Autism Consecrated®

Tag: catholic

  • Guest post: Deacon Mark Paine responds to “Strange Vocations” by Word on Fire’s Mark Bradford

    Link to original post: https://deaconmarkblog.wordpress.com/2026/09/07/a-response-to-strange-vocations-a-new-and-welcomed-conversation-about-priestly-eligibility-by-mark-bradford/

     

    I read Mark Bradford’s article, ‘Strange Vocations: A New and Welcomed Conversation About Priestly Eligibility’, with great interest. The fact that Catholic commentators are now openly discussing the possibility that autistic and other neurodivergent men might be called to ordained ministry represents real progress. For too long, disability and neurodiversity have been treated as barriers to vocation rather than as dimensions of human experience through which God may call people to serve His Church.
    Yet as an autistic deacon, I found myself uncomfortable with some of the assumptions contained in the article, and the language used to describe autistic people.

    The article welcomes discussion about admitting men with autism, ADHD and other conditions which the report it discusses describes as “significant formative deficits”. While the author is quoting the terminology of the report, the effect is nevertheless significant. Autism is immediately framed as a deficit, a lack, a problem requiring careful management.

    Many autistic people would challenge this description. I certainly would.

    Autism certainly brings challenges. I know this from lived experience. I have experienced severe anxiety, exhaustion from masking, and a lifelong sense of being somehow “wrong”. Yet autism is not simply a collection of deficits. It is a way of experiencing, processing and engaging with the world. It shapes how I encounter God, how I listen to people, and how I understand vulnerability and marginalisation. To speak of autism principally through the language of deficit risks overlooking the gifts and insights that autistic people bring to the Church.

    More fundamentally, I believe the article asks the wrong question.

    The central question appears to be whether autistic people can be suitable candidates for priesthood. But from an autistic perspective, the more important question may be whether seminary formation is capable of recognising and nurturing autistic vocations in the first place.

    Throughout my own formation, I often feared that autism would be regarded as a deal-breaker. Every assessment felt like a test of whether I could successfully perform neurotypical expectations. I worried that difference would be mistaken for deficiency. The problem was not a lack of vocation. The problem was an environment that often assumed one particular way of communicating, learning, socialising and expressing competence.

    This distinction matters.

    Too often, discussions about autistic candidates focus on what autistic people might lack rather than examining the institutional structures that create barriers. The unspoken assumption is that the candidate must adapt to the formation system. Rarely do we ask whether the formation system itself requires adaptation.

    If seminaries reward eye contact, social confidence, rapid verbal responses and ease in unfamiliar social situations, they may inadvertently be assessing conformity to neurotypical behaviour rather than fitness for ordained ministry. An autistic candidate may be judged as lacking “human formation” when in reality he is carrying an exhausting burden of masking and anxiety simply to appear acceptable.

    Another concern is the article’s reliance on the concept of the “ideal” candidate.

    The article acknowledges that considering autistic men for priesthood challenges existing assumptions about what an ideal seminarian looks like. But some autistic readers may ask why such an ideal exists at all. The Gospel consistently overturns human expectations concerning who is suitable for ministry. The Church is served not by a single personality type but by people with diverse gifts, weaknesses and experiences.

    Autistic priests and deacons may bring qualities that are especially valuable in ministry: honesty, authenticity, attention to detail, deep commitment to truth, and solidarity with those who feel excluded or misunderstood. These should not be regarded as compensations for disability but as genuine pastoral gifts.

    Perhaps the most significant omission in the wider conversation is the relative absence of autistic voices themselves.

    We have become accustomed to experts discussing autistic people, assessing autistic people and developing policies about autistic people. What is too often missing are the voices of autistic Catholics describing their own experiences of vocation, formation and ministry. Discussions about inclusion become more authentic when those with lived experience are not merely consulted, but placed at the centre of the conversation.

    The future of this discussion should therefore move beyond questions of eligibility.

    The Church should certainly discern candidates carefully. Not everyone is called to ordained ministry, autistic or otherwise. But the goal cannot simply be to determine whether autistic people can fit into existing structures. The deeper challenge is whether our structures themselves reflect the Church’s belief that every person is made in the image of God.

    Formation should not require autistic people to hide who they are. It should help them become more fully themselves in Christ. A truly Catholic approach to formation would recognise neurodiversity not as a problem to be overcome, but as one of the many ways in which God’s image is reflected in humanity.

