Why Attend Mass At All? [ACAT 27]

In this unprecedented time of shutdown and social distancing, the majority of Catholics worldwide are being asked to stay home instead of congregating for weekly Mass.  Though a bit ahead of sequence, we wanted to share a few observations about Mass and the Eucharist.  In keeping with our annotation of the Baltimore Catechism, the points we reference come from Lessons 22, 23 and 24 of Baltimore Catechism Four.

Why are priests continuing to say Mass when people are asked to stay home?

Mass is more than a worship service organized by and for the faithful, although that is an undeniably important component.  Mass itself is “the unbloody Sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Christ” (lesson 24).  Sacrifice itself is an act tracing back to ancient times when something of value would be given over to God in gratitude and acknowledgment of God’s goodness.  Most often, the object of the sacrifice would be an animal or harvested produce, and the offering would be made by destroying the object in an act of sending it back to God.  Archaic though that seems to people of our time, the underlying sense can be compared to children buying their parents gifts from their allowance money.  With every provision we receive coming from God, we are unable to create anything that would be a gift to Him; thus, the practice of taking our best and sending it back was the closest approximation of a gift we might give to God.

Looking at the statement above, then, that the Mass is the unbloody Sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Christ, we encounter the center of our faith.  At every Mass, the priest offers God the sacrifice of Christ’s Body and Blood, in an unbloody manner.

Who is offering to whom?  Why and how was Christ’s Body and Blood offered in the first place?

On the Cross, Jesus offered His Body and Blood in a gesture of reconciliation and atonement.  God chose to become human, suffer and die in an offering of sacrifice on behalf of all humanity.  God became human for this purpose — that Jesus may offer humanity back to God through Himself.

The Mass, then, is the continuation of this offering.  It is continued each time a priest offers the Body and Blood of Christ by consecrating bread and wine in the words provided by Jesus Himself.  When the prayer of consecration is offered worthily, Jesus becomes truly present in that offering.  The bread takes on the substance of Jesus’ flesh, and the wine takes on the substance of Jesus’ blood.  God, in His mercy, arranged the sacrifice to be made perpetually with material that nourishes and soothes us, rather than horrifies and frightens us, as might happen in witnessing the actual sacrifice as it took place on Calvary.  Hence, the sacrifice of the Mass is “unbloody.”

Every time a priest offers Mass, he intercedes for us to God, calling down the tremendous graces released to humanity at the moment of Jesus’ death.  Each and every time.

Why, then, do we attend, if the priest can do this without us?  What do we add?

Now we’ve hit the heart.  In fact, we’ve hit the very core of the Autism Consecrated website.  What do we bring to the table?  Why show up if we have nothing to contribute?

In terms of utility, what do we add by attending the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass?  NOTHING.

Yet, deep in the fiber of our hearts, we know that cannot be true.  And that’s right: it’s not true. It’s not about our utility.  What do we add by attending Mass?  OUR VERY SELVES.  Our presence alone suffices as a gift to Our Lord as He offers Himself in love for us.  We can never say we have nothing to add if we arrive with open hands and open hearts, to stand in witness and in solidarity with Our Crucified Lord as He suffers betrayal and death to prove just how far He will go to say to each one of us: I LOVE YOU !

The Sacrifice of the Mass is the perpetual outpouring of love from God to His people.  That love will pour forth whether we are there or not.  But knowing that each Mass is an offering not only of ourselves to God, but of God’s tremendous love to us… how could it be that anyone, regardless of ability, regardless of need… ought not to be there to receive that love?

Technology permits us to watch and pray from a safe distance.  As we do, may we realize that we are watching Our Beloved, Jesus, pouring out His love for us.  That love is as real and valid as any love.  But how much more vividly love touches us when we are able to receive it in person!

May our temporary absence give us time and space to reflect on the true nature of the Mass.  More importantly, may we reflect on how it feels to be separated from this Divine Love… and if we can ever say that anyone among us could not benefit, and be of benefit, by attending.

A Word from Father Mark Nolette

(Ordinarily, Father Mark Nolette’s posts appear on his blog, The Anchorite.  If you have not yet seen his page or subscribed to his blog, it is well worth checking out.  Since his post today offers very timely support and validation for the autistic community, I am cross-posting here.  – Aimee O’Connell)

I begin with a statistic.  The New York Times reported this morning that the number of confirmed cases of COVID-19 worldwide, as of yesterday, is 160,000.  About half of these are in China.  On the one hand, if we focus on this number only, it seems rather small compared to the total population of the planet, which is estimated at over seven billion people.  This number is, for the moment, far smaller than the number of people who are infected with a typical late winter flu outbreak.  However, that’s not the number that has experts worried.  They believe that the number of cases will explode geometrically, becoming many times that number before the outbreak peaks.

How many times?

There we find a difference of opinion.  Last week, the New York Times reported on four possible scenarios for how many people in this country could be infected with coronavirus, and how many could die.  The estimates of infection range from 15% to 50% of the population.  The number of deaths range from 500k to 2 million.  The experts acknowledge that containment efforts, if applied, could reduce these estimates.  Moreover, because coronavirus is novel, no one knows if some people might have some immunity to it or not.

