Encore: The Autistic Image of God

This post originally appeared on the Mission of Saint Thorlak website in 2019, but serves as a very good capstone on Autism Awareness Month, particularly as it so eloquently describes our vision for the Autism Consecrated community. – Aimee 

Towards a Spirituality of Autistic Life

by Father Mark P. Nolette

The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. By the Lord has this been done; it is wonderful in our eyes. – Psalm 118:22-23

A thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”  I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. – 2 Corinthians 12:7-9

Consider your own calling, brothers and sisters. Not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. Rather, God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong, and God chose the lowly and despised of the world, those who count for nothing, to reduce to nothing those who are something, so that no human being might boast before God. – 1 Corinthians 1: 26-29

What does it mean to be Catholic and autistic? How can autistic people encounter the Lord in their lives? What do autistic Catholics offer to the rest of the Church, to the entire Body of Christ? How does an autistic person exist in the image and likeness of God?  Can God have an autistic face?  If so, what might such a face look like?

First of all, let us recall that autistic people remain human beings. Autistic people are also sinners in need of redemption.  We need the grace, reconciliation and salvation that is found in Christ through His Church.  We need to be incorporated into the very life of the Triune God.  We need the Church. We need the Sacraments.  We need prayer.  We need the example and the inspiration of the saints, both past and present. We need to live lives of committed, faithful, just and persevering love.  In all these ways, we are the same as all other people.

Yet, we are not quite the same.  We are on the autism spectrum.  For some of us, it may be more obvious than for others. Nevertheless, for all of us on the spectrum, autism is a reality that permeates every aspect of our lives.  Autism is a way of being in the world, or perceiving the world, and of responding to the world that makes us “different”. Not better or worse; simply different. We would then expect that our life of faith – the way that we as autistic people encounter God and respond to God – will be at least somewhat different than that of others because of our autism.  Not different in the sense that we experience things that no one else experiences at all. Different in the sense that certain experiences that are present in the lives of most people – at least to a limited extent – are far more prominent in our lives because we are autistic.

Think of these examples. Everyone deals with other people, but only certain people are very social and choose a calling that requires such a social nature.  Everyone is alone – or needs to be alone – now and then, but only certain people choose to live alone as something essential to their calling.  It is the same with us as autistic people when we see ourselves in the midst of humanity as a whole.

What does it mean to be autistic? If we look to the DSM-5 under “Autism Spectrum Disorder “ (note the term ‘disorder’), we will find a description of various characteristics.  Intense special interests. A strong sense of being apart from others. A love of routine and of ritualized behavior, and a hatred of change. Difficulties with empathy.  And so on.

Note that all of these characteristics are considered abnormal and therefore pathological. They are seen as weaknesses, as expressions of a disturbance or disorder, as symptoms that something is not right with us.  To be different from the vast majority of other people makes us somehow disordered, pathological, psychologically unwell. That’s the unspoken implication of the way that all the behaviors that set us apart as autistic are described.

Now, it is possible that any or all of these behaviors could become pathological. This can happen if we do not know or accept that we are autistic, and do not understand why we do what we do or respond as we do.  This can happen if others have somehow abused us or taken advantage of us.  This can happen if we find ourselves in a life situation that is simply too much for us as autistic people. But – and this is a BIG but – autistic behaviors need not be pathological. As Tony Attwood noted in his book on Asperger’s Syndrome, if you leave an autistic person alone – or pair that person with someone who shares one of his/her intense interests – there is no sign of pathology at all. None of our autistic behaviors need be pathological or bad or destructive. In fact, it is my contention that every one of them can become a way for us to encounter the Lord, and for others to encounter the Lord in us.  Yes, that which has marked us off as unlike others, or inferior to others, can become the cornerstone on which the Lord builds His grace in our lives.

Accordingly, I will now explore several experiences or behaviors that are characteristic of us as autistic people, and show how each one has a definite parallel in the story of God’s relationship to His People throughout the Scriptures and the history of the Church.  This will help us, as autistic people, to reframe these experiences and behaviors as encounters with God, and it will help those who are not autistic to see how autistic people, by their very presence in the Church, are reminders to the whole People of God of some fundamental truths about God and about what it means to belong to God in His Church.

1) The Experience of Otherness

We autistic people – even before we know ourselves as autistic – experience ourselves as ‘other’, as different in some definite but almost inexpressible way from other people. There is often a profound sense of being disconnected from other people.  We may want to connect with others or fit in now and then, but may have no clue how to do so.  Looking at other people, we may feel like anthropologists studying some newly-discovered primitive tribe. (What are they doing? Why are they doing that?) Usually, we are content to be alone, even though we value our friends and want to be with them from time to time.  Even among friends, however, we feel ‘other’; we feel different.  Others tell us that we are different, and that is rarely said as a compliment. We feel misunderstood, isolated, alone.  If we do not understand what this sense of ‘otherness’ can point to in a positive sense, we will end up seeing it as a negative reflection on ourselves.  We then feel hopelessly flawed, or hopelessly unseen.

Can we find an experience of otherness in our Catholic tradition? Definitely! From the very beginning, God is called holy. We usually associate holiness with great goodness, but that was not the original meaning of ‘holy’. ‘Holy’ meant ‘other’.  “I am God and not man, the Holy One in your midst.” God was seen as the Radically Other.  God was not like anything else we could know in our world.   God is Other.  If God is holy in the sense of being Other, then His People must also be Holy. They must be Other.  They cannot be like the nations that are all around.  Here is where the sense of holiness as goodness enters the picture.  We are Other as God’s people.  Therefore, we cannot live like everyone else. No, we must live according to God’s ways.  This sense of God as Holy, as Other, and the sense of God’s People as also Holy and Other, is found in both Old and New Testaments.