    The question before us is not merely whether autistic people belong in seminaries. The question is whether seminaries and formation programmes are prepared to become places where autistic people can genuinely belong, flourish and respond to the call of God without first having to disguise the people God created them to be.

    https://www.wordonfire.org/articles/strange-vocations-a-new-and-welcomed-conversation-about-priestly-eligibility/

  • Autism and the Imago Dei

    Autism and the Imago Dei

    Guest blog post by Deacon Mark Paine of the Archdiocese of Birmingham, UK

    Deacon Mark Paine, who himself is autistic, is developing a Catholic theological understanding of neurodivergence. In this post, he reflects upon autism and how it reflects the Image and Likeness of God.

    I have been reflecting on the Imago Dei—that we are made in the image and likeness of God.

    It is a phrase we use often.

    In sermons.
    In teaching.
    In conversation.

    And rightly so.

    But I am not sure we have fully reckoned with what it means when we speak of autism.

    Because there remains, even now, an assumption—sometimes quiet, sometimes more visible—that autism is something separate from the person.

    Something additional.
    Something regrettable.
    Something to be accommodated, if not overcome.

    But that is not how autism is lived.

    It is not at the edges.

    It is woven through the whole of a person’s life.

    Through how the world is encountered.
    Through how others are understood.
    Through how God is sought.

    And that matters.

    Because if we are to speak truthfully as the Church, we cannot say that autistic people bear the image of God apart from their autism.

    We must say, more plainly, that they bear the image of God as they are.

    Anything less begins to divide the person.

    And that is not a Christian way of seeing.

     

    The diaconal calling is, at its heart, a ministry of attention.

    To notice.
    To stand alongside.
    To serve at the place where Christ is already present, often unrecognised.

    And it seems to me that this is precisely where autism meets the Church.

    Not as a problem to be solved.

    But as a presence to be recognised.

    Because there is, within autistic experience, a particular kind of attentiveness.

    A concern for truth.
    A resistance to pretence.
    A willingness—sometimes costly—to remain with what is real rather than what is merely expected.

    That does not always sit comfortably within our patterns of church life.

    But discomfort is not the same as absence.

    So perhaps the question is a simpler one than we sometimes make it.

    Not whether autistic people can be included.

    But whether we are prepared to see what is already there.

    And that may take time.

    It may take a willingness to look again at things we have taken for granted.

    It may mean recognising that what appears unfamiliar is not therefore lacking.

    But if the Imago Dei is truly present—
    then it is already there to be seen.

    And perhaps, quietly,
    to be received.

    For more reflections by Deacon Mark, visit his blog, Marcus Diaconus

  • Autism As Mission

    Autism As Mission

    We have written previously that autistic people are less likely to attend Mass than non-autistic people (e.g., our 2023 post, “Raise Your Hand If You’re Not Here”).

    Our Daily Prayer for Autism’s Belonging for the Second Wednesday of Lent reads like this: “We pray for our autistic members who are not able to participate in Church liturgies and activities. May our autistic members be genuinely missed when absent. May we prayerfully consider what the barriers might be to their participation, and what the community can do to help address and relieve those.”

    Which barriers might come to mind?

    • Sensory load
    • Health (both mental and physical)
    • Energy level (vs. exhaustion)
    • Quality of sleep (vs. chronic sleep deficit)
    • Executive functioning
    • Access to transportation

    While each of these is relevant, if we are to be completely honest, we need to go further and acknowledge that – consciously or not – the community’s attitude toward neurodiversity is often the biggest and most difficult barrier. People may say outwardly that they welcome and encourage people of all abilities to come to Mass, but there remains a deep interior skepticism that autism is anything more than pop psychology’s attempt to stylize laziness and apathy toward decorum. These attitudes are not only grossly incorrect, but also do nothing to build up the Body of Christ. If anything, autistic members are isolated and wounded by this barrier more than all the others combined.

    Ask any autistic person: If we were able to overcome such barriers as these through our own efforts and willpower, we would do so. Trying harder is not enough – and not within our grasp. Telling ourselves not to feel [exhausted, overwhelmed, anxious] is as useless as telling our cars to keep going when the fuel gauge reads “empty.” Our capacities and limits are what they are, and pushing past them is harmful, period. Those who encourage us to do so are operating on faulty, outdated, and disproven information.

