Sunday mornings are meant to feel like home. A place where families walk in without fear of judgment. A place where children are welcomed, not merely tolerated. A place where every person — regardless of ability, personality, or difference — know they belong. And yet, for many autistic individuals and their families, Church can feel anything but welcoming. Not because people are unkind. Not because faith isn’t important to them. But because the environment itself quietly says, “You don’t fit here.” That’s why for autism, inclusion in Churches matters so deeply.
Autistic individuals are already in our congregations
When we talk about inclusion, we sometimes speak as if we’re preparing for someone new to arrive. But autistic individuals aren’t outsiders waiting to be invited in. They’re already in Church. They’re the child who covers their ears during worship, the teen who struggles with small talk at youth group, the adult who sits alone because the service feeling overwhelming , the parent who stops attending because their child keeps getting stared at. Inclusion isn’t about adding people – It’s about removing the barriers that keep the people we already love from fully participating.
Church environments can be unintentionally overwhelming
Many church spaces are sensory heavy. Bright lights. Loud music. Crowded lobbies.
Unpredictable schedules. Pressure to socialize. For someone with sensory sensitivities or social processing differences, this isn’t just uncomfortable — it can be exhausting or even painful.
Imagine trying to focus on prayer while speakers feel like they’re vibrating through your body. Imagine wanting community but feeling drained after every conversation. Imagine loving God but dreading the building. When autistic people stop coming, it’s often not a lack of faith. It’s lack of accessibility.
Inclusion reflects the heart of faith .The message of the Bible consistently points toward welcome – toward making space at the table, toward recognising that every person carries essential worth. If church is meant to express love, then accessibility isn’t optional — it’s essential. Because we can’t truly welcome someone into community if the environment makes it impossible for them to stay.
Autistic people aren’t problems to fix — they’re gifts to receive
Too often, inclusion conversations focus only on accommodations. But autistic individuals don’t just need support — they bring strengths – honesty, deep focus, thoughtful question, strong empathy, a powerful sense of justice, creative and unique ways of seeing the world. These gifts enrich a church community. When autistic voices are missing, the whole body loses something. Inclusion isn’t charity. It’s recognising that we need each other.
What inclusion can look like
The good news? Inclusion doesn’t require massive changes. Often, reasonable adjustments make a big difference – providing a quiet or low-sensory space, lowering volume or offering ear defenders, sharing clear schedules and expectations, using visual supports for kids , allowing movement or stimming without judgment ,training volunteers about neurodiversity, listening to families and autistic adults about their needs These steps say something powerful: They don’t have to change who they are to belong.
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Church should never be a place people have to “mask” or hide themselves to be accepted. It should be a place where differences are seen as part of God’s design — not disruptions to manage. Autism inclusion matters because people matter, families matter, love looks like action. I will end by saying that everyone deserves to walk through the doors of a church and feel, without question: This place is for me.