In this light, we can say that one important reason why we as autistic people, because of our unusual sensitivities, feel like we are ‘other’ is because we have an unconscious sense of the presence of God who is Other. Moreover, our presence among the people of God is meant to remind them that they, too, must be ‘other’. They cannot live like everyone else does.  They belong to God, who is Other. Their lives need to be in harmony with the ways of God, which are not necessarily the ways of nations and cultures.  This is not a popular message in a society that claims to honor diversity but demands uniformity. Followers of Christ must be different. We must be Other.  We autistic people help remind our sisters and brothers of this.

2) Repetitive Behaviors/Love Of Routines/Hatred of Change

We autistic people tend to like doing things in a certain way.  We usually like to have things in certain places, and to follow certain routines.  The unexpected can be very hard on us. It takes time and effort to adapt to any change. We may soothe ourselves with repetitive motions.  In a society that values newness and change, such behaviors and attitudes appear as problems. Other people cannot understand why we act as we do, or why change is so painful for us.  They only see it negatively.

Can our Catholic tradition enlighten us? Yes. We have already spoken of the holiness of God in our tradition.  How do people respond in the presence of the Holy? In the Old Testament, they did special washings, they followed certain rules, and they maintained a certain distance between the Ark of the Covenant (which symbolized God’s presence) and everyone else.  In the New Testament and in the Church since then, we have liturgies, sacraments, and various styles of prayer.  In other words, we have established routines, repetitive behaviors that rarely change, when we are in the presence of the Holy. That’s what liturgy is.  That’s what ritual is.  That’s how people have instinctively responded to the presence of the Holy for thousands of years.  That’s how we as Catholic Christians respond to the Holy among us now.

In this light, we can say that our routines and repetitive behaviors – though they do soothe us – may also flow from an unconscious or subconscious sense of the presence of the Holy, of God, among us.  We can see them as reminders that we are in God’s presence always.  Other people, who are not autistic, can learn to see these behaviors as reminders that they, too, are always in the presence of the Holy – God – no matter where they are or what they do.

3) Special Interests

We autistic people, from our earliest memories, have had a sense of otherness, of separation from people in general and the world around us.  We perceive ourselves as unique in ways we cannot define or express. This sense of otherness would appear to lead us into the direction of total isolation.  But then, something draws our attention. Something that attracts and fascinates us.  This thing becomes the first breach in our isolation, a crack through which the beauty of the world first captures our notice and through which our wonder and awe first pour forth.  This is not obsessive.  This is falling in love with the beauty of reality.  The thing that enraptures us could be something generic, like dinosaurs, or something more specific, like a specific part of a vacuum cleaner. To others who do not share this love, our focus seems excessive and obsessive. To us, it is sheer delight.  Our greatest act of love is to share it with someone else.  Here is where we first learn to love.

Can our Catholic tradition say something about this? Yes, indeed. We have something called the doctrine of election (and I’m not referring to voting). It means that, out of all the peoples of the world, God chose a people – Israel – for Himself. Not because Israel was better in any way, nor because God hated other nations, but because God wanted one people to come to know Him, to witness to Him, and to be the means through which all the nations of the world would find the blessing of faith in Him.  This sense of election continues in the New Testament and beyond. Those who become members of Christ’s Body, the Church, are the new Israel, the new People of God.  We are chosen, not because we are better than others in any way, but for God’s own purposes: that we might witness to the world through our lives the Gospel given us by Our Lord Jesus Christ, especially in His Passion, Death and Resurrection.  We are the “breach”, so to speak, through which Christ can pour forth His love and grace into a wounded world.

In this light, we can say the following.  First of all, we autistic people can think of our special interests – whatever they are – and tell ourselves, “I am one of God’s special interests. God loves me even more than I love my favorite things!” Secondly, our special interests remind others that they, too, are chosen by God to be a part of His Church and that they are loved even more than we autistic people love our interests (and that’s saying something).  Thirdly, our special interests are really a training ground for love.  In first learning to love one thing, we begin to learn how to love other people and God as well.

4) Empathy

We autistic people run into a serious misunderstanding on the part of other people when it comes to empathy. Because we may have difficulty knowing what we feel, let alone expressing it, people may assume that we do not feel for others. The problem here is that people do not realize that there are two kinds of empathy, as Simon Baron Cohen points out in his work: cognitive empathy and affective empathy. Cognitive empathy is the ability to “read” another person and understand what that person is feeling. With autistic people, cognitive empathy is impaired or even absent.  We usually have a very difficult time in reading someone else’s feelings, until we learn to do so after many years of life.  Affective empathy is the ability to care about how the other person is feeling.  Some studies suggest that autistic people often have a high degree of affective empathy, even if they cannot always demonstrate it well to others.  If we are told that someone feels upset or hurt, we will feel upset or hurt.