    Some have become so accustomed to the idea that merit is earned by acting well that they confuse patience and compassion for “special treatment.” But accommodations for autistic people are no more indulgent (or optional) than the “special treatment” shown by, say, bandaging and resting a sprained ankle… or by using supplemental oxygen when scuba diving.

    Autistic people really do want to be present and participate. If we can’t remove the barriers for ourselves, what can we do?

    Trust that we serve God best as our authentic selves, needs and all.

    Diverting our energy from trying to live past our means starts by trusting God’s wisdom. Our capacities and limitations were designed, with purpose, by Our Creator. Trust that God intends some members of the Body of Christ to process at a different pace, to be deeply affected by what we see and hear and taste and ponder, and, yes, to need patience and assistance from others as a result of our body’s design. Trust that God calls even those of us whom the world writes off to be disciples. Believe that the fruit of this discipleship is cultivated in part by the extra time, extra space and extra understanding which will allow us to be present and contribute.

    It requires this same trust to ask and expect the community to help us in our needs, and that is how offering our autism – by just being our authentic selves –  becomes mission work, even when that  mission brings us to confront the situations which  find us:

    – misunderstood, unseen, or unheard by our community

    – unaccommodated, despite repeated asking

    – unable to participate, especially when large groups are our only option

    – asking more questions than people would like

    – overwhelmed and dysregulated, even when we are doing the best we can

    In other words, the mission of being autistic includes challenging the way our communities respond to differences and disabilities, and living in such a way as to break the stereotypes perpetuating the misunderstanding and isolation which keep us from fully realizing our vocations as disciples.  When we focus on suppressing and hiding our autistic traits, we miss out (and so does the entire community) on what happens when we put that energy instead into being who God made us to be – which St. Catherine of Siena says will set the world ablaze with God’s grace!

    Lord, let us be a sign by which stereotypes can be challenged. May our communities appreciate why we wear ear defenders and tinted glasses to Mass, and why we might sit in a separate place with additional sensory supports.  May our fellow parishioners experience God’s grace when lowering the lights, reducing the volume, and providing space which helps autistic people engage much more fully in worship. May our autistic discipleship be a source of grace and blessing to our communities.

    Lord: Hear our prayer!

     

  • A Word On Our Daily Prayers For Autism’s Belonging in the Body of Christ

    A Word On Our Daily Prayers For Autism’s Belonging in the Body of Christ

    Those who are praying along with our daily intentions this Lent will notice that each day’s prayer examines an aspect of neurodiversity which many may not have considered. We are seeking to shift the stereotyped sense of autism as problematic symptoms and misbehavior toward a deeper realization that autistic expressions are very human, very functional ways people respond and attempt to cope when our processing system is flooded. Most people know what it’s like to feel overloaded. The difference is, autistic people’s processing systems reach capacity at a higher frequency, and overload when we are asked to keep pushing. Our bodies absorb every bit of data from our surroundings at once, filling all available processing slots quickly to capacity without the benefit of extra time to sort it all out. As with the famous chocolate factory scene from “I Love Lucy”, we do what we can to keep up, but pretending we are fine only makes things worse. Unless that conveyor belt slows down or we get the support we need to finish, we know how this is going to end. Except – for autistic people – we’re not laughing. More like, it is devastating, each and every time. It is exhausting. It is humiliating to have to ask for help, all the time… and, it’s even more so when we are met with those who think the way to help us is to shape our behavior for us. “Try harder! You can do it if you really apply yourself!” – No. We can’t.

    But here’s what we want to convey: Any person’s capacity to participate in anything – including social activities, learning environments, and worship services – requires the ability to process information and engage with others. When our sensory systems are bombarded with more input than we can process, autistic or not, our bodies shift from relaxed participation to high alert.  If we do not take time and space to catch up with what we are already processing, our fight/flight/freeze reflexes start acting like circuit breakers, systematically shutting down extraneous processes (such as social graces, small talk, and creative thinking) as a last-ditch effort to keep our processing afloat. Most of us can recall a time when we felt frazzled by too many people speaking at once or too many demands coming in at the same time. If someone approaches us right then with a bit of unrelated conversation or unsolicited advice, we can well imagine what our response might look like… and, most neurotypical people would make plenty of allowance for why this is reasonable. Why, then, is it unreasonable when autistic people experience this (which we do)? Hint: It’s not unreasonable. It just happens more frequently, and more intensely, because our loads are constantly full, and traditionally, people have been told to “help” us by making us struggle. These prayers are intended, in part, to show the other side of this.