The fear we are feeling is not so much about the numbers of people who now have it, a number we can safely estimate.  The fear is about the uncertainty of how many people will eventually get it, and how bad it will be.  Moreover, given that a sizable number of people in this country do not trust scientific or medical experts, that compounds the uncertainty.  Moreover, the very existence of this virus among us makes us feel vulnerable.  All the king’s horses and all the king’s men (and all the king’s money) cannot drive it away.  No wall can keep it out.  We Americans are not used to feeling vulnerable.  This only heightens the anxiety.

What do we have, then? A grave level of fear and anxiety.  An overwhelming sense of impending doom. People grasping at any straw, even to the point of stockpiling toilet paper, in order to feel some sense of security or preparedness.  A sense of panic that may be more severe than the virus itself.

Welcome to the world of autistic people.

What I am seeing, as a priest and an autistic person, looks very much like autistic anxiety.  Some of the reactions I see look very much to me like autistic meltdown.  The anxiety I often feel before a weekend liturgy is something like this.  The anxiety I feel when something unexpected, like a funeral, enters my life is something like this.  The anxiety I feel when some future plan is still uncertain is something like this.  As an autistic person, I have needed to grapple with anxieties like these, learn to decipher them, and learn to live with them.  Therefore, I may be able to offer something from my experience as an autistic person that could help many other people during these trying times.

What have I learned that may be of help to others?

1) Things are not as bad as they feel. Yes, I am well aware of the danger of minimizing the risk of coronavirus. However, my sense is that the opposite is the greater danger; that people will panic and make the danger more than it really is.  Then, with panic in control, people do not think well. They may make choices that make the situation worse.  They may look for people to blame.  Sometimes, when I am celebrating Mass, it can feel as though I were the deer and the congregation were all hunters.  Now, there’s a kernel of truth in this. Social exposure of this kind is difficult for me.  However, it’s not quite as bad as it might feel for me at that moment.  In the same way, coronavirus is a real danger, but it’s not quite as bad as our panic might make it out to be.

2) We are not powerless. When anxiety becomes panic, we feel overwhelmed. We feel that we have no control, no options.  We learn to step back when this happens and remind ourselves that this is not true.  As an autistic person, I know that there are ways to manage anxiety.  There are also ways to address the outbreak and reduce the risk.  In managing anxiety, there are techniques like cognitive behavioral therapy, which help us examine our thoughts and see if they correspond to what really is.  Many people find that a few moments with camomile tea helps them soothe their nerves and be recollected.  Then, when anxiety and panic are more manageable, we can look at the actual situation and take appropriate action.  There are ways to significantly reduce our risk of catching or spreading coronavirus.

3) We must never deny or ignore our needs. This COVID-19 outbreak reminds us of our fundamental vulnerability as human beings.  We may find it difficult to acknowledge this vulnerability, to ourselves or to others.  We may feel the overwhelming temptation to camouflage those weak spots at all costs.  As an autistic person, I am well aware of my own vulnerabilities and limitations, especially in social situations.  Nevertheless, I have found that the stronger and more courageous thing to do is to acknowledge those vulnerabilities to myself and to others.  Paradoxically, this unlocks a strength in me and in others that makes all of us stronger.  Acknowledging our legitimate needs, and drawing healthy boundaries, are essential for our health and survival.  This is all the more true in the stressful situation we now find ourselves in.

4) We are not alone. Perhaps the greatest danger when we feel overwhelmed with intense anxieties, panic, or depression is the sense that each one of us is alone in this.  No one else could understand, we tell ourselves.  In this kind of isolation, we feel weaker.  We become easier prey to panic, depression and despair.  As an autistic person, I grew up with a profound sense of being “different” without being able to name that difference.  There were things about me that others could not understand, and there were things about others that I could not understand.  Though there is truth in this, there is also a danger – the danger of feeling ultimately alone in a dangerous world.  When I find others who share some of these attributes with me, I know I am not alone.  It is important for us all to share our anxieties and concerns with others so that we know we are not alone.

5) We are saved by Love.  Everything I have tried to say is summed up here.  It is Love that saves us.  It is Love that empowers us.  It is Love that assures us, above all, that we are not alone.  It is Love that we need more than any other thing.  And this Love is God.  As an autistic child, I felt more withdrawn from other people than I do now.  The first things to reach me were what some call “special interests” – my love for astronomy, dinosaurs, history, and many other things I began to discover.  Caught up in love for these things, I could easily talk your ear off, whereas I’d be silent most of the time otherwise.  Some see these interests as excessive and pathological.  Not necessarily.  They are meant, for the autistic person, to be a training ground for love.  Learning how to love these things helps us begin to love other people and, ultimately, to love God with that same total devotion that flows from the very marrow of our bones and the very cardiac tissue of our hearts.  All of us, faced with the fears caused by this outbreak, can renew our love for our own interests and, especially, for God who is Love.  It is this Love that ultimately frees us from panic and fear.  We need to do what we can to open ourselves as fully as possible to this Love.