Combine this with the autistic person’s usual sense of otherness or isolation, and something interesting begins to emerge. If an autistic person acts on his/her feelings of affective empathy, that person is not likely to feel much affirmation for that act of love. This is partly due to the autistic person’s sense of isolation, and partly due to how difficult it is for the autistic person to express feelings or other inner motivations. For example, here is a story about a young autistic man who began to serve at a homeless shelter and soup kitchen. Some of the homeless people accused him of being “a bad man” because he did not seem warm like the other volunteers. Stories like this one suggest that, whenever an autistic person chooses to love, that love (if it is to last) will become an unconditional love very quickly.  The young man had very little feedback or praise, and lots of questions in his own mind. But he believed that this ministry was what God was calling him to do, and that was enough.  If that isn’t unconditional love, I have never seen it.

Here we get to the very core of our Catholic tradition.  Our faith tells us that God is love.  But what kind of love? A total, selfless, unconditional love. A love that seeks a response, to be sure.  Nevertheless, an unconditional love.  We have St. Paul’s meditation on love in 1 Corinthians 13.  We have St. Paul writing to the Philippians about how Christ emptied Himself, took the form of a slave, and died on the Cross out of love for us.  We have numerous other witnesses to this love – not to mention countless saints who incarnated this Love in their lives, each in their own way.

In this light, we autistic people can see our affective empathy, and the misunderstandings we may encounter as we try to serve others, as an invitation from Our Lord to love as He loves, to have His love dwell in our hearts in all its fullness.  People who are not autistic, but who understand that we are, will see in us a model of disinterested love, a love that gets nothing out of it, but loves for love’s own sake.  Is this not the kind of love most needed in our world now?

Now that you’re warmed up, see if you can go on from here. Think of some characteristic of autistic people that I have not mentioned here.  Does it remind you of anything you have ever read in Scripture or learned about your faith? See if you can make a connection like I have here.

It is my hope that these few words will help people both on and off the spectrum to see autistic people in a different light.  God often chooses those whom the world dismisses and works His wonders in and through them. Autistic people are among God’s little ones.  Let no one tell you otherwise.

 

Call For Submissions

Autism Consecrated Resource Library Call for Submissions

April, 2020: Autism Consecrated is pleased to announce an open call for submissions for publishing on our website’s Resource Area, social media and video channels.

Our goal is to invite people from across all communities, worldwide, to share their insights, ideas and testimonies in an effort to create a comprehensive resource library accessible by anyone with an internet connection. Whatever your background may be, if you have thoughts toward achieving Autism Consecrated’s vision “to realize autism’s belonging in the Body of Christ,” we would love to share them far and wide! Read on to learn more about the goals of the conference and what we look for in submissions.

Types of Submissions

As every person has their own personal communication strengths, so too are we looking for a diverse array of submissions.  The manner in which you communicate best is the one we are looking for.  Audio, visual, video and written submissions are all welcome.

Who May Submit Presentations

The short answer is, “anyone!”

That said, here are some more specific examples of who might be interested in participating.

Autistic People and their Supporters

There are few presentations as valuable as those which come from direct, firsthand expertise.  In fact, it would be impossible to build a resource library to address the needs of the autistic community without having its foundation in the autistic community itself!  What are your spiritual needs?  What are the practical challenges to being autistic Christians?  What ways does autism enhance your faith and that of your community?

Key Players in Faith Communities

What have you seen that affirms – or, would affirm –  the value of autistic members in our faith communities?  How can we foster such initiatives in our own and in other communities?  How does the perception of the community encourage autistic people to fulfill their potential in the Body of Christ, even when autism at times appears to interfere with this purpose?

Clergy and Administrators

What are the successes, as well as the challenges, you have seen in meeting the spiritual needs of the autistic community?  What supports do YOU need in serving the autistic community?

Scholars, Theologians and Essayists

How do we reconcile autism’s gifts and challenges with Sacred Scripture, Church Tradition and the theology of disability?  How can we discuss this in ways that include, accept and invite people who may feel unworthy or incapable of participating in worship and community faith activities because of autism?

What we are looking for

Diverse topics

While there will be some overlap expected, we are hoping to get a variety of responses from many perspectives so that our library can truly become a resource for the wide, wide community.

Practicality and positivity

Submissions should reflect hope, encouragement and possibility.  While there is a time and a place for addressing grievances, our library is intended to go beyond identifying problems into generating and offering solutions.

The Gift of your Expertise

Autism Consecrated is a website, not a business.  While we are glad to have this be a mutually beneficial opportunity for professional exposure, and we are aware that many contributors have legitimate reason to promote their talents, the primary reason for contributing to our library is to offer your particular expertise as a gift to others and other communities.  If promotion is the main thrust of your submission, please consider a more appropriate venue to publicize your work.

Respectful Language

“Realizing Autism’s Belonging in the Body of Christ” is the banner under which our website resides.  Although we are Christian in our beliefs, we respect everyone of all abilities, backgrounds and traditions, and we ask that submissions show that same respect to one and all.  We reserve the right to edit or refuse submissions that do not consistently uphold the inherent dignity of every person as a child of God.

Selection Process

We will review submissions in the order in which they are received, and strive to notify you of selection status in as short a time frame as circumstances allow.

Format Details

Submissions may be in the format which best reflects your communication style, so long as they are generally coherent and able to be accessed by the worldwide online audience.  Length is at your creative discretion.  As a general rule, the more efficiently you convey your key message, the better the chances of reaching your intended audience.

Questions?

If you have any questions, please email us at autismconsecrated@gmail.com and we will respond as soon as we are able.

Ready?  Set?  SUBMIT!  All submissions become the property of Autism Consecrated and must be accompanied by a signed release form in order to be considered. 