    The crucial point to remember: Neurodivergent minds are flooded with simultaneous processing tasks, all the time. The way we look, sound, act, and cope, is a reflection of how well – or not – we are able to keep up with those processes at any given moment.

    Corollary: The degree of assistance, patience, and accommodations we receive from others around us helps determine the ease with which we can participate and engage with others.

    Autistic people deal with this all day, every day. It is not something that can be trained out of us. We can’t be cajoled into doing better. We look and act the way we do because we are at capacity, all the time, even when other people are not.

    Why do we take such deliberate care in phrasing our intentions? In hopes of helping the wider Church see that autistic traits are not moral failings, and are not conquerable with the right attitude. Autistic traits are expressions of the same Body of Christ in which we are all members. Our experiences are more intense, and our capacities are reached sooner and more frequently than neurotypical members. The point to remember is that our needs are the same human needs as the rest of the Body – not subhuman needs, as original models of autism would lead us to believe, and not willfully lazy, self-absorbed, oppositional, or anti-social.

    The extra time, extra space, extra patience, and gentler environments which autistic people utterly need to participate in ordinary things of life are arguably conditions which benefit anyone. Who among us does not feel a bit of relief when someone shows us empathy and helps us out when we are struggling? Which then begs the question: why are so many people so reluctant to allow these things? Why is slowing down, making things easier, and softening the sensory environment seen as “giving in” instead of giving the Body an oasis of desperately needed neurological rest, where all of us – including and especially autistic people –  can heal?

     

    Lord, Hear Our Prayer!

  • Lenten Resolutions

    Lenten Resolutions

    by Aimée O’Connell

     

    With the season of Lent just up ahead, I would like to offer Autism Consecrated’s take on Lenten resolutions. Boiled down, these would be something like this:

    • Learn about my neurobiological infrastructure
    • Live within my neurobiological means
    • Patiently, politely, cheerfully refuse* to exceed those means
    • Consecrate my neurodivergence to God, offering Him all that I am, that I may bear witness to autism’s belonging in the Body of Christ

    (* This phrase, “cheerfully refuse,” is a direct nod to the title used by Leif Enger in his 2024 novel. That wording captures how I strive to face confrontation when trying to be faithful to my needs, and I express my sincere gratitude for his giving the world that phrase.)

    Awhile back, I was asked in an interview what advice I might give to autistic individuals and families who are seeking to strengthen their connections to God and their faith communities. My response from then fits very well with the way I recommend forming our Lenten resolutions.

    First: Understand what autism is, and what it is not.  Learn about autism from neuroaffirming sources and from fellow autistic people. 

    Second: Consider that the autistic neurotype is part of God’s design, and contemplate the intentionality of that being part of our lives.  How have the autistic aspects of our lives shaped us, and how have they shaped the people around us? 

    Third: Consider consecrating our autism to God, that He may lead us to where we will be most fruitful, exactly as we are.

    Fourth: Be forthright with our needs. The more comfortable we are with our limitations, the more others will become comfortable supporting them. It takes mutual, voluntary humility to admit when we don’t know what to do but are willing to support one another in figuring that out together. 

    Fifth: Never forget that God loves us and knows our limitations. So long as we sincerely desire to grow ever closer to God, we cannot let Him down or disappoint Him simply because we are neurodivergent or are struggling to keep up with the obligations and demands on our processing. 

    Sixth: Keep the conversation going as long as it takes for the people in our parishes to better understand and support its autistic members of all ages, not just children.  And: Remember that starting a “conversation” does not necessarily require speaking or depend on traditional communication. It was St. Francis who said we do well to preach the Gospel at all times, but use words only when necessary… and it was the one-person-at-a-time example of St. Thorlak, not his words, which comprised his legacy and led to his canonization. Being authentically and cheerfully who we are, autistic and all, is mission work to the rest of the Church.

    Once again this year, Autism Consecrated is offering Daily Intentions for Autism’s Belonging in the Body of Christ as a season-long deep-dive into various aspects of neurodivergence, seeking in prayer to build better understanding of and support for neurodiversity in our parish communities. These daily reflections serve as a prayer for the Church, but can also be a means of learning more about our neurobiological infrastructure, in line with the Lenten resolutions suggested above. The Daily Prayers for Autism’s Belonging are free for individuals and groups (including parishes) to pray, print, download and share.