This is why I have argued, and continue to argue, that we need the Sacraments and, especially, the Mass and the Eucharist at this time.  Yes, we should follow flu protocols and take all reasonable precautions to safeguard ourselves and our loved ones.  However, we cannot deny or ignore our need for Love.  Our need for Christ.  He has told us that we need to eat His Flesh and drink His Blood so that we might have the fullness of His life in us.  Christians of past centuries believed that this need was so fundamental that it was worth risking their lives for it.  That has not changed.  We need the Lord, and we need to follow His own teaching of how we can best receive His love.  Who could know this better than Him?

I leave you with this in the hope that my insight – that our experience of this outbreak parallels autistic experience – will be helpful, as well as my sharing of what I have learned from this.  It may be that this outbreak is a time when people who may have been shunned as eccentric or lacking in social graces may have something most valuable to offer the world.

May the love of the Lord be with us, now and always!

To Recognize and Value the Autistic Members of the Body of Christ

by Aimée O’Connell

The shift from Mission of Saint Thorlak to Autism Consecrated may seem to have come quickly from the front-end point of view.  However, the people behind the websites have felt the need for changes for some time now.  Adopting a new name and look reflects far more than simply rebranding or moving to a permanent webhost.

“We” – that is, myself, Father Mark Nolette and the people who regularly engage with us – are acutely and personally aware of the need for a better discussion of the theology of autism.  Where does autism fit into God’s plan?  Where do autistic people fit into God’s plan?  It’s not that the questions need asking… these questions have been asked about autism and every other disabling condition for decades, if not centuries, in some form.  It’s more the fact that the answers have remained the same, and are just as unsatisfactory, starting with the conceptualization of “disability” itself.  When a person approaches the community, the wider Body of Christ, with a condition that requires particular accommodations to facilitate their engagement and participation, we can just as easily say the community is “handicapped” [definition: “having a circumstance that makes progress or success difficult”] as many still call people with needful circumstances.

It is usually not helpful to debate if autism is a disability because autistic people find that our success often hinges on the amount of support and understanding we receive from those around us.  Difficult tasks are not as challenging when others recognize and adapt to our needs, and simple tasks seem impossible when we are held to the standards of images we do not fit.

Where, when, why, how does this discussion enter our parish lives?  Our communities?  Our dioceses?   As we prayed about how to fulfill our call as “missionaries” of the themes we promoted on the former website, it became clear that the need goes all the way down to the very foundation of our faith as Christians.  We cannot support one another without first asking How is autism experienced in the Body of Christ?   The answer tends to vary quite widely.  Some communities are living, thriving models of such natural inclusion that it is evident their identity rests in Christ Himself, as described by St. Paul.  Other communities are not there yet, for numerous reasons which deserve exploration without presuming the worst conclusions.

People of all ages and walks of life have a habit of forgetting that God creates life from love and fulfills in perfection.  Humans, by comparison, make objects.  It is appropriate to evaluate these objects, and even the materials from which they are made, in terms of purpose, utility and quality.  God has no need of such assessment.  From perfection comes perfection; therefore, all that God creates is useful and purposeful by the mere fact that God is God.  We do well to keep that in mind when considering the value of including, understanding, inviting and adapting to the needs of one another, as individuals and as communities.  Exclusion arises when we slip into seeing one another in terms of what we can do, how well we function, or where we fit in… instead of recalling that we all bear the same value as children of God by virtue of our personhood.  People are not objects.  We do not have utility.  Perhaps we have skills and ideas which can be judged as useful or superfluous, but in terms of our membership in any community, we have all been endowed with inherent value by God.

And so, we come together as Autism Consecrated, to recognize and value the autistic members of the Body of Christ.

The Prayer of Consecration via Saint Thorlak

by Father Mark P. Nolette – Autistic Priest/Hermit

Many autistic people, as well as their families, friends, and other fellow Catholics, have found in Saint Thorlak a powerful and compassionate intercessor before the Lord.  Saint Thorlak, in his life, showed a number of personality traits that resemble autism.  Whether or not he was actually autistic – and many believe he was – these traits make him a very appropriate Saint to turn to for intercession and help before the Lord.

This prayer is intended primarily for autistic people who wish to consecrate their autism to God in the way of Saint Thorlak.  It may also be prayed by family members of people who are profoundly autistic and cannot say the words on their own.

Why would someone want to consecrate their own autism – or the autism of a loved one – to God, via Saint Thorlak? What is the point?

No matter where one is on the autism spectrum, to be autistic is to possess a combination of strengths and limitations that is unusual.  To be autistic is to feel isolated, misunderstood, even by some who truly love the autistic person.  To be autistic is to face the challenges of extreme sensitivities to various things, overwhelming surges of anxieties, and the abysses of depression.  On the other hand, to be autistic is to be able to love a certain interest with great focus and devotion.  It is to be one who seeks truth and integrity above all. It is to be someone who notices things that others do not. It is to be someone who is capable of great loyalty.  It is to be someone who is also capable of great compassion, even if that might not be expressed in the ways neurotypical people express it.

An autistic person who is baptized is no less a Catholic, no less a Christian, than anyone else. However, autistic people often feel misunderstood, incapable, unworthy and unwelcome even among fellow Catholics, for the reasons stated above and others.