Submit your contribution and signed release form to:

autismconsecrated@gmail.com

Thank You!

-Aimée O’Connell, Co-Founder of Autism Consecrated

Do You Want To Build A Library?

by Aimée O’Connell

 

Once upon a short while ago, the team at Autism Consecrated was assembling a symposium entitled “Autism Through the Eyes of God,” intended to bring together an array of speakers to inspire and challenge those in attendance to flip our view of autism as a disability and see what it might look like in terms of the gifts each autistic person brings to the faith community.  We had just begun to consider location, date and cost when COVID-19 asserted itself as the card holder in all of our affairs, and now we find ourselves looking at an entirely new landscape where public gatherings are concerned.  Not only are conferences being postponed indefinitely, but prospective attendees are facing job cuts, loss of work hours and a necessary reshuffling of priorities across the board.

While these new operating parameters take precedence among service providers around the world, the topic of autism in our faith communities is just as relevant, if not more so during times of crisis and uncertainty. Moreover, the shift from real interaction to electronic and virtual contacts in the name of public safety only reinforces the spiritual health benefits we lose when we cannot interact in person. Our hope all along was to create a symposium to share our common goals in the same space. Until that can happen… what can we do?

Do you want to build a library?

We were already planning to upload the “best of” our live symposia talks to our YouTube channel.  While we wait for that time when we are able to gather and inspire one another in person, why not enkindle and explore ideas without limits, without cost, and without letting this time of quarantine detract from the passion we carry in our hearts for realizing autism’s belonging in the Body of Christ?

In that spirit, we are opting right now to convert our “Presentations” section to a Clickable Resource Library. In order to build that library, we need content! As such, we are rolling out a Call for Submissions, accompanied by a Release of Information Form, which we will make available in a separate post here and in the Resource Area on the main page of our website.

Whether you have a submission you would like to contribute or a request for a specific topic to be covered, we need your input!

We also need our Call for Submissions shared far and wide in order to get this Resource Library off the ground. Please help us get the word out via email and social media. Download the documents here, or request them by email at autismconsecrated@gmail.com.

Do you want to build a library?  Let’s do this!

 

 

Support for Autistic Vocations

As part of Autism Consecrated’s vision “to realize autism’s belonging in the Body of Christ,” we are setting up a Vocations area with the intention of offering support and encouragement to autistic people who have been called to certain vocations on behalf of the Church: the diocesan priesthood, religious orders, consecrated virgins, and hermits.  The specific calling you have from the Lord gives you something in common with everyone else who shares that calling.  In accepting the calling, you are taking on a way of life that is already established and which comes with a number of expectations.  In all of this, you are on the same page as everyone else who shares your calling.

On the other hand, you are autistic.  You are not totally defined by your autism. Nevertheless, your autism influences nearly every aspect of your lives, including how you understand, respond to and live out your vocation in the Church.  Your autism gives you certain challenges that others around you may not understand – anxiety, a need for routine, or difficulties with social interactions, to name some examples. At the same time, your autism gives you gifts and graces that not everyone has or will understand, either.  You may find yourself unusually sensitive to the spiritual realm.  You may have an allergy to doublespeak or hypocrisy that may irritate others but shows your commitment to truth.  You may discover that the Lord’s power is made most evident in what others would call your weaknesses.

Even though you may have a strong commitment to your vocation and have friends who support your vocation, being autistic means that a significant aspect of your life is not readily understood by even those who are close to you.  You may feel isolated or unseen.

Here, we wish to offer a space where you can be seen and understood, as much as you wish.  We wish to offer ways by which you can see your autism more holistically and better integrate it into your vocation and your life as a whole.

This is a work in progress.  We may offer some resources or posts that we hope you will find helpful.  I can offer my experiences of negotiating my vocation as a diocesan priest and a contemplative while being autistic.  On the sidebar, you will see where we are setting up a forum for users to seek support from us and from one another.  We are open to any suggestions you may have as to what you would find most helpful from a page like this one.  Likewise, we encourage you to share this page with those you know who might find it helpful.

May Saint Thorlak, our Patron, guide us as we seek to help one another!

Peace in the Lord,

Father Mark Nolette

 

 

 

 

 

Mercy, Unmasked

Easter has come! Alleluia! No virus can destroy our faith and hope in the Resurrection!

Can it?

No, assuredly, not.  There is plenty of evidence to the contrary.  People are clamoring more than ever for a taste of God, and we are doing everything within our creative power to stay connected to our faith communities in any way we can.  Every social media page is filled with encouragement and song, even “COVID-cover” songs to parody the virus that has redefined every aspect of normal existence.

The liturgical calendar is just getting started with the celebrations, with Easter being (of course) the greatest and highest of our feasting.  But besides giving us fifty days dedicated to proclaiming victory over death, the Church gives us a feast-within-a-feast, Divine Mercy Sunday, which adds dimensions of depth reaching far beyond simple celebration.  Mercy Sunday deepens the Easter celebration to encourage us to realize there is even more: more growth, more life, more realization of what it truly means to have witnessed Christ now proclaimed, denied, condemned, killed, mourned and resurrected.

What an interesting time to come upon the Feast of Divine Mercy.  Who among us is not eager to pray for mercy?  The world begs for mercy… upon those dying from COVID-19 complications… upon healthcare workers and first responders… upon families who are diligently following every protocol to protect their weak and vulnerable members… upon those whose needs must be set aside to prioritize the response to the pandemic… upon those who are unemployed, or without food, or whose housing and basic necessities are jeopardized by the shutdown of businesses.  The list is overwhelmingly long.