    Likewise, The Scriptural Stations of the Cross for Autistic People by autistic Catholic priest Fr. Mark Nolette are based on his firsthand experiences and a desire to unite the gifts and challenges of neurodivergence to the suffering and redemption of Jesus. This devotion may be accessed directly on our website or downloaded in print and audio formats (English).

    And then, the Prayer to Consecrate Autism is also on our website, free to access and download and pray for ourselves or on behalf of someone close to us.

    Let us all pray that the upcoming season of Lent will be fruitful for all of us, in the ways we need that most.

     

     

     

     

     

  • Prayers for World Autism Day 2024

    Prayers for World Autism Day 2024

    In recognition of World Autism Day 2024, we are pleased to offer a Short Form of our Prayer Petitions for Autism’s Belonging in the Body of Christ. The Short Form is, like the full list, free to download, print, copy and share for any use, individually or in groups, including adaptation for Prayers of the Faithful at daily or weekly Mass. Likewise, this post may also be shared freely, that people in communities far and wide may join with us in prayer!

    Download Page for short form: https://autismconsecrated.com/prayers-for-autism-belonging-short-form/

    Download Page for full list: https://autismconsecrated.com/autism-consecrated-prayer-intentions-any-dates-2/

    The short form is as follows.

    Prayers For Autism’s Belonging in the Body of Christ

    Heavenly Father, we offer these prayers to You, that we may humbly recognize where we stand, and where we fall short, in supporting the autistic community. We ask You to give us the grace of healing and reconciliation where wounds and division exist.

    May we:

    • Realize, and counteract, language and attitudes which stigmatize and pathologize autism
    • See autistic social, emotional, and cognitive processing as equal in dignity to neurotypical processing
    • Design our space such that autistic people are not expected to mask, suppress or replace neurodivergent traits
    • Grow in empathy toward the experiences of autistic individuals
    • Embrace a spirit of humility, repentance and curiosity as we acknowledge where we still lack understanding and comprehension of the autistic experience, including:
      • Communication (including non-spoken communication)
      • Sensory processing and overload
      • Emotional processing, alexithymia, and hyperempathy
      • Information processing and overload
      • Performance pressure, social rejection, and exclusion
      • Hidden co-occurring conditions such as dyspraxia, dysautonomia, joint hypermobility, migraine, food sensitivity
    • Appreciate the presence of autistic members of the community, realizing that it is not possible to know if someone is or is not autistic by assumption, and that autism is present in all age groups
    • Ponder how many neurodivergent people in our community cannot be present because of a lack of support, and how we can extend to them the chance to authentically belong
    • Strive to make our community accessible, welcoming, and accepting to neurodivergent people
    • See the obstacles which prevent or impede neurodivergent people from being present in our community
    • Invite neurodivergent people in our community to lead, rather than be led; teach, rather than be taught; explain things to us, rather than be told how things are
    • Promote a culture of neurodiversity
    • Look to autistic members of the community for guidance and suggestions on how to support and maintain accessibility and regular participation by neurodivergent individuals
    • Outwardly demonstrate how striving to make our community more accessible to autistic members benefits everyone

    May we seek forgiveness for the times we have:

    • Perpetuated inaccurate and unhelpful stereotypes
    • Allowed fear and pride to limit our generosity, creativity, and hospitality
    • Cited scarcity of resources in upholding the status quo
    • Relied on numbers to justify or deny accommodations, rather than upholding the value of the individual
    • Made assumptions or decisions for autistic individuals without their input
    • Failed to believe an autistic person’s experience
    • Turned an autistic person away from our community for being autistic
    • Lectured an autistic person about the unsuitability or inconvenience of their needs
    • Failed to include, invite, or respond to autistic individuals in community activities
    • Passed over an autistic person for volunteer or leadership positions, for the sake of their autism
    • Cast autistic traits as character flaws
    • Allowed convenience, popular opinion, fear, or jealousy to influence how we respond to requests for accommodations and accessibility
    • Required autistic individuals to suppress, mask, or eliminate neurodivergent traits in order to participate or belong

    We ask this all in Jesus’ Name: Lord, hear our prayer!

    AMEN.

     

    Thank you for praying with us!

  • Domestic Prayer Missionaries of Saint Thorlak

    Domestic Prayer Missionaries of Saint Thorlak

    Tomorrow (14 December) begins the Novena in Honor of Saint Thorlák, prayed during the nine days leading up to his feast day of 23 December.