This is where Saint Thorlak comes in. There are already many stories of autistic people who were led to their true calling in the Church by Saint Thorlak, even before they knew he existed. Others, in seeking his intercession, found their anxieties lessen so that they could take an important step in their lives.  Still others found renewed hope and a sense that they also belonged to the family of God.

By consecrating one’s own autism – or the autism of a loved one – to God in the way of Saint Thorlak, we open our hearts, minds and bodies to his blessing, intercession and guidance. We entrust ourselves to Saint Thorlak’s friendship, knowing that he will help us discover the power of God’s love in our weakness, uncover the gifts God has given us, and help us see how to put them to the service of others.  Saint Thorlak understands the unique challenges and blessings of autism.  His presence and intercession will be a great gift, and a means of God’s love, for all those who consecrate their autism with him.

Make this consecration only when you are ready.  If you are unsure about consecrating your own autism via Saint Thorlak, pray and ask for guidance.  You will know when the time has come.  If you are a family member and are concerned about making this consecration in someone else’s name, there is no need to worry.  Remember the people who brought the paralyzed man to Jesus.  The Gospels tell us that Jesus, when He saw their faith, healed the man.  Saint Thorlak can bless your autistic family member though you making this consecration in that person’s name.  He will also bless you and your whole family.

Here, then, is a Prayer of Consecration of Autism via Saint Thorlak.

 

Holy Thorlak,

I come before you as a Christian and an autistic person.

As a Christian, I seek to love the Lord with all my heart, with all my mind, with all my soul, with all my body, and with all my strength.  I seek to love my neighbor as myself.  I seek to see Christ in the least of my sisters and brothers, as He has taught me.  I seek to be close to Him always; close in prayer, close in the Sacraments, close as I read the Scriptures, close as I love others, close as I welcome the love of others for me. 

As an autistic person, I know that Christ is the Truth, the ultimate Source of all truth that I seek.  I know that God is Love.  When I love anything intensely, I am beginning to know it as God does.  I want to love as God does.  I can feel that love, but I don’t always know how to show it.  I don’t always know how to speak or act when I’m with other people.  I have to confront great anxieties and fears at times.  Certain sounds, smells, colors, or other things really hurt me and make it very hard for me to be with other people.  I don’t know all the social codes and misunderstand what others say, and they misunderstand what I say.  I often have a hard time knowing what I feel, let alone expressing my emotions. Some people see me as someone they would rather not be with, or someone who has nothing to offer.  I desperately want to do the right thing, but I often don’t know what the right thing is. 

Holy Thorlak, I need your help.  In your life, you had to struggle to speak and be understood.  You felt isolated and misunderstood. You felt anxieties and depression.  And yet, in your love of God you found strength in your weakness and became a compassionate shepherd to those whom God entrusted to your care. 

Holy Thorlak, I now entrust myself to your care.  I wish to consecrate my autism to God by following the way you exemplify.  I offer my weaknesses – my anxieties and fears, my depression and awkwardness, my sensitivities and my isolation.  I offer my gifts – my great love for my interests, my desire for truth and integrity, my passion for justice, and every other gift I have received from God.  I consecrate all of this, all that my autism has given me, to God.

Holy Thorlak, pray for me, that my autism may be a means of God’s love, wisdom and strength. Guide me and show me how I can best serve God and others through my autism. Show me how what I thought of as weakness, or what some people called weakness, is really a way for God to bless me and to bless many through me.

Holy Thorlak, I ask all of this of you that I might become a true follower of the Lord just as you were in your life.  Please pray for me to the Lord that He might bless me and bless others through me.  Let me be that mustard seed, that measure of yeast, that seemingly small and insignificant thing that becomes a great blessing by God’s love.  Let it all happen for your own mission, Holy Thorlak, and for God’s glory.  May Our Blessed Mother, Mary, and all the angels and saints join you in prayer for me as I consecrate my autism.

May it all be according to God’s Word, now and forever.

Amen.

 

Another Beginning

By Aimée O’Connell

Most of us associate Ash Wednesday with putting aside, going without, giving away and pruning back those distractions which have accumulated since (at least) the end of last Lent.  It seems an unusual choice for a website launch date, especially when screen use and social media are often among the first things we shave as we seek to get back to essentials.  Yet, here we are, unveiling AUTISM CONSECRATED, squarely on the first of Lent’s two strictest days of fasting and abstinence.  How so?  It is a question worth exploring, since it happens to coincide with other Ash Wednesdays of recent years.

In January of 2017, the need for spiritual support and direction specific to autism was yet unmet on a widespread basis.  I had a growing sense that the life and theology of St. Thorlak could help address this need, if only his story could be better known and understood.  I brought this to prayer by requesting a weekday Mass for this intention at my home parish.  I was offered the morning of March 1, and, in reaching for the right words to summarize my intention, I asked that the Mass be for “the mission of Saint Thorlak.”

Little did I realize that I would soon start building a website using that title, and that its launch date would coincide with the date of my Mass… and, that March 1 was also Ash Wednesday.  I marveled at how apt that St. Thorlak’s online debut coincided with the Church’s call to seek that path which will lead us closer to God.

