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

 

 

 

 

 

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.

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

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.

Autism does not exist independent of those who bear the traits qualifying them for that description. Autism only exists in the context of a common humanity: the autistic persons + how they are valued by the community. Click to Tweet
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.