    This year, we would like to suggest praying this novena as a spiritual bouquet to the clergy serving in the Diocese of Reykjavik: offering our prayers for the intentions and wellbeing of its sixteen priests, one deacon and one seminarian.

    This bouquet reflects the prayer on a regular basis throughout the year by the Domestic Prayer Missionaries of Saint Thorlák, a volunteer corps of missionaries-in-place whose work is to pray from where we are, in our current circumstances, in our present states of body and mind.  We are “domestic,” meaning, staying in place; we pray from wherever we are able to be, transforming “everywhere” into one, common household, one family of God: “Domestic” Missionaries of St. Thorlák do our work from within the “home” of God’s Household. This Domestic form of missionary work differs from that of missionaries who leave home to do their work elsewhere, publicly.

    The Domestic Prayer Missionaries’ focus is prayer in any way we are capable, including all forms of communication: fully spoken, low speaking, variably spoken and non-speaking. Our prayer takes the form of however we best express our hearts and intentions to God, in the place best suited to our abilities: at home, in chapel, outdoors; standing, kneeling, sitting, walking; wherever we connect fully with God at any given moment. Many Domestic Missionaries spend their time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, but others may pray better in motion. Some “practice the presence of God” throughout the day, offering as we go, and some simply focus on the breath in prayer (e.g., breathe in “My Jesus,” breathe out “Mercy”) to create a “chapel of the heart” wherever we happen to be. Domestic Missionary prayer deliberately minimizes physical and social demands to keep our efforts focused on prayer. We draw special inspiration from the ways of Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, whose Practice of the Presence of God is an excellent model for anyone, in any state of ability or disability, to offer prayers efficaciously and sincerely alongside those called to more conventional and active forms of missionary work.

    To learn more about the Domestic Prayer Missionaries of Saint Thorlák, or to become a Prayer Missionary yourself, download our prayer manual or contact us at AutismConsecrated.Com.

     

    Domestic Missionaries of Saint Thorlak – Prayer Booklet

     

     

  • We Interrupt This Lent…

    We Interrupt This Lent…

    by Aimée O’Connell

     

    Nearly three weeks into the Lenten season, I come to our readers with the following string of thoughts, under the category heading: NOTHING WE HAVE EVER HEARD ABOUT LENT WAS IMAGINED WITH NEURODIVERSE INDIVIDUALS IN MIND.

    (Okay… since I am a stickler for avoiding absolutes, let’s say “Almost Nothing.”)

     

    While the better time to post this might have been before Lent began, there’s something to be said about solidarity in the trenches.  By “trenches,” I mean the places where we find the people who…

    • Are still trying to think of what to do for Lent
    • Have tried adding things but have not yet made it happen consistently
    • Have tried giving things up but realize we don’t function well without them
    • Have sat staring at examinations of conscience and wondered when we will ever find one that applies to our lives
    • Have abandoned stacks of planners, devotionals, penitential calendars and mini-retreats which seemed like a great idea when we picked them up
    • Find Lent JUST TOO MUCH

     

    Maybe this doesn’t apply to you (… congrats!).  Or, maybe you’re reading this and thinking this is not exclusively an autism or ADHD thing (… but I will say, even if that’s the case, I guarantee, we feel it much more intensely!)  Bottom line is, I don’t see much written about the particular challenges of Lent for the neurodiverse, and so, for those who find Lent penitential for the sake of its being unattainable: you are not alone!

     

    My intention here is not to say that Lent should be jettisoned altogether, or that neurodiverse people should be dispensed from Lent.  What I do wish is that we could have some real resources available for the neurodiverse, a list of Lent Hacks for us to familiarize ourselves with and practice here and there so that when the actual season rolls around, we have something proven to work with.  I don’t claim to have the answers, but I do have a growing list of thoughts.

     

    For starters: We need to define Lent consistently and concisely.  What IS Lent?  We know it is a time of prayer, fasting and almsgiving, intended to remind us that our purpose in life is to love God with all our hearts, minds, souls and strength, and to pattern our lives around loving God, particularly in how we treat others.  Some will say it is a time to steer our focus back to God and away from the distractions of worldly entertainments and luxuries.  Some will say it is a time to make room for God amidst the clutter of our lives.  Some will say it is a time to discard the things that tempt us away from God, or a time to develop habits of prayer, meditation and contemplation.  All of this sounds good, in a very general sense; but, for the neurodiverse, it can also sound too broad… not specific enough… not tangible, not measurable – and, therefore, not anything we can grasp, physically or conceptually.