Autistic theology is still a largely unbroken trail… meaning, it is not readily visible along the landscape, and takes significant determination to navigate.  The Mission of Saint Thorlak website has done a splendid job of commencing the journey and inviting others to travel along with us.  We have only been walking together three years, but we have made a significant start in defining this particular path, which we have come to call the Way of Saint Thorlak, and we have also made great headway in telling his story.  In fact, the opportunity to write (and eventually publish) a full biography of Saint Thorlak came, appropriately enough, on Ash Wednesday, 2018.  Another beginning!

It has become increasingly apparent that our trail is branching.  We are coming upon areas involving the larger community, and it is clear that we as autistics have both our own, distinct path and a common identity with the rest of the sojourners seeking the way to live in God’s love.  In short, we are all members of the Body of Christ.  The question has shifted from asking where we fit to wondering how the rest of the body interprets our being here.  We have the same Mission, with a different focus.

And so it is that we have taken the heart of the Mission of Saint Thorlak and placed it in the center of AUTISM CONSECRATED – our new website, and our new vision: to realize autism’s belonging in the Body of Christ.  Think of this as the same essential Mission from a new vantage point.  Over the next few weeks, we will highlight several of our website’s features, and then prepare to move forward once more on this yet-unbroken trail of autistic theology.

May this Ash Wednesday be, for all of us, another beginning.

Subscriber alert: ACAT Migration In Progress

A note to our subscribers (and all readers!) – the Annotated Catechism for Autistic Thinking, or ACAT, is being moved from the old site to our new home.  Please bear with us as these posts are placed, as this is going to hit like a wave in your inbox.  This is a one-time phenomenon which will allow future Annotated Catechism posts to integrate with our regular weekly thoughts from here on out.

Thank you for your patience!

ACAT 26: The Incarnation

“Incarnation” literally means “taking on flesh.”  Jesus’ Incarnation is that moment when God took on human flesh – fully God, fully human.  As with our discussion of the Holy Trinity, these tenets of the Catholic faith are impossible to state in the kind of factual terms we might use to describe the natural world.  The Catechism is not a scientific proof; it is an outline of what is offered when we accept the invitation to believe.  There are no words or experiences with which to relate supernatural realities beyond our own.  Instead, we are invited to believe in Jesus Christ, God-With-Us, God-Made-Flesh, as proof of God’s love of, and investment in, humanity.

Lesson Seven goes into much useful detail about why the Incarnation took place, and it is well worth reading.  [Link here and search “Lesson 7”].  But what of our annotation for autistic thinkers?  How do we truly make a connection with something this inexplicable, yet – especially at this point in December – visibly depicted everywhere we look?

The Annotated Catechism approaches matters of faith by asking, “What is being described?  How does this pertain to me as an individual, and what is my role?”  Simply: our role is to be human – to have a soul and a body, to have free will and curious intellect, deliberately and individually designed, and given by God.

Within that makeup, however, is the stain we inherited from our ancestors’ disobedience, resulting in a distrust of humanity’s goodness and doubt surrounding God’s designs.  God warned that the consequence of disobedience would be death… not immediately, but instead of enjoying perpetual blessing, disobedience forfeited our bodily protection from pollution, decay and death.

Few reflexes are as primal and universal as the way we recoil in the presence of rot and flinch at imminent death.  “Thriller” films and novels evoke adrenaline for some and horror in others, but the same instinct is at play.  Even as many of us believe firmly that crossing over is the pathway home to God, there is an instinctive bodily opposition to pain, suffering and, ultimately, death.  This brings us to that paradoxical statement we sometimes hear in the course of evangelization: “God was born so that he could die.”  In all truth, that is a good way to sum up the Incarnation.  We also hear that “The sinless Jesus bore the stain of sin for us.”  But what does that mean?

Bishop Thorlak of Iceland was deeply influenced by the theology of Hugh of St. Victor, who explains the Incarnation in systematic terms of God’s desire to break through our barrier of distrust with demonstrable love.  The following insights come from Hugh of St. Victor’s De Sacramentis, Book Two, Part One.

First, some relational definitions.  Since God is Creator of all and Authority over all that is created, He cannot obey, as there is no authority outside Himself.  He cannot be sent forth, as there is none who might send Him.  He cannot choose between right and wrong, because He is Truth and Knowledge itself. And, God cannot die, as He is all in all of all.

Next: Our relationship with God was broken when our first ancestors disobediently ate the fruit which awakened the choice of exploiting God’s goodness for our own, solitary gain.  This gave rise to vice, which is the natural consequence of sin, and brought bodily death upon the human race as the final means by which our disordered inclinations can cease to plague our senses.  Humans have no natural ability to liberate ourselves from this inherited pattern.

God, grieving this consequence, knew that the only way to change this sequence without unraveling the makeup of humanity would be to somehow graft our broken nature back into the Godly line.  The logistical problem is that our nature is human, not Divine; and only God is God.

