The Urgent Need: Autistic Mission

by Aimée O’Connell

Earlier this week, I referenced a recently published book intended as a field guide for bishops and seminary faculty in guiding and supporting autistic men discerning and responding the call to the priesthood.  As an autistic person, I feel the need to call attention to all that this book represents and its implications for the Church at large.  As a married woman, I am in no way qualified to speak about the priesthood or seminary formation – nor do I intend to.  However, as a member of the laity, I am charged with the same call to holiness and prayer as all my brothers and sisters in Christ.   I am the mother of a son who one day may himself feel a vocational call, if that is God’s plan for him.  I am a member of a Church begging for new vocations, more priests, pleading with Matthew 9:38 that the Lord will send more laborers to the harvest.  I may not be a seminarian, but I most certainly have a stake in the lifeblood of the Church – as is true for all members of the laity, men and women, all ages, all abilities, all neurotypes.

It does not matter who wrote this book or who endorsed it – by name, anyway.  This is not anything personal.  My observations are global, pointing to the big picture, and casting no blame on anyone in particular.  I pray that those reading this will follow likewise in seeing the system view rather than seeking out individuals.  We are all members of this same Body of Christ, with the same mission of actualizing the love of Christ in the world we live in.

In short: This book, Autism and Holy Orders, may fairly be characterized as a de facto policy statement of sorts, written in conjunction with and on behalf of Church leadership.  It makes public the working model which the Church holds on what autism is and how it is to be lived.  It bears the seals of approval by representatives of the Catholic hierarchy as well as those of Catholic religious orders, Catholic academia, Catholic seminaries, the Catholic diaconate and the secular field of clinical psychology.  This takes in a very wide swath of predominantly Catholic representation from on high, and one can assume that endorsements at this level trickle down through the ranks to each tier of leadership and staffing, eventually shaping the actions and opinions of staff and volunteers at even the parish level.

It is fair, then, to conclude that the prevailing approaches, attitudes, and beliefs of our Church toward autistic people are at least twenty years behind where the current and reputably acceptable understanding of autism is in the rest of academia, the healthcare and helping professions, and actual lived experience.  And this is a huge problem.

One need conduct very minimal research to see how autism has progressed from grossly misguided and stigmatizing treatment to much more humane, compassionate and accurate approaches informed by neuropsychology and the collective stories of actually autistic individuals.  The collective dialogue about autism has grown substantially and the global understanding is slowly coming around to see that autistic people thrive when allowed to be autistic, rather than following a pathology-driven model of symptom elimination.  Though the challenges of an autistic neurotype remain the same, contemporary approaches draw on personal assets rather than deficits and encourage autonomy through identifying those skills which would be most helpful to each individual.  Emotion regulation, distress tolerance, interpersonal effectiveness and coping ahead are skills that any person needs, but can also be tailored individually to fit the configuration of autistic people based on where they are finding the most difficulty. But, lest this paint too rosy a picture, I will add that it is still an uphill climb.  Meltdowns, burnout, shunning and stereotypes still exist all over the place.  The difference is that we as a collective society have more tools and better ways to frame things than we did twenty years ago, so there is better hope for better growth and thriving than in the darker days of autistic history.  People finally know that Rain Man is not the last word on, or the most accurate picture of, autistic life.

Enter, then, this book – published September 1, 2022, as a long-awaited guide for the Church in shaping and forming autistic men for holy orders.  In fact, once I started reading it, I realized the Church has waited TOO long to start looking at these questions.

Again, I emphasize that I read this book as a member of the laity who takes my call to pray for priests and vocations seriously, and as the mother of at least one person who may – who knows? – one day hear that call for himself.  And so it is that I speak up as one who is very concerned, who wants very much to support priests and vocations to religious life, and who recognizes that the pool of prospective members likely reflects the same demographics as we see in the mainstream population.  If we go with the one-in-44 estimate, debatable or not, we can safely assume we have several autistic people among us in every parish, in every diocese.   How many autistic people are called to religious vocations?  Only the Holy Spirit can answer that.  But it is our responsibility as fellow members of the Church to support all vocations, including those stirring in autistic individuals.

