Photo by Raj Tuladhar on Unsplash
Photo by Raj Tuladhar on Unsplash
My wife and I have started looking into working with Karis Host Family. The process has led me to think about adoption—not necessarily the legal kind, but the Biblical kind: the idea that God has adopted me (and you) into a spiritual family.
Theologian J.I. Packer, in his book Knowing God, wrote that the doctrine of adoption “is the highest privilege the gospel offers: higher even than justification.” [1] To the early church, adoption was the central message of the Gospel.
The Gospel is God adopting those who He made in His image into His family, by grace, through faith.
“Adoption is God’s initiative—it’s not about us qualifying or proving ourselves.”
In Ephesians 1:5 (NLT), the Apostle Paul writes, “God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure.” In other words, Paul is saying that adoption is God’s initiative—it’s not about us qualifying or proving ourselves. It’s done through Jesus. And it brings God joy.
In Roman culture at the time The Apostle Paul was writing, adoption wasn’t just for orphans. It was a legal transaction to give someone full status into one’s family—even adults. Once adopted, you weren’t second-tier; you had the same rights, the same inheritance, and the same family name as a biological child. So, when Paul uses the word adopt, he’s emphasizing that in Christ, we’ve been brought into God’s family fully—not partially, not “as long as I still like you,” not as guests, but as full children of God.
“…being adopted into God’s family means there’s a place, already set, for all His children, at His table.”
God’s idea of adoption should change everything about how we see ourselves—but maybe more importantly, how we see everyone else. If adoption really is the highest privilege of the Gospel, then it must shape how we understand church, community, and belonging—especially when it comes to people with disabilities.
Adoption says that we are not defined by what we can do, how we look, or whether we meet the world’s standards. We are defined by the One who calls us His child. Disability theology reminds us that every person bears the image of God (Genesis 1:27). And that image doesn’t fade or disappear when someone doesn’t meet the world’s expectations of “ability.” Simply put, being adopted into God’s family means there’s a place, already set, for all His children, at His table.
If God’s family is a family of many parts—all with adoption in common—then shouldn’t our churches reflect this type of family?
The Body of Christ is incomplete without everyone.
“When people with disabilities are missing from the life of the church—not just present, but participating, leading, shaping—it’s not just a loss for them. It’s a loss for all of us.”
In 1 Corinthians 12, the Apostle Paul, describes the church as one body made up of many parts. Each part is needed. No one is extra. No one is replaceable. When people with disabilities are missing from the life of the church—not just present, but participating, leading, shaping—it’s not just a loss for them. It’s a loss for all of us, because we’re missing someone—we’re missing our sibling.
None of us joined God’s family on our own merit. We were each adopted, and because of that we each belong.
Our churches should reflect the whole adopted family of God.
Not just accessibility.
Not just inclusion.
But belonging.
That’s the kind of church—that’s the kind of church family—I want to be part of.
More by:
Bryan Gillmore
About the Author:
About the Author:
Bryan Gillmore works with Karis Disability Services as an Organizational and Spiritual Life Specialist. He’s a former Executive Director and family pastor, and lives in Guelph, ON with his wife, kids, and their family dog.
Bryan Gillmore works with Karis Disability Services as an Organizational and Spiritual Life Specialist. He’s a former Executive Director and family pastor, and lives in Guelph, ON with his wife, kids, and their family dog.