While humans cannot become God, could God become human?  Technically yes, but that would require his radically changing form and abdicating His Divinity, which would disintegrate all of Creation.  In order to reverse the curse affected by our ancestors, God would need the capacity to freely choose and obey, which (as shown above) is not possible if he remains Divine.

However: A son bears the name and inherited essence of his father.  A son with a human nature can freely choose to obey.  A son can be sent to carry on a father’s mission and values, becoming his de facto representative where he is sent.

Thus, God did not come as Creator to our earthly plane.  He sent His Son, born human of a human mother, with a human soul, free will, and earthly flesh.  Being born of Mary, who was preserved from inherited (original) sin, the Son would not have the same fallen focus self-gratification that other humans have; yet He would physically exist within the parameters of humanity – including subjection to bodily decay and death.

So: God sent a Son, Jesus, bearing His nature, to the womb of a mother free of original sin, so that He could live as a human, and die as a human.  God’s Son would act to reverse our disobedience, completely innocent of any vice but still obedient to the bodily the penalty of sin – death.  It is the equivalent of an innocent man offering to take the sentence of a convicted criminal, and serving it faithfully to its completion.

But… why?

We offer this admittedly oversimplified, but hopefully helpful analogy, addressing the question of God taking on the stain of sin and subjecting Himself to bodily death. Imagine God as an endless body of life-giving water free of all pollution.  When humanity partook of sin, we became splattered and caked with toxic waste, with no way to purify ourselves.  Dwelling directly with the water of God was no longer an option for us as we would poison all of Creation with our presence… but at the same time, that water is the only means by which we can detoxify from the pollution of sin.

How can we solve this conundrum?  We can’t return to Him polluted, and if God Himself were to descend, He, being pure water, would devastate and drown us!  But what if this pure water (God) could supernaturally take human form?  He would be a living, infinite source of life-giving water, simultaneously existing as, and contained by, a physical human body.  As God, He would be free of our pollution… but, would willingly mingle with us, acquiring more of our stain each time He infuses us with life-giving water.  He will dilute our sinful inclinations, that is, our toxicity, to the degree we accept His gift.  Some of us shrink back and say we are too dirty to ever think of mingling with God… some say that pollution is not bad and prefer to remain in the toxic state… and some will draw water from God’s Son again and again, wishing one day to return to that state of grace our ancestors knew before the stain of sin came into our line.  God, for His part, gives without account, as often as we wish, as often as we trust, as often as we accept.  He always invites, and never forces.

[Following our analogy to its conclusion: God’s human body eventually succumbed to the effects of our pollution.  But, being supernatural, it was only the physical, earthly form that died.  God knew that an earthly body could not live forever in our realm, so He made provisions for that in His scenario, which would include resurrection and establishment of a wider body, The Church.  That is an entirely different discussion for future commentary!]

This is all little more than a sketch which cannot compare to the deeper theology at hand.  For here, for now, let us conclude by revisiting our thought, “What is the Incarnation?  How does it pertain to us, and what is our role?”  May we find our answer close in our hearts.

ACAT 25: Mary’s Unstained, Unflinching Love

Catholic teaching on Mary is often a dividing line with other Christians, though it need not be.  Those familiar with the historical story of Jesus will know that his mother was Mary and his birth came about through Divine intervention.  Catholics do not worship Mary, but we do recognize her role in the story of human salvation – which includes the salvation of each individual reading this – and we understand that she has received the grace and privilege which comes with a role such as hers.

That word, immaculate, derives from Latin, and means “not stained.”  Mary does not possess superpowers of her own merit; rather, she is as ordinary as any other person, but unstained by the splash of evil which spilled in the Garden when our ancestors’ eyes were opened to all that destroys love.  Unstained = unaffected, untainted… and therefore, unflinching in her ability to love God and love like God.

This is what the Baltimore Catechism says about Mary’s Immaculate Conception.

  1. Was anyone ever preserved from Original Sin?
  2. The Blessed Virgin Mary, through the merits of her divine Son, was preserved free from the guilt of Original Sin, and this privilege is called her Immaculate Conception.

The Blessed Virgin was to be the Mother of the Son of God. Now it would not be proper for the Mother of God to be even for one moment the servant of the devil, or under his power. If the Blessed Virgin had been in Original Sin, she would have been in the service of the devil. Whatever disgraces a mother disgraces also her son; so Our Lord would never permit His dear Mother to be subject to the devil, and consequently He, through His merits, saved her from Original Sin. She is the only one of the whole human race who enjoys this great privilege, and it is called her “Immaculate Conception,” that is, she was conceived—brought into existence by her mother—without having any spot or stain of sin upon her soul, and hence without Original Sin.

Our Lord came into the world to crush the power which the devil had exercised over men from the fall of Adam. This He did by meriting grace for them and giving them this spiritual help to withstand the devil in all his attacks upon them. As the Blessed Mother was never under the devil’s power, next to God she has the greatest strength against him, and she will help us to resist him if we seek her aid. The devil himself knows her power and fears her, and if he sees her coming to our assistance will quickly fly. Never fail, then, in time of temptation to call upon our Blessed Mother; she will hear and help you and pray to God for you.