Thus, I raise the alarm.

Alarm? Isn’t that a bit melodramatic?  Not really.  Take a look at this review of the book by an autistic priest, and tell me afterwards if I am being dramatic.  Considering he was ordained 35 years ago, it is fair to deduce that he came of age during that time when autism was less understood and widely pathologized.  His words suggest that he has endured a lot of pain as a result.  While we can shrug and say that this was an unfortunate matter of people not knowing about autism like we do now, how can we reconcile that when this book – filled with the same pathologizing characterizations – was just published?

This needs to stop.

I have no answers.  I have no idea how to bring the Church up to speed so that she can work hand in hand with her autistic members in a way that is accurate, compassionate and truly nurturing of who we are.  I just know that if this book is commensurate with a policy statement, we’re in trouble.  I would feel the same way and make the same statements if a book like this came out in any other context – school boards, medical societies, secular academia – and I would issue the same call that I am now.

The Church is in the dark about autism. We, as autistic Catholics, need to be light.  We need to be visible.  We need to be who we are, as brightly as possible – because the Church is not seeing clearly.  The Church is stuck in the same rut that paints autism as a burden, a puzzle, something to be swept under the rug or passed over as quickly and deftly as possible so as not to draw attention to anything that looks or sounds different.  The Church is not comfortable with us as we are.  And this is not just limited to holy orders; ask any autistic person who has tried to participate in ministries, leadership roles, youth groups, sacramental preparation, faith sharing… and found them inaccessible, impenetrable and immutable.  Has nobody yet heard of universal design, or is it too scary to think of introducing something new at the institutional, diocesan, seminary or parish level?

We autistics have spent our lifetimes learning ways to grow and thrive and accept that non-autistic people do things differently.  We have been explicitly taught scads of social skills and social graces, scripts that help us come across in ways that supposedly pass muster so that we are taken seriously.

It’s time to model this for the Church.

It’s time to model compassion, active listening, comprehension, acceptance.  It’s time to model patience with a system that appears to us as lacking empathy, slow to understand and rigid in its ways.   But hey… we’ve been there.  We have both the experience to teach and the capacity to forgive.

If I may, allow me to paraphrase Ross Greene in closing: The Church’s stance on autism is challenging because it lacks the skills to not be challenging.  Skills do not just drop out of the sky; grace, however, makes all things possible.  As autistic Catholics, our mission seems clearer and clearer: We must be the light that is currently lacking. We must pray, be visible, and be the truth that makes up for twenty-plus years of systemic turning away and not seeing the pastoral necessity of understanding neurodiversity.

May God help us all in our mission.

Three Simple and Meaningful Ways for Parishes and Churches to Promote Autism Awareness in April (And Beyond)

(Note – the graphic is designed primarily for Catholic viewers and readers, but the text here has been adjusted to apply more universally to any Christian worship community. Feel free to share in your own circles!)

Three Simple and Meaningful Ways for Parishes and Churches to Promote Autism Awareness in April – And Beyond!

  1. Plan one homily or sermon acknowledging God’s wisdom in creating neurodiversity: noting the role of autistic people in the Body of Christ, dispelling myths many people still have about autism, and setting the tone for the parish as a place that recognizes and cherishes its neurodiverse members – seen and unseen, heard and unheard.

 

  1. Consider offering a sensory friendly worship service as part of the regular services one weekend… then, consider how that could become a recurring option throughout the year.

 

  1. Host a brainstorming session for autistic people in the church, asking what would make it easier to participate in church events, sacraments, leadership and ministry. Plan this so that input can be received in writing or pre-recorded as well as in person, to include input from non-speaking persons.

 

How can we re-form “awareness”?

