Misunderstanding3: People with Disabilities Cannot Communicate with People without Disabilities
This article is part of a series that addresses common misunderstandings about disability within the church. Each week, we examine one misunderstanding and reflect on it from biblical, theological, and pastoral perspectives. The goal is to seek ways for believers with disabilities and believers without disabilities to build a healthy church of the Lord together. In the previous article, we explored the misunderstanding that “disability is a punishment for sin” and “people with disabilities are objects of pity not partners.”
When sharing life with congregants who have disabilities, many people quickly conclude that communication is impossible if speech is not clear or if responses are slow. Whether it is a member with a developmental disability, a young adult on the autism spectrum, a deacon with slow speech due to cerebral palsy, or a believer who communicates through American Sign Language (ASL) and lip-reading—their “relational capacity” is often unfairly judged by their linguistic "fluency."
This perspective reduces a person’s faith and character to their verbal output. In this article, we will critique the myth that "people with disabilities cannot communicate" from a biblical perspective and explore how the Church can become truly inclusive by embracing diverse modes of communication. Genesis declares that God created every human being in his own image. This “image” inherently includes the capacity for relationship. Relational ability is not a merit badge earned through high IQ or eloquent speech; it is a gift from God woven into the very fabric of human existence.
Our triune God is a God of relationship. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit exist in eternal communion and have called humanity to live within that same circle of relationship with God and neighbor. Our relational identity is not determined by how fluently we speak, but by whose image we bear.
The limitations we perceive in others are rarely limitations for God. In Exodus 4, Moses hesitates to accept God’s calling, citing his “slow speech and tongue.” God’s response is definitive: “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say” (Exod. 4:11–12, NIV). God called Moses regardless of his verbal ability and promised his presence. God works with the same intentionality in the lives of those who have hearing, speech, visual, or intellectual disability. This scripture challenges any view that defines communication solely by human vocal performance.
Jesus’ ministry reveals a profound range of communication methods. In Mark 7, when Jesus meets a man who is deaf and has a speech impediment, he does not simply shout a command. He uses touch, gestures, and even sigh: “After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spit and touched the man’s tongue. He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, ‘Ephphatha!’” (Mark 7:33–34, NIV). While the text doesn't explain the mechanics, we see Jesus meeting the man where he was. He used a “language” the man could perceive—physical touch and visual cues—restoring not just his hearing, but his connection to the community.
The history of the Church is a history of expanding communication. Before the Reformation, the Mass and Scripture readings were held in Latin, which was unintelligible to most laypeople. The Church eventually realized that spoken words alone were insufficient. This led to the development of visual Theology—stained glass, icons, murals, and sculptures. One Church Father noted that while writing brings the Gospel to those who can read, images serve as the “books of the illiterate.” The Church has always had to innovate to ensure the gospel remains accessible across different cognitive and linguistic abilities. Today, we must continue this legacy by opening the gospel to those with diverse sensory and cognitive processing styles.
In reality, congregants with disabilities are often treated as if they are incapable of communication. If a member with a developmental disability vocalizes loudly during a sermon, they are often quickly ushered to a separate room, severing the experience of communal worship. In small groups, those who cannot provide instant answers are often bypassed, as if they have nothing to contribute. The core of the problem is not a lack of communication ability on their part, but a lack of willingness on our part to learn their language.
This is similar to the experience of first-generation immigrants in America. Though they may lack English fluency, they express deep needs and emotions through “broken” English, gestures, and facial expressions. If someone mimes drinking from a cup, we understand they are thirsty. When there is a will to understand, communication has already begun. The phrase “we can't communicate” is often a confession of the listener’s impatience rather than the speaker’s inability.
I experienced this firsthand. As someone with a physical disability, I thought I understood disability ministry. Then I met Mark, a young man with Down syndrome. Mark didn't use clear sentences; instead, he made sounds I didn’t understand and would suddenly jump and cheer during worship.
Initially, I was frustrated and confused. But through our relationship, I realized Mark had a unique and consistent language for expressing joy, desire, and need. His parents already knew this language. The limitation wasn’t Mark’s; it was mine. I was judging “the possibility of communication” solely by my own narrow standards.
I believe God understands Mark perfectly. His shouts, his groans, his rhythmic jumping, and his sudden laughter are his prayers, a language of joy and longing. God does not miss a single syllable of that expression. If God planned Mark’s existence and his way of being from the womb, who am I to call him incapable?
To change this, we must broaden our definition of communication. Tears shed during a hymn, a slight sway of the body, a loud laughter or scream, or a silent, attentive gaze are all expressions of faith.
Practical steps for the Church include:
Visual Supports: Using symbols, images, and simplified sermon outlines.
Technology: Providing ASL interpretation, closed captioning, and AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) tools.
Liturgical Variety: Using repetitive responses and physical movements that allow everyone to participate.
Sanctified Patience: In small groups, we must resist the urge to "finish the sentence" for someone with slow speech. We must learn to sit in the silence and wait for their expression to be completed.
The misconception that “people with disabilities cannot communicate” distorts the truth that God created us as relational beings. God has called people of various bodies, languages, and speeds into one body of Jesus. When the Church accepts and applies this, our brothers and sisters with disabilities are no longer outsiders to be accommodated; they become our teachers. They teach us what true communication looks like, a connection that transcends words and rests in the shared presence of the Holy Spirit.