Mary’s Immaculate Conception cannot be explained much more directly than the Catechism itself.  Many struggle to understand or believe what this means, as it is not something we can directly observe, experience or relate to.  It is, quite simply, a matter of faith – which is our willingness to accept things beyond our experiences with confidence that such belief does not compromise our freedom or integrity in any way.  Furthermore, it is a comfort to many to know that Mary is as human as we are, yet has the privilege to repulse evil with her prayer.  Evil is ugly.  Evil destroys.  Evil seeks to break up what is beautiful for the sake of jealousy.  Anyone who stands opposed to evil is on the side of what we’re all longing for.  The Catholic Catechism assures us that Mary is humankind’s advocate against the division and destruction of evil by virtue of her unstained, unflinching love.

ACAT 24: Capital Sins Through Autistic Lenses

The Baltimore Catechism lists seven “capital” sins as those which most blatantly present obstacles to our ability to trust God’s love.  The term “capital,” as used here, comes from the same root as “captain,” which is a useful image of how temptations work.  Beyond choices on a flow chart, each temptation acts like an enemy captain determined to undermine our loyalty to God.  These “captains” subvert our trust in God by introducing resentment, jealousy and doubt to our daily doings.  In theory, any temptation we name might be an agent of such things, depending on the circumstances.  Even innocuous or essential items can subvert our love of God if viewed or used wrongly.

At any rate, these are the capital sins (or, chief temptations leading to sin) as listed in the Baltimore Catechism:

  • Pride
  • Covetousness
  • Lust
  • Anger
  • Gluttony
  • Envy
  • Sloth

We now look at each temptation as viewed through the lens of living with autism.

Pride.  Most of us are familiar with “pride” as a positive statement of celebrating our gifts.  As embodied by social movements, pride is a way to showcase the best of who we are, as we are.  However, we are vulnerable to two detrimental mindsets: competition, and focus on strength.  The first can be avoided if we agree that every person has gifts worth celebrating — even those who do not share the particular views, attributes or talents we celebrate in ourselves.  Unless we recognize that everyone has something valuable to contribute, we turn celebration into competition. “Pride” done right is about our gifts, not superiority.  Secondly, we must include our weaker and less developed areas in presenting our gifts, lest we fall victim to the mindset that our worth comes only from our strengths – or worse, that we must minimize or camouflage our weak spots.  Finally, we can find ourselves reluctant to celebrate others because of their strengths (jealousy) or because of their weakness (doubt).  In all things, let our “pride” be in God’s designs and not our own desires.

Covetousness is the habit of looking unhappily at ourselves and resentfully at the gifts of others.  Thoughts like these are common temptations and not sinful unto themselves; it is in entertaining them, and acting on them, that sin comes in.  We are especially vulnerable when conditions are hard, when people are unkind, and when exhaustion sets in.  When we find ourselves depleted, marginalized or overlooked, it seems all the more unfair that others are favored.  Why are some people more easily accepted?  Better able to function?  Better liked?  Temptation is ripe when we focus on the status of others.  The antidote is remembering that social capital is an illusion of perception, not a reflection of our objective worth.  Opinions change like the wind.  Our value is constant.  If we can persevere through fluctuations in opinions, we are less likely to wish for more than what we are.

Lust is a word we most associate with sexuality.  However, it applies to anything we wish to take for ourselves, without giving anything in return, for our pleasure alone.  In the throes of a craving, resentment, jealousy and doubt can sharpen the sense of scarcity while our focus (possibly even fixation) drives us to act.  Lust underlies most addictive and predatory behavior, whatever the gratification may be – food, money, sex, power or social status.  We resent the craving, we are jealous of anyone who has what we want, and we doubt anything else can satisfy.  Lust is the opposite of trust, and the opposite of love.  Lust not only harms the other, but the powerful rush of gratification sets up habits which are very difficult to change.  The antidote is actively cultivating gratitude for what we have, trusting that God will provide what will bring us true joy over the long term, not just momentary pleasure.  As lust develops by habit, so too does this mindset of gratitude.

Anger  A sin? Not by itself.  Anger is a human emotion, and part of our design by God.  Anger is a useful and essential part of relationships and moral development.  How else could we express outrage against aggression or violations of human dignity?  Anger is a signal of wrong, a stir to corrective action and a protection against harm.  Anger only becomes sinful when it is the product of resentment, jealousy and doubt.  Dissatisfaction with what we are, or focus on what we are not, is more rooted in fear than justice.  It may feel the same as useful anger, but the object of such resentment ultimately is God and His designs conflicting with ours.  An honest look can tell whether or not we are drawing closer to God or departing from Him in our moments of anger, and that will determine if it is useful or sinful.

Gluttony is the temptation to take more than we need.  It goes back to scarcity, which is rooted in doubt.  Some of us genuinely struggle with knowing when we are satisfied and when we are not.  Autistics in particular can have a tricky time moderating things that feel good, especially as they provide periods of relief to our perpetual anxiety.  Sometimes we genuinely need others to suggest where healthy limits are so that we concretely see the cutoff between just enough and too much of whatever we enjoy — be that food, drink, music, screen time, reading, and anything else that delights us.  A quick rule is: if our joy lingers after we stop, it’s more likely to be healthy than if putting it down makes us fret about craving more.

