Disability Theology and it’s Promise for our Church

Disability theology begins with a simple but transformative conviction: every body bears the image of God. Not just the bodies that move easily, communicate typically, or fit our inherited assumptions about ability. All bodies—fragile, complex, disabled, chronically ill, neurodivergent, aging—are places where God’s presence dwells. When the church takes this seriously, it reshapes not only how we welcome people with disabilities but how we understand God, community, and the gospel.

This past summer, the General Synod of the Anglican Church of Canada passed a resolution encouraging the study of inclusion and ability across our church, drawing from the ten tenets of disability theology inspired by Nancy Eiesland’s seminal book, The Disabled God. These tenets affirm the inherent value of all people, reject the harmful linking of disability with sin, highlight Jesus’ ministry of radical inclusion, and call the church to offer genuine hospitality and inclusion.

If you followed the Synod discussion, you may have noticed how strongly the Diocese of Niagara was represented. Jodey Porter, a lay delegate from St. Mark’s, Niagara‑on‑the‑Lake, offered a compelling presentation. The resolution itself was moved by Bishop Susan Bell and seconded by Archdeacon Bill Mous. None of this was accidental. At Jodey Porter’s prompting, and after consulting with trusted theological advisors, Bishop Susan gathered a small group of leaders in our diocese to study disability theology and begin the work of discerning what it has to teach us across our diocese.

For our church, disability theology is not an optional niche topic. It is central to our identity as a community committed to justice, compassion, and radical belonging. Our diocese has long affirmed that the church is strongest when every member can participate fully in its life. Disability theology gives us the language, imagination, and courage to make that vision real.

At its heart, disability theology challenges the assumption that disability is a problem to be solved. Instead, it invites us to see disability as part of the diversity of creation—something that can reveal God’s character in ways that able-bodied experience alone cannot. Scripture is full of stories where God works through bodies that do not conform to cultural expectations: Moses with his speech difficulty, Jacob who limps after wrestling with God, Paul who speaks of a “thorn in the flesh,” and Jesus himself, whose resurrected body still bears wounds. These stories remind us that limitation is not a barrier to God’s work but often the very place where grace becomes visible.

This theological lens matters for us because it reframes our mission. If every body belongs, then accessibility is not merely a legal requirement or a gesture of hospitality—it is a spiritual practice. It becomes part of how we proclaim the gospel. Ramps, large‑print bulletins, sensory-friendly services, flexible liturgies, and inclusive leadership are not “accommodations” for a few; they are signs of the kingdom for all. They testify that the church is a place where people are valued not for what they can do but for who they are.

Disability theology also helps us confront the subtle ways exclusion persists in church life. Many people with disabilities have experienced churches as places of pity, charity, or invisibility rather than belonging. By engaging disability theology, our diocese commits to listening to the voices of people with disabilities, learning from their wisdom, and reshaping our practices accordingly. This is not about “helping” people with disabilities; it is about recognizing them as teachers, leaders, and co-creators of our common life.

In a time when loneliness and social isolation are rising across Canada, disability theology offers our diocese a path toward deeper community. People with disabilities often understand interdependence more clearly than the rest of us. Their experiences challenge the myth of self-sufficiency and remind the church that we are called to be a body where each member needs the others. This is not weakness—it is discipleship.

Finally, disability theology aligns with our diocese’s long-standing commitment to justice. Ableism—like racism, sexism, and other forms of oppression—diminishes human dignity. By naming and resisting ableism, we participate in God’s work of liberation. We help create communities where people are not defined by deficits but celebrated as bearers of gifts.

Bishop Susan also reminds us that disability touches us all. “Disability and vulnerability are not exceptions to the human experience; they are part of it. Some of us live with disability from birth, others encounter it through illness, aging, or changing circumstances. In all cases, the church is called to be a community of open arms, where inclusion is not conditional but foundational.”  God’s love is made known in every body, including our own.

In embracing disability theology, we are not simply adding another program. We are reclaiming a truth at the heart of the gospel: that God’s love is made known in every body, and that the church becomes more fully itself when all people can belong, contribute, and flourish.

I am privileged to serve as the chair of the Bishop’s Study Group on Disability Theology as we embark on a project of listening to the stories of parishes, disabled and non-disabled persons, and their experiences of disability, inclusion, and belonging. We will begin these conversations in several parishes in the coming months. In the meantime, if you have a story to share, I would be honoured to hear from you.