It is an understatement to say that our coping resources are stretched to their limits, no matter who we are, no matter what we carry in our daily rucksacks of needs, challenges and obligations.

It is burdensome to imagine adding any more challenge to the mix.  I pray this is explicitly clear to those reading this post: There is nothing in my intended words meant to suggest that any reader is not doing enough, not making the most of what we can with what we have, and not responding with faith and love in the midst of all the rapidly changing mental, spiritual and physical demands.

In the spirit of building ourselves and each other in faith, then, we have the opportunity to pray for Divine Mercy.

For the past month and beyond, our civic leaders have done an excellent job communicating what we need to know, and do, to maintain our physical safety.  We have been given clear visuals on how to sanitize our hands and surfaces we touch, where to stand to maintain safe distance, and even a very concise explanation of the statistical models being used to predict the best chance at containing and minimizing the devastation that might result from the worst-case scenarios.  It has taken a few weeks to adjust and adapt, but for the most part, we are functioning as a society within very different physical guidelines, and doing a remarkably good job.

Now that we have had this time to digest, assimilate and adapt, we can begin considering how these changes might impact our spiritual health and well-being.

Readers of the Mission of Saint Thorlak will recall several themes on this topic over the past three years.  A brief synopsis might be:

  • Health of the body must first hinge upon, and flow from, attention to health of the soul
  • Health of the soul comes from recognizing and embracing our vulnerability and common human needs
  • Self-preservation is a pattern that shuts others out, eventually shutting out our openness to God
  • Love casts out all fear
  • Mercy is rooted in trust

The following is an excerpt from “The Divine Mercy Connection,” published by the Mission of Saint Thorlak in February, 2018:

Numerous teachings on Divine Mercy have been proclaimed by saints and theologians of recent time to counter the despair, fear and littleness we experience with the expanding awareness of evil in our age.  Thousands hear and turn toward God in the comfort of this loving embrace.  Yet, thousands more miss the window, maybe not even knowingly, by practicing the culture’s habits of humanism, relativism and individualism with dysphoria and distrust.  Thousands fortify themselves in self-esteem, self-justification and self-preservation because it is the backbone of individualism.  Such mindsets may be great for self-empowerment, but ultimately, they impede and reject mercy because they do not perceive any use – any need – for it.

Brokenness [vulnerability] permits mercy to penetrate the shell of self-reliance.  It is through our vulnerability that mercy reaches us. Need is the most fundamental common denominator of humanity.  We are all weak, or broken, or needy in some way.  Being comfortable with weakness will win the battle of spiritual deprivation because need is not a weapon… it is our supply pipeline… our very lifeline.  Without need, life has no purpose.  Even the staunchest individualist can be persuaded to see – and experience – the validity of this argument.

Need opens doors.

If we have no place for need, we cannot understand mercy; because, without need, mercy is meaningless.

 

Revisiting these words seems almost foreign after weeks of learning how to protect ourselves, isolate ourselves, fortify ourselves and reduce vulnerability.

It is absurd to suggest that we should ignore the safety of ourselves or others, and that is not at all the purpose of this post.  But now that we know how to be physically safe, and as we come up on Divine Mercy Sunday, I wonder if it is an acceptable time to reintroduce vulnerability, on a spiritual level… or, if that word has now become hopelessly associated with something to be shielded, fortified or avoided?

Let us start by thinking about the masks many are wearing at the urging of health officials.  I am not referring to those treating coronavirus infections on the front lines, whose masks are critically important.  I am referring to the rest of us, whose masks are nonetheless important, but in the sense that they shield us from the potential of being unknowingly exposed to an unseen threat.

C.S. Lewis posed the question through the voice of Orual: “How can [God] meet us face to face, till we have faces?”

In similar vein, I ask: How do we pray for mercy unless we are open to what mercy asks of us?

How do we pray for mercy during a time when physical safety requires shielding ourselves?

Now that we have learned how to lock down, how do we learn how to open up again?

If we go deeper, we can begin to ask the harder questions, with sincere honesty and humility: For whom, for what, would we risk exposure?  For whom, for what, will we take off our masks?  What would Divine Mercy compel us to respond?  And what if, after weeks of fear, our hearts are not yet ready?

May this be a beginning of an authentic, renewal of Mercy, for which we each might pray.

 

Autism In The Pandemic: When We Don’t Conform

TL;DR: Crisis situations amplify society’s demand for conformity, which under normal circumstances is already a challenge for autistics.  The thoughts and feelings of divergent thinkers are valid and welcome even when these fall outside the norms being set by the pandemic.

This post, I’m sure, is not for everyone.  It may be for some, in parts, and others in other parts.  It is not meant to be a universally applied patch, but I offer it for those who will find it helpful.

Over the past three weeks, great good has unfolded in the world as people come together and support one another in many hours of need.  But there are social perils afloat in the community as we rally together.  Without exaggeration, some autistics are feeling now more marginalized than ever before.  But, why?  Can we really point a finger at the pandemic?

Yes.  Crisis situations amplify society’s demand for conformity, which under normal circumstances is already a challenge for autistics.  Furthermore, the ways we are not easily understood outside of crisis situations can become greatly magnified when tensions run high.  Yet, our needs have not changed, and we cannot put them on hold because everyone is somehow expected to cope with valor “because it’s a crisis.”  It is just as acceptable to be needy now as it was before the orders came to postpone all nonessential matters.