     

    What about when the things other people consider “luxuries” are, for us, necessities?  Who decides what constitutes luxury? If we go by what the devotional guides say, we end up going without things that we absolutely rely on, such as grocery delivery and prepared meals.  Even more difficult is teasing out what others consider “entertainments” which, again, for us, are necessities.  Many, many neurodiverse people can regulate, cope and function better with help from electronic devices with screens.  Many of us communicate and connect with others over electronic devices in ways we simply cannot do in person.  Who gets to decide what is adaptive and assistive, and what is “luxury” or “entertainment”?  I never see that distinction made in suggested acts of penance or fasting… just the same urging to switch off our screens so that we can be more present to the people around us.  (If that were possible, we’d have already done it).  Where is the line drawn between acts of penance and denying ourselves basic needs?  And why is it okay to lump the things that neurodiverse people successfully rely on to function, in with the things deemed superfluous by neurotypical people, without some kind of qualification?  Does anyone ever suggest giving up other assistive and adaptive accommodations that are acceptable standards for other disabilities?  Is it ever printed in a Lenten devotional, “Just for today, leave your walker or cane home” – or, “For these forty days, stop relying on closed captioning, and rely on God instead” – ?

     

    What about when our executive functioning does not know the difference between “distractions” and “important items”?  Do the authors of Lenten devotionals realize that, for some people, what you call “distractions” are an integral part of our panoramic, multisensory processing, and can’t just be given up?  Moreover, if what others call distractions are a way of life for us, is any spiritual growth even possible?  All I’ve seen are essays and dissertations saying that distractions are our downfall.  There goes another category of things that sound good for typical people, but don’t apply to us, unless difficulties with executive functioning really do disqualify us as saints.

     

    Another question: How can we know which way to pray best, when the suggestion is to “pray more”?  What if we have difficulty keeping all our tasks in mind for any given day, and are doing well, but do not have the cognitive flexibility to stop midstream and pray?  What if our functioning is stretched to its limit already? What can we give up, to make time for prayer, when we struggle with time-blindness?  What if praying feels too verbal for us on any given day?  We are taught that mental prayer takes focus and years of discipline, and requires things like stillness and interior silence which does not often come easily to the neurodivergent.  We may be outwardly silent, but inwardly, the trains of thought are running on multiple tracks at full capacity.  We don’t have the cognitive ability to just stop.  Where is that accounted for, in Lenten guides and spiritual direction?

     

    As an autistic adult, I find the Lenten guides for children easier to use and follow than those intended for grown-ups.  It is easier for me to concretely count out some of my possessions with the idea of donating them, or to budget out a certain percentage of my income or savings for charity.  It is easier to count prayers or minutes or check-boxes than to try and do an assessment of my life and my habits – because my environment and my routines are all wrapped up in the wild and crazy way I make sense of the world and function in it.  And yet – when I pray by rote, and write checks because it’s the time of year to do so… it doesn’t feel any different afterward.  I’ve done my duty.  How does that bring me closer to God?

     

    Making a list of Lenten Resolutions has likewise proven ineffective for many of us, mainly because it is the equivalent of taking our familiar flight plan and adding in several detours and extra stops – without the allowance of more time in the itinerary.  Calling our routines “autopilot” is not a bad thing at all.  Autopilot is a reliable means of getting from Point A to Point B in the face of all kinds of variables, interference and conditions.  Taking a plane off autopilot is not a guaranteed disaster, but it requires an enormous and constant expenditure of attention, energy and action.  While we can fairly say it will develop discipline among the flight crew, it will also put everyone on high alert and raise the potential for going off course and encountering difficulties, and demands our full, constant and immediate attention.  We all know that voluntarily adding stress to our already-stretched-too-thin processing systems is a straight line to crash and burn.  Changing our routines for Lent – at least, among the neurodiverse – is not a very useful idea; and yet, that seems to be the overarching theme to most Lent devotionals and calendars.

     

    More and more, I see the need – a desperate need – for new wineskins for neurodiverse people.  We need guidance on how to approach Lent in the ways we are wired to approach anything.  We need permission to pass up the devotionals, calendars and suggested penances which are written for neurotypical lifestyles.  We need better examinations of conscience, written by neurodiverse individuals for neurodiverse individuals, so that we do not keep treating our failure to align with neurotypical standards as sinful.  Of course we sin, of course we are in need of forgiveness – but how many sinful habits have evolved from trying to do things in ways not suited to our wiring?  How much confusion comes from compromising our needs because we have been conditioned from the youngest age that it is of utmost importance to satisfy others?  How many times has our character been called into question over things we genuinely cannot change about ourselves?