Here we are at another April and countless hashtags promoting autism awareness, acceptance and affirmation.  The non-autistic world is most familiar with “awareness” as a positive way to remind the community of things often forgotten in the day-to-day, perhaps taken for granted or not particularly visible.  There is nothing inherently wrong with that, and, if we think about it, that concept does very much apply to autism.

Why, then, do most autistics prefer not to promote “autism awareness”?

Historically, public discussion of autism took place without autistic input.  For decades, autism has been looked at as a condition needing to be treated, rehabilitated, overcome and eliminated.  That mindset arose from lack of understanding of the neuropsychological reality of autism, when people considered this a mental illness that could one day be cracked and solved.  We know better now.  We know that autism is a complex interplay of hyperattuned sensory input, increased processing demands and reflexive high-alert states resulting in our brains and bodies doing exactly what humans are programmed to do under such circumstances.  Anyone who finds themselves in a state of vigilance knows what it means to pause, freeze and not speak, and to laser-lock our focus on details we feel are essential to our safety.  We know better than to take autism personally, and not to assume autistic people are being difficult because we feel entitled to preferential treatment or because we are snobby, shy or seeking attention.

Or… do we?

See, this is why we shouldn’t throw “awareness” out the window just yet.  Yes, absolutely, let us accept and affirm autism as well, but we really do need to reboot our cultural sense of awareness of what autism is, now that we know what it is not.

To be blunt: Autistics know when “autism awareness” is nothing but a token nod from non-autistics who have no intention of learning what autism really is.  In those cases, yes, we do need to move into acceptance and affirmation.  But, how will non-autistics know us and understand us without first becoming truly aware of us and all that neurodiversity is?

Perhaps one day this will evolve into “neurodiversity month.”  Or, even better, we can hope for communities who embrace us as we are so that we can happily be autistic – and they can be aware of how to support us – all twelve months of the year.

Pastoral Ministry to Autistic Christians

by Allie Mason

 

Sometimes, to share that we are autistic with our church family can feel daunting, especially if we have experienced any negativity in the responses of others that we have told before. However, it is important to remember that God does not make mistakes, and the Church is a place that He intends to be welcoming. Just look to John 9:2-4. Jesus is asked if a man is blind because of his own sin, or the sin of his parents. “Neither”, is Jesus’ reply, “this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him” (NIV). Do not take this simply to mean that the man was born blind so that, at the appropriate time, Jesus could heal him. Rather, consider how God works through our lives as disabled Christians, how our lives themselves display the works of God. If possible, try to consider disability as a vehicle of light, where God is communicating through us and with us to the world.

With this in mind, once we have shared that we are autistic with our church family, we can begin to build pastoral relationships based on a mutual understanding of the possible impacts that our disability might have. The indicative features of autism across the spectrum are impaired social skills, difficulties in communicating and repetitive behaviours. I will briefly touch upon these below, in relation to both ourselves as autistic Christians and the minister with whom we wish to speak. This could be in the context of biblical counselling, marriage preparation, faith formation or beyond.

 

Recommendations for the autistic Christian:

  • If stimming (self-stimulatory behaviour) is calming, or helps with focus, make sure to take along a favourite stim object. I personally have a collection of small stones and always feel soothed by having one held in the palm of my hand during a conversation.
  • If it would help, invite somebody else along who already understands the support needs associated with autism, especially to a first meeting. This could be a partner, a family member or a close friend. I would discuss this beforehand with the minister but have no fear in asking for this accommodation just because it isn’t the usual way things are done.
  • Finally, it is important for us to be our own advocate in such situations. We know what is right for us better than anyone else. For example, prayer for healing is often a delicate topic within the disabled Christian community. If, as I do, you feel that being autistic is not a deficit, but rather the way that we were made by God Himself, then don’t be afraid to say ‘no, thank you’ if someone offers prayer for healing, and explain why. By the same token, if such prayer would be welcome, feel comfortable in asking for that too.

 

Recommendations for the minister:

  • Be receptive when asked to make accommodations to support the needs of an autistic member of your congregation. As it says in James 