I was drawn to the life of the Church for as long as I can remember. At the age of fourteen, I moved out of my hometown to enrol in a theological high school in the city of Tȃrgovişte. My passion for theology then took me to Bucharest, where I completed my Bachelor degree and further on obtained my Masters.

When I went to Aberdeen to study for my PhD, I wanted to know all about the Church, to hear all the voices and perspectives that were available out there. What I discovered was that no matter how one reads Scripture or the Tradition of the Church, whether from Orthodox, Catholic or Protestant background, the Church is first of all a community of belonging whose goal is to bring everyone in unity with Christ. Maximus the Confessor puts it best when he says that the Church resembles God when it unites “the numerous and of almost infinite number” of “men, women, and children who are distinct from one another and vastly different by birth and appearance, by nationality and language, by customs and age, by opinions and skills, by manners and habits, by pursuits and studies, and still again by reputation, fortune, characteristics, and connections: All are born into the Church and through it are reborn and recreated in the Spirit.”

What I did not realise until I encountered the theologies of Brian Brock and John Swinton was that when Maximus says all humans he actually means all: those with depression, those whose drool, those who cannot stand still or who would need a mobility device, those who are negatively stimulated by sounds, those whose atypical bodies make us feel uncomfortable. Without them, the Church is not fulfilling its goal, it becomes smaller and less transparent to the light of Christ’s presence.

Gregory of Nazianzen makes this point even starker when he points the finger at the Christians who avoided the lepers out of fear of contagion. Christians, Gregory says, do not have any qualms in accepting in their communities “those who handle ripe and, it may be, fetid corpses and haul the stinking carcasses of dumb animals and have no objections to being covered with muck” but they do seem to be repulsed by lepers. The Church cannot make such distinctions, the Church should care and include.

My mission is to help responsible church leaders and communities to establish and deepen inclusive practices that will allow the beauty of Christ’s love for humanity to shine through the Church unhindered.  I work with church leaders, theological educators, and communities who want to move beyond surface-level inclusion toward genuine belonging. I help identify the barriers—often invisible—that exclude disabled people from full participation in worship, leadership, and community life. Through theological reflection, practical tools, and tailored guidance, I support communities in developing practices that reflect the fullness of Christ’s body. The result is a more faithful, hospitable, and spiritually vibrant community—where no one is left at the margins, and the love of Christ shines without obstruction.