     

    We need to hear more from neurodiverse clergy, supported by more and better understanding of neurodiversity by the Church.  This is something I pray for every day.  I would like to see a prayer calendar with forty days’ reflections on how our Church can grow in this understanding and need for support.  I would imagine this would benefit the entire Body of Christ, not just the neurodiverse.

     

    For now, my working plan is to see Lent as a season during which we invite Our Lord to show Himself to us in our lives, and to show us the ways our lives can be offered (i.e., made meaningful) to Him.  How does He use our neurodiversity to build the Kingdom of God?  How does the witness of our lives reflect Him to those in our orbit?  Do we spend more of our energy trying to know, love and serve Him in neurotypical ways than in ways that we are naturally wired to be?  Do we trust that He does not ask us to extend ourselves past our neurodivergent limits?  Do we trust that it is better to say “no” to resolutions that are not compatible with (and even harmful to) our physical, sensory or social processing?

     

    It takes real courage to step out of the boxes other people would have us in, and be authentically and vulnerably who we are.  To me, that is the most radical offering we can make.

     

  • Dr. Hahn: It’s not funny

    Dr. Hahn: It’s not funny

    by Aimee O’Connell

     

    I have recently become aware of a book just published, Autism and Holy Orders, touted as a long-overdue resource for helping autistic men navigate the process of priestly formation, ordination and service in the Church.  I could not wait to start reading… until I hit the foreword by Scott Hahn.

    Scott Hahn’s name always brings a smile to my face.  I have an entire shelf devoted to his books.  I have attended his conferences and speaking engagements.  I relish with guilty pleasure every single Dad joke he has made and refer many, many people to his writing, as I feel he has a gift in being able to explain Church doctrine in a way that is memorable, relevant and relatable to anyone.  I don’t know him personally, but it’s no exaggeration to say he is a part of my Catholic fabric.

    The foreword made me gasp.

    In an instant, this well respected, well recognized, NON AUTISTIC writer / speaker / scholar, to whom so many look for guidance and encouragement, dismissed the condition of being autistic as a fad, a marketing ploy, a source of confusion.  His flippant tone made me want to shrink, mask, camouflage, hide.  If he said this in one of his public talks, any autistic person in the crowd would wish to become instantly invisible.

    He goes on to qualify his thoughts along the lines of some of his best and brightest students have had autism, and it pains him to see them suffer needlessly from a lack of understanding.  His departure from Dad jokes to full-on irony hit me like a hard smack in the face, and I’m still not laughing.

    The rest of the book, I’m sad to say, followed suit.  You can read my review here.  On the one hand, it’s a consolation to know that a book like this has a very narrow target audience, so Dr. Hahn’s insensitivity won’t necessarily be felt by as many people as it might if he wrote this in a more mainstream book.  On the other hand, how many autistic people know what sort of attitude Dr. Hahn holds toward us, and perpetuates – knowingly or unknowingly – through his example?

    Certainly, Dr. Hahn is entitled to believe and feel whatever he does.  It is not my place to police his comments.  However, it is within bounds to remind everyone who is not autistic that autism is no picnic.  We aren’t broken, yet people still look at us that way.  Alexithymia and sensory anxiety still make it very difficult for us to feel we are “enough” in the eyes of God, let alone the eyes of the Church.  Our intellect may know that God loves us as we are, but our bodies send signals of constant doubt which we have to consciously recognize and counteract if we want to maintain any kind of spiritual life.  It is a thousand times worse when our community sends us signals that feed this doubt (… such as when a renowned Catholic speaker belittles autism as a fad).  And, it’s amazing to see that even the people who consider autism a disability still speak about it as though they know everything about it, yet have zero knowledge of what it’s like from the inside, or any seeming desire to truly listen to those of us who talk openly about it it (… especially if they so quickly dismiss that as attention-seeking).

    Dr. Hahn: It’s not funny.  I’m not laughing.  I pray that you may grow in compassion, offering Jesus’ prayer on your behalf: “Father, forgive him; he does not know what he is doing.”

     

     

  • ACAT 25: Mary’s Unstained, Unflinching Love

    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.