Another point to address: Autistic people do not automatically feel vindicated by either “stay-home orders” or “social distancing.”  In fact, many of us are keenly aware of how this new way of living is creating great pain and frustration for ourselves and others, and for us to wish that on anyone is absurd.  Autistics do not routinely stand six feet from our friends… many of us do enjoy hugs, when we expect them… and no, we have not all longed for the day when we are ordered to stay home.  (Some autistics are even extroverts who are struggling greatly right now!) There are many days autistics will retreat to recover our spent energy, but being part of the community is as important to autistics as anyone else.  If anything, autistic anxiety is likely much higher with all the new and rapidly changing rules, frightening images, panic buying and shortages of supplies we need, and the tremendous suffering we are now aware of, day after day.  Also, those of us who need a set amount of personal space to stay regulated are finding it most challenging to be home with other people, day after day, without the ability to have any truly “alone” time.  The assumption that quarantine is an autistic’s dream come true brings us right to the brink of crying foul in the name of cultural appropriation.

How, then, are autistics adapting to the new normal?  As best we can.  All these changes in our routines take time to assimilate and process.  The pervasive sense of fear is unnerving wherever we go, so our anxieties are likely a lot higher from that alone.  And then there is this: Video messaging is not easy for everyone.  Many (not all) autistics find Skype and Zoom highly provocative of our natural social anxiety.  Now, instead of only feeling self-conscious, we get to see that awkwardness in real-time.  If we have been told repeatedly that our poker-face puts people off, seeing it is not only awkward, but can feel shameful… even though it ought not to be.  It is ridiculously hard to navigate smalltalk on the grid screen, and even more so when the smalltalk is now centered on the pandemic.  In face to face encounters, autistics often go inwardly on “screensaver” during smalltalk as a way of coping and hanging in until a relevant topic begins, but we have little choice when we are on display.  With video chat now the preferred way of maintaining relationships, school and employment, those who are forging through are doing so at great cost to our energy level.

As far as the challenge of thinking outside the pandemic: It is okay to NOT feel afraid, to NOT enjoy online events, and to hold different and creative ideas for carrying on and engineering what we ordinarily would have done.  This one seems obvious, but it is huge and vitally important to say.  Why?  Because our social environment has become greatly limited to online interactions and brief actual conversations.  The same dynamics that marginalize people in everyday situations are now highly concentrated and nearly unavoidable.  Here’s how:  A pandemic is, by definition, a life-or-death situation.  The majority of any group are the ones who determine the rules for safety and standards of “right” conduct.  When anxiety is high and fear of infection is at play, ordinary allowances for diverse opinions are suspended.  It is how crisis management works.  However, when crisis management takes over the social setting as it has by the need for social distancing, the risk is extremely high for anyone who does not match the standards of the majority to be shunned, both overtly and subtly.  But, what if you honestly feel well prepared, resourceful, and have a good grasp on the expected operating procedures? What if you are not afraid?  That does not mean you are reckless, thoughtless, indifferent or skeptical… but the larger community may portray you that way.  The problem is, those who are not afraid become frightening to people who are already frightened.  One of the common responses to that is accusation and scapegoating.  We have seen enough of these dramatizations on shows like “The Twilight Zone,” when neighbors turn on one another in response to fear and failure to conform.  Autistic or not, there are many who feel confident, prepared and calm… and, therefore, marginalized. It is hard to participate in conversations dominated by fear and rumination when we do not feel that way.  Pockets of friends who are applying themselves to “the cause” turn angry toward the one in the group who feels their energy is better used elsewhere.  Creative ideas challenge the lockdown mentality and become a threat rather than the tremendous help they ought to be.  In short, people are much less likely to “live and let live” when they perceive a crisis at hand, and this is a hugely difficult time for divergent thinker.

Through all of these trials, may we remember that this time will eventually pass.  One way or the other, we and our communities will find ourselves wiser on the other side.  May we continue consecrating our autism, all the ways it shapes our minds and hearts, and trust that these areas of divergence will be gateways for God to form deeper and stronger relationships through our daily doings.

The COVID-19 Zone -Or- How We Learn To Stop Worrying and Surrender to Love

by Father Mark P. Nolette

 

We are about to begin Holy Week.

April is Autism Awareness Month.

We are in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic.

All three realities converge for us now.  What do they have to do with one another? Nothing… and everything.   The pandemic, and our responses to it, have brought us to a crisis moment as the People of God.  There is hope on the horizon – an immense, brilliant hope, hidden in Christ but offered to us now.  Before we can perceive this hope, we must acknowledge our situation as it is. This will be very difficult for many.  It entails seeing things in a manner differently than the world as a whole sees things.  That is why we need to look to autistic people – people who habitually see things differently; people who are not fooled by ‘spin’ – as an example of what this means and how it can work.  It is the hour when people who appear to be of no use – such as autistic people and contemplatives – may have something valuable to share with everyone else.

Let us begin.

We Americans like to define ourselves by what we do.  We feel better about ourselves when we can tell others how busy we are.  We may complain about it, but we also pride ourselves in it. We define others by how well they can adapt to our culture of busyness.  We speak of those who cannot keep up as “dis-abled”. We do not respect those who choose to order their lives differently.  We plan and fill the hours of our days, our work time and play time.  When we must physically stop, we fill the space around us with movies, TV shows, games, and conversation.  Our culture of busyness also provides us with the illusion that we are in control of our lives.  We have calendars; we have meetings; we have detailed plans and agendas.  We have life by the throat – or so we like to think.

