that Sunday. I want to celebrate the way our local church reflects the humble One who came to serve all people. I have the privilege of being part of a thoughtful community fully committed to love those who are often avoided, ignored, or sent to another room as a nuisance to be tolerated until the Sunday hour ends. 

Within our church, Sam–and we–are welcomed, encouraged, befriended, and offered tangible support. People with disabilities–and their families–are not only included in weekly gatherings but they are seen as whole persons, worthy to be part of the local body of Christ in both the building and the budget. 

When referencing disability and the (able-bodied, adequately resourced) local church, I have a few thoughts, born from years of personal experience and the experiences of many who navigate life with a disability:

• If a church community prides itself as ‘seeker friendly’ but refuses to consider the accessibility of their entrance, the available seating in their building, the excessive volume of their music, or the intensity of the jumbo screen graphics, then the leadership needs to rethink their self-described label. 
• If a church community claims that ‘all people are made in the image of God,’ but uses rhetoric that isolates people with disabilities or plans activities that make it impossible or exceptionally difficult for those with disabilities to participate, then the leadership needs to rethink the validity of their claim. 
• If a church community states that part of their mission is to ‘make disciples of all people,’ but does not faithfully engage with people who have disabilities, then the leadership needs to rethink the specifics of their mission and who it actually includes. 
• If a church community seeks to ensure that all members discover their gifts but there is no member with a disability serving in any capacity or rarely seen on stage/up front, then the leadership needs to rethink its core values.
• If a church community seeks to practice the radical inclusion of Jesus, then people with disabilities will have a place at the proverbial table where they can ask questions, connect with church leadership, publicly serve, and be a part of the major decisions that affect their local body.
• If a church community touts itself as ‘diverse,’ but there is no visual representation of people with disabilities, then the leadership will be humble enough to ask at their meetings, “Who is missing from this space? What voices are we ignoring (and why)? What specifically will we do to change that?” (And maybe repent of their ableist ways?)

My local church has never claimed to be perfect but I’ve learned that the leadership staff care deeply, lead with humility, and remain attentive to the needs and gifts of those with disabilities. I am grateful to be part of a community where families like mine are supported, offered free and well-organized child care once a month (for all of our kiddos!), where we find solidarity with other families, and where Sam is consistently welcomed with smiles, high fives, and a buddy eager to help him navigate his peer group.

(Special shout out to Andy, Joanna, Alison, Mackenzie, Heather, Jamie, Larry, Johnny, and all the respite night volunteers. We love you guys!) 

In my gratitude, I also grieve that many churches do not consider people with disabilities. Churches lack resources (or use their resources in other ways), willing leadership, and the commitment to not only support families affected by disability but to consider people with disabilities as equal in value, rather than humans to be pitied, tolerated, or avoided. When challenged by members with specific needs, I have witnessed church leaders resist the hard questions in an apparent effort to avoid the discomfort that precedes any major narrative shift.

I also realize that many churches are willing to rethink their mission as it relates to those with disabilities but feel limited in both knowledge and resources. While I don’t pretend to have all the answers, I do know a few organizations who’ve been advocating for disability inclusion for years. If you would like to learn more, here are two places to start: 

https://whydisabilitymatters.org/small-churches-disability-ministry-podcast/

https://www.joniandfriends.org/ministries/church-training-resources/

May we who are part of the local body of Christ thoughtfully consider the unique needs of our members and guests who are affected by disability. 

May we be willing to ask the hard questions, rethink our mission, and respond in a way that leads to shifts in perspective and deep change. 

May we reflect the humble way of Jesus, who welcomed the social outcasts, the ones deemed ‘weak’ by the religious and political elite, and may we may join together in breaking the bread and drinking the cup.

May we, like my beautiful church community, treat those with disabilities as Divine image bearers, whole humans, and equal in value with a vital role to play in God’s Kingdom work.   

I close with the song that was sung at the end of that memorable Sunday gathering. I hope you’re encouraged by it.