by Rev. Emily D. Sutphin
I am an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., but when I go to work on Monday, there is no beautiful gothic cathedral, rows of empty pews, or the muted smell of yesterday’s incense waiting to greet me. Instead, my Mondays might begin in the back of a bustling kitchen or a preschool. On Tuesday, I may be at a convenience store or hospital cafeteria. But in these spaces too, God is present, and I am witnessing new life!
I am working as an employment specialist, also known as a job coach, for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities (I use person-first language here, though preferences vary). I help our clients find competitive and meaningful employment that aligns with their interests and career goals. Most-if not all-presbyteries, synods, and councils would not consider job coaching to be a validated ministry. However, this role is helping me become a better pastor and has encouraged me to think more critically about inclusion within the Church universal.
As someone with an invisible disability, I have always tried to separate my disability from my ministry, as if it were some dirty secret that must be kept hidden. But there is beauty in our differing abilities. My clients have taught me new ways of communicating, challenged my former definition of success, and broadened my understanding of what pastoral ministry means in today’s world, especially with those on the margins. It is not enough to simply preach about loving our neighbors, we also have to do it, even if it means teaching a person with autism how best to pick manure out of a horse’s hoof.
Congregations often pride themselves on being loving and welcoming to everyone, but churches are often not accessible to people with disabilities; even though, according to the Center of Disease Control, more than 1 in every 4 adults in the United States have some kind of disability. The building itself might not be accessible, the audio might be too soft for a person with a hearing disability or too loud for a person with sound sensitivity, or the pews may feel too unyielding for a person with a spinal difference or too constraining for a person whose body craves movement.
Other times, barriers to inclusive worship are less obvious. A mother might be afraid to bring her young child who is on the autistic spectrum to worship because she worries that she will be unwelcome if her child has a meltdown during the service. A person with epilepsy may be worried that there is not a safe space for them to go if they feel a seizure starting. A person with Down syndrome might love coming to worship but feels left out when they are never asked to participate in worship leadership.
Diversity expert Verna Myers once said, “Diversity is being invited to the party; inclusion is being asked to dance.” Are we, pastors and church leaders, making the dance floor accessible? And, are we inviting everyone to dance when they come to worship?
The body of Christ is incomplete when it does not include people with disabilities. In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, chapter 12, he declares: “Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many…as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as [she] chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members yet one body” (1 Corinthians 12:14-20). All people, including people with disabilities, are essential for the functioning of the body of Christ. Without the full inclusion of all her members, the Church is not complete. (Please note that Paul’s metaphor is a metaphor, and, as such, has limitations. A human body is not incomplete because it lacks fingers, toes, or other members.)
One day, I was working alongside a client stocking shelves at a Dollar General when, out of nowhere, they turned to me and said, “Ms. Emily, remember you are never too old to rock!” I have another client who, after completing their first interview ever, declared to me, “I am so proud of myself!” Outside of their jobs, my clients express themselves through drawing pictures, animating characters, building pinball machines out of cardboard, making bracelets, and so many more forms of art. We need these people in our churches! People who remind us to rock, to be proud of ourselves for trying new things, and to find joy in creating.
How do we help our churches and congregations better reflect the body of Christ? We make our churches and congregations more inclusive through education, conversation, and creativity. Education is essential for inclusion, and it begins with you. Tend to your own formation. Listen deeply to the lived experiences of people with disabilities from memoirs, personal narratives, and other firsthand accounts. Allow these voices to shape you, not aloof diagnostic manuals or political driven “science.” Let this move you beyond a mindset of providing accommodations, which too often treats disability as a problem to be managed, into the harder, holier work of transforming the very systems and structures that have excluded God’s people for far too long.
And, then, once you educate yourself, educate your congregation. Use your Sunday School classrooms, Bible studies, and pulpit to name and challenge ableism and advocate for a more inclusive vision of belonging in the body of Christ. Extend invitations to people with disabilities to participate, lead, and share their stories. Do so with care. Do not ask anyone to speak on behalf of all people with disabilities, for that is an impossible ask. Each person’s story is unique, each voice a gift to the Church.
Have conversations…with everyone! Talk to your congregation members about what they need, parents who have children with disabilities, and your colleagues in ministry who have had success in creating an inclusive worship environment. You might consider talking to local organizations committed to empowering and supporting individuals with disabilities. Talk to employment specialists and job coaches and become partners in their inclusivity work, maybe even see if your church can be a volunteer or work assessment site. The agency I work for has a list of many local businesses and larger companies that we partner with to help our individuals find employment. There is only one church on it. I wish I could go knocking door-to-door to every church in the region and tell them about how I have wonderful, dedicated children of God who would love to come in.
Finally, be creative! In an ideal world, we would all be able to install elevators, build safe sensory rooms, and purchase special audio equipment for our sanctuaries. However, tearing down the walls and starting over is not an option for many churches. So, be creative! Consider putting rocking chairs somewhere in your sanctuary for people who crave movement. Have a basket where individuals can borrow fidget toys. Offer a small and large print bulletin. Invite all people to participate in worship leadership.
It is not always easy, but inclusion is essential for becoming the body of Christ on earth. St. Teresa of Avila once said, “Christ has no body but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours.”
Christ has no body on earth unless it is an inclusive one,
One where old, young, trembling, and scarred hands are welcome.
Where all feet, crutches, wheelchairs, and mobility devices are invited through the doors.
One where loud, soft, stuttering, and nonverbal voices are uplifted in song and pulpit.
This all-welcoming, all-embracing church is the body of Christ.
These are the feet, hands, and voices with which Christ moves in our midst.
The body of Christ does not consist of one member, but many.
We are the many.
We are the body.
The diverse, beautiful, dancing body of Christ.
Thanks be to God!
Rev. Emily D. Sutphin is an ordained Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., currently working as an employment specialist (also known as a job coach) working with adults with intellectual disabilities. She graduated from Princeton Theological Seminary in 2023, and since then has been on a journey of vocational discernment and celebration.
