The Greater Things of Revolutionary Love

In 2013, I was a young mom with two boys, barely holding onto faith. My eldest (Bug) had just been diagnosed with autism. My youngest (K) had not yet received his diagnosis, but there were some clear markers we noticed with him as well. I was in a crisis of faith.

Why? Why did God make my lil’ Bug disabled? My sweet K, too? What did I do wrong? I clung to the promise of Jeremiah 29:11-13. If I cling to Him, He will make beauty from this. So even though it had been years since we set foot in a church, the Sunday following Bug’s autism diagnosis, we ventured out. I could never have predicted the way that attempt would go up in flames. We walked in, put our boys—ages two and three—in the nursery. We made it through one worship song before we were asked to leave. We were told we could come back without our children.

This is far too common. My story is similar to many I’ve heard before. The message to the disabled community is clear: You are not needed here. You are not welcome. And it’s not a message the church is trying to send. But frankly, the greater church isn’t trying not to send this message either. God used this experience to plant a seed in my heart. A dream—the idea of an inclusive church.

What we experienced was not biblical. It’s not the heart of God. Today, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt these people just needed education. That is why you are reading this. Church, we must do better. This is blatantly unacceptable. But the good news is, doing better is not that complicated. I know, because of God’s grace today, I am no longer lost, but I have a direct path for my life. I am a Special Needs Pastor. Although it may be a bit of an unusual calling in today’s world, it’s mine. I have been called to help the church become inclusive. We can do this together.

Photo credit: CDC.gov.

Photo credit: CDC.gov.

Did you know that 26% of people living in the United States have a disability? The church is more open to some disabilities than others. Statistically, however, we’re not very open at all. This is a huge mission field in our backyard. Here are some basic steps any church could take that would make a difference. By implementing these steps, you can open doors for your church to become more inclusive:

  1. Stop assuming disability is caused by a lack of faith. It’s ridiculous. But it happens a lot. If you just believed, God would heal you. We know for a fact that sometimes disability is part of God’s plan (Ex. 4:11-12, John 9:1-3, 2 Cor. 12:7-10). We know that God makes a place for the disabled (2 Samuel 9, Luke 14). I want to focus on Luke 14 for a minute. Jesus doesn’t instruct people to heal the disabled, He instructs His followers to welcome them in. Come as you are. I have a place for you. I have a plan for you. You have value as you are. That is the God we serve. You don’t need to be good enough to serve Him; you just have to be willing.

2. Create a space at your church for the disabled. It doesn’t need to be complicated, but go as big as God calls you. Create a quiet room. Purchase a bag and put noise canceling headphones, some fidgets, a picture schedule, and some coloring pages in it. Have a weighted blanket at your church. Talk about disability and mental illness from the pulpit. Remove stigma. Jesus came to bind up the brokenhearted. To set the captives free. To bring good news to the poor. Then He told us to do the same. Matthew 28:19-20 was a clear directive to speak to all nations, to share with everyone. If Jesus did not avoid the disabled in His ministry, we can’t either.

These ministries can get much more in-depth. You could reach the point where you provide respite for families who never get a break. You could run a small group specifically for disabled people. There’s so many options, but start small. Start with love and inclusion.

3. Create a church culture of compassion and celebration. We are all gifted (Ephesians 2:10). Each and every person on Earth is made in the image of God. Each person is an image bearer. We must create a space for people with mental, physical, intellectual, and developmental disabilities in our church. Otherwise, the body will never be complete. We need each other (1 Corinthians 12).

I implore you to remember that disabled people have a tribe. They have a group of people surrounding them. When you reach out to the disabled, you’ll reach their family and friends as well. Reach out with a love that is unencumbered by social stigma and intent on reflecting Christ. Their families will respond. Their lives will be changed. The church will be changed.

We can do better. Jesus said we would do the work He had been doing and greater. Wouldn’t you imagine that goes so much deeper than healing the sick or casting out demons? What if what God has for us is also revolutionary love?

When I look at Jesus, I see revolutionary love. He had a love that changed people. A love that looked past physical appearance and into the heart. A love that empowered the broken. A love that celebrated the outcast. A love that changed the world. Jesus lived a culture of love and inclusion. He saw people, not problems.

What if that is what God has next for us? I propose that this is at least a part of the greater things to which we are called. We are meant to venture toward that which makes us uncomfortable. Yet, I think it’s fair to say the greater church has been unwilling to be uncomfortable. This begs a question: What if this fear of discomfort is making the church dull?

This world is a mess. We cannot afford for the church to be dull. The Bible tells us iron sharpens iron. From experience, I can tell you the disabled population will sharpen you. It will strengthen your church, and you will do the same for them. The question is, is there a place for them at your banquet?

Joanna French is the special needs pastor at Flint Hills Church, Junction City, KS. Joanna and her husband Jairmie have two boys with autism. In 2017, Joanna started Flint Hills Embrace, with the goal to make Flint Hills Church a place where everyone belongs. Why? Because we all have a place in God's plan.