Envy is the temptation to resent other people’s happiness.  When we are anxious and exhausted, it is challenging to see others at rest and not feel anger or hopelessness at our own condition.  Autism is not for the faint of heart, and gratitude when our very bodies feel constantly under siege can be a long shot.  How, then, can we counter this temptation?  One thought is to remember that nobody is ever perfectly happy.  In the same way our own struggles are often invisible, others also struggle unseen with their own hidden needs.  It is important to remember that we are not losing the race if someone else is where we want to be; we simply are not there yet.  Sometimes, we need to remind ourselves these things hour by hour.

Sloth.  Given this word’s association with laziness, we need to make the distinction between willful inactivity and actual, legitimate conditions under which autistic people are called unproductive.  Lack of energy is a reality among autistics for numerous reasons: the drain of social demands, decreased muscle tone, variances in blood pressure and metabolism, migraines, connective tissue anomalies and chronic pain, just for starters.  These are actual physical, cognitive and neurological conditions associated with autism and have nothing to do with our character.  In fact, most autistics, if asked, will express the wish for more energy and the ability to do things on par with the rest of our communities!  Sloth is the choice not to act when action is needed and we are capable of acting.  It is up to each one of us to know in our hearts and minds what our capability is – and to be honest with ourselves in making these decisions.  When we live congruently within our abilities and our limits, we have nothing to fear… and, we can (hopefully, politely) dismiss unwarranted criticism with a clear conscience.

The capital sins are by no means the last word on right and wrong, nor do they contain everything we need to consider when examining the morality of our own behavior.  However, if we see these as some of the more common gateways toward seeking pleasure before seeking God’s design first, they make a useful starting point.

ACAT 23: Departures from God

Our discussion on sin continues this week in step with the Baltimore Catechism, Lesson Six.  As we study various examples of sin, we can equally call this a study of our human faculties and how we respond to the opportunities which come our way.

God desires a firm and freely chosen place in the heart and mind of each soul He creates.  Our hearts and minds are distracted, however, by the knowledge of evil which we now inherit as part of the human condition.  The degree to which we dwell upon these distractions is one indicator of how fully we trust and accept God in relationship to ourselves.

The Catechism explains that sin is a willful – that is, freely chosen – departure from God.  This can be done by thought, by word or by deed.  As we consider this in terms of relationship, we can call to mind similar dynamics in any of our existing relationships, be these friends or family, neighbors or coworkers.  Imagine those elements which cause friction and erosion in our relationships.  Thoughts by themselves are not harmful, nor necessarily sinful, until we nurture and entertain thoughts which breed unrest.   Feelings are valid.  Thoughts come and go.  Many times, people act in irritating ways.  We can think and feel a hundred different ways toward the same person throughout any given day, but these thoughts will not erode our relationship with this person unless they take a practiced, divisive turn.  Likewise, if we are tempted by ideas that would lead to harm or use the other person as an object for our own thrill, we can choose to dismiss these thoughts or retain them.  If we retain them, we can well imagine how the other person would feel if these ideas were suddenly made transparent.  Thoughts which erode relationships and cultivate resentment tend to be sinful.  And, since thoughts lay the foundation for attitudes and behavior, then words and deeds logically follow suit.  Any thought, word or action which knowingly erodes and divides reflects a departure from God’s intended design for humanity.

The question of “Yes, but is it sinful?” boils down to three factors, as the Catechism goes on to explain: seriousness of the matter at hand, degree of prior reflection, and our consent to the departure from God.  These are truths which can only fully be acknowledged deep within ourselves, and even then it can be difficult to reach absolute certainty.  The Catholic Church is very clear: sin exists, and all sin destroys our ability to trust and experience God.  A departure which meets all criteria – a serious matter which we have pondered and consent to carrying out – is considered a mortal sin, in that it is a full break from God that requires our repentance and renunciation to repair if we truly do not want to forfeit our relationship with God completely.  “Mortal,” in this sense, literally refers to the life of our soul.  Not every sin is this dire.  The majority of departures from God are venial, which comes from roots meaning “pardonable,” and refers to sin that stems more from weakness in the face of temptation than from calculated disavowal of God.  This is not to diminish the erosive power of venial sin.  Anyone can attest that a relationship can be just as easily destroyed by small erosion over time as by a single catastrophic break.

Readers will likely note that our study has not included any specific list of dos or don’ts.  God’s law is not a list of rules, so it would not be practical to list what is sinful and what is not.  God does not dole out permission or watch over humanity with a running count of our infractions.  God exists, and God loves.  We either trust His love or we skirt around it, sometimes outright deny it.  There are as many ways to depart from God as there are individuals who depart from Him.  Sin is about our soul’s relationship with God, bottom line.

The good news is that God’s relationship with us is constant and alive.  If we depart from Him, He waits for our return without abandoning or condemning us.  And, He has given us a clear and definitive way back for each and every instance of departure.  No soul is ever without the opportunity to be restored to the relationship God intended with us from the beginning.