Enter COVID-19.

This virus and the methods we have chosen to slow its spread have upended our usual sense of busyness and control.  A sense of loss and absence is pervasive. Schools and colleges have either gone to online learning or are shut down completely.  Some people must work from home, while others have lost their jobs. Social distancing makes it more difficult to connect with friends and family.  Restaurants, movie theaters, museums, and even many parks are closed. Professional sports leagues have cancelled games. Clubs and other social groups have cancelled or postponed activities.  The way we shop for groceries has changed.  Most states currently have stay-at-home orders in effect for their people.  We now find that we have more time on our hands and fewer ways to spend that time.  We miss the easy familiarity of friends and relatives.  We fear the loss of control.  We feel as though we are now in a Twilight Zone episode where everything looks the same on the outside, but our lives have changed profoundly.  We do not know how long these changes will last, or how many of us may end up with coronavirus.  Where we once knew busyness and control, we now find absence and emptiness.

Absence is suddenly all we see, starting with our own removal from where we normally go.  We basically agree that it is a concession, a sacrifice, for a greater good; and then, we seek to fill the space.  To lessen the shock of change, we begin finding substitutions to approximate what is missing.  Restaurants closed?  Then, we can order takeout!  Housebound for the evening?  Movie marathon!  Meetings cancelled?  Video conferencing!  Birthday party?  Neighborhood greetings on parade, viewed from the safety of your window!  After a while, this improvisation becomes a badge for the war effort. We cheer each other on as we prove that we can overcome any loss with enough creativity and imagination.  Yet, we cannot help but detect the scent of cognitive dissonance in all this.  All these actions are substitutes, desperate attempts to convince ourselves that life goes on as usual – except that it isn’t.  And we know it.

We look to our Church for help and guidance. In official statements from diocese to diocese, we find instead a reflection of what we see everywhere else, written with such consistency from one diocese to the next that we wonder if there is a template that everyone is passing around.  First, we find absence – an absence that we are told, regrettably, is necessary as a response to COVID-19: no public Masses, few if any Sacraments publicly celebrated (or celebrated at all), devotions and other public gatherings cancelled; church buildings in many (but not all) dioceses locked 24/7. Yet, these same official statements assure us that all is well and in control.  The work of the Church continues, we are told.  We are encouraged to watch livestreamed Masses and make prayers of spiritual communion.  Yet again, if we are open, we will catch the scent of cognitive dissonance.  The work of the Church is not continuing as it should – and we all know it.

Something is missing here.  Something is not being spoken or acknowledged.  Until we can fully acknowledge where we are, we cannot know which way we should go from here to move forward.  What is missing?

If all we do is attempt to replace one form of busyness with another, we learn nothing. If all we do is try to maintain the illusion that we are in control, we see nothing.

An artist or an architect might tell us that what we are missing is negative space or, more precisely, what only negative space can reveal.  Negative space – those areas deliberately kept empty – is as essential as every visible color, line and element in any work of art.  The use of space in a painting helps us see the subject as the artist intends.  Pauses bring out the melody in a musical piece.  Silent moments are a necessary part of any good conversation.  Negative space reveals a depth of meaning that color or sound or shape alone cannot offer.  If the artist filled all negative space, the work would suffer and even become incomprehensible.  Negative space, then, is necessary in art and in life.

How does this concept of negative space enter our discussion of the COVID-19 crisis and how we as a Church can see it and respond to it?

In the Christian spiritual life, we have a term for negative space.  We call it contemplation. Contemplation is a long, loving look at the real. Because it is a loving look, it means that we see things through the eyes of God.  Because it is a long look, it means that, in order to have that loving, divine perspective, we must create negative space in our hearts and minds.  We let go of control and power so that we can look around us with open eyes and humble, loving hearts.  Contemplation, or Christian negative space, reminds us that God’s ways are not our ways, that we are all blinded by the world, and that we can only see once we see the truth in love, as God knows it to be.  This can only be given us by God as a grace.  We cannot control it or set its agenda.  We receive it, and then we offer it to all.

Here we must add a warning. Some people have the impression that contemplation should always yield peace of mind; that it is a method to calm fears and anxieties.  Not necessarily.  Christian contemplation sees what really is with the eyes of love.  In this case, we may fear what we might see.  We see absence.  Emptiness.  But it’s not a neutral emptiness.  We would not fear that so much.  In that empty space, we perceive pain.

What pain do we perceive?  There is the pain of the hundreds of thousands who have COVID-19 and the thousands who are dying of it.  There is the pain of hundreds of thousands of others who have other afflictions that we might be ignoring now.  There is the pain brought about by social distancing and the lack of human touch.  There is the fear of what this pandemic will mean for everyone.  There is the pain of separation from Mass, the Sacraments, and especially the Eucharist.

All these are our pains.  But can we speak of a pain in the very heart of God? Does God not in some mysterious way share our burdens? Does God not know the suffering of those who are ill with COVID-19, or any other illness? Does God not know the pain of social isolation, or anxiety, or uncertainty? When we no longer offer one another the Sacraments – those extremely precious gifts of God to us – have we not, in a sense, spurned God by rejecting His gifts? Does our lack of faith and courage also cause God pain, in that our fears become an obstacle to His love and mercy?

When we stand in the love of God, we have the courage to face all such pain.  Where do we go from here?  Where does hope enter in?

The Scriptures show us.  Faced with such overwhelming pain, people in the Scriptures lament.  We see it in the Psalms, first of all.  We see it in the prophets.  Jesus weeps and laments over Jerusalem for its inability to recognize what the Father was offering it through Him.  So must we lament.

What should we lament?  We lament the pandemic itself and the great suffering it has caused to so many around the world.  We lament the effects of the measures taken to try to curb the pandemic – the social separation, the loss of jobs, the weakening of a sense of community, the loss of access even to many of the Sacraments.  We lament our refusal to pause our busyness long enough to gaze upon the world with that long, loving look of contemplation.  We lament how we have treated those who God has sent to show the rest of us how to do this. Since we find lamentation in the Scriptures, we can be assured that the Lord also laments for all these things and more.

Just as many of the lamentation psalms ended in expressions of hope, so, too, hope can truly enter once we have seen with open eyes what is going on, allowed ourselves to feel the pain, and lamented it.  Then, and only then, do we know where we truly are.  Then, and only then, can the Lord reach us.  Recall that His power is best manifested in what the world calls weakness. Foolishness. Failure.  Nowhere is this better manifested for us than in the events we are about to commemorate during Holy Week.

Only when we have seen things as they are and lamented them fully can we be truly open to the Lord’s voice in our hearts.  Only then can we discover what the Lord has planned for us – a future full of hope and joy.  But this future will not come from our own efforts.  It will be a gift of God.  Living that gift will take plenty of effort, of course.  But the gift will make the effort possible.

Where do we go from here? Only the Lord can fully answer that question, if we are serious about trusting Him and loving Him with all our being.  Yet, we can say this as a beginning.

First of all, the COVID-19 crisis reminds us that we are not in control and that our plans cannot account for everything.  We need something else to add to the mix: we need contemplation.  We need that ongoing long, loving look at the real.  We need to value it in our lives and live it when we can.  We need to value those whom the Lord has called to devote their lives totally to this.  We can now see that contemplation is as valuable as action, for action loses its purpose without the negative space of contemplation.

Secondly, we find ourselves struggling to maintain contact with people we like and love.  We are challenged by the constraints of social distancing.  We feel the uncertainty of a crisis over which we feel little control.  All our normal routines are disrupted.  Can anyone help us with all this? Who knows how to live such lives? Might it not be the autistic people among us, who have always felt socially distant and challenged? Autistic people, who have always struggled to connect emotionally with people they love? Autistic people, who often feel overwhelmed by life and who try to maintain daily routines? Might this be the moment when autistic people can share their hard-earned wisdom and experience with the world?

Finally, we are about to celebrate Holy Week.  This is the week where Jesus made Himself negative space; where He emptied Himself completely, giving His life for us and giving us the Eucharist as the ultimate Sacrament of His presence among us.  This would be an excellent time to practice the art of negative space, the art of contemplation, of a long, loving look at the real.  Set aside times during Holy Week when you can tune out everything, both outside yourself and within, and say to the Lord, “Here I am!”  Be ready to share His love and His sorrow; His joy and His pain.  It is all a part of Love.  It is all a part of how Love will bring you, by love, to Love.

World Autism Day 2020

On this World Autism Awareness Day, we wanted to take a moment to highlight some of the things we have been working on here at Autism Consecrated.

Prayer Cards and Leaflets.  The Prayer for Autism Support and Prayer to Consecrate Autism are now available in print format, able to be requested by individuals and also available in bulk quantities for bookstores, parishes, schools and large gatherings.*

(* We recognize that large gatherings are not feasible for the next several weeks, but when regular establishments begin operating once again, we are ready and available.)

Audio Format for Prayers.  Though still a work in progress, we are actively exploring options for good-quality audio recordings of the autism prayers on our website.

Translation.  We are still looking for volunteers who would be willing to adopt sections of our website content and translate them into languages other than English.  This might be a wonderful way to apply free time during the COVID shutdown!

Support for Autistic Clergy and Religious.  Over the next several weeks, we are looking to introduce a support area for autistic priests, deacons, seminarians and religious brothers and sisters.  We plan to roll out a forum for online gathering and discussion, as well as build an idea bank for approaching and navigating consecrated life on the spectrum.  Our long-term vision is to be a place where autistic clergy and religious can find understanding, support and encouragement in their respective vocations, dioceses and communities.  If this applies to you, and you have any wishes or suggestions for us in these building stages, we invite you to share these with us directly.

Symposia, Webinars and Retreats.  Just before COVID began shutting things down, Autism Consecrated was assembling our inaugural symposium, “Autism Through the Eyes of God,” featuring an array of speakers to discuss the theological implications of autism and inclusion in the Body of Christ.  Though our plans are on hold with everything else, we are still intent on bringing this to fruition, one form or another.  In the interim, we are exploring alternate ideas for presenting our material and using the down time to brainstorm creative ways to spark and conduct these conversations in the absence of the ability to gather.

In sum: Great things are happening.  We are very blessed to be part of it all!  Saint Thorlak, pray for us, as we pause to acknowledge the autistic lives that shape our world!

 

Prayer for Autism Support

Front and back of our Prayer for Autism Support

 

Prayer to Consecrate Autism

Leaflet of the Prayer to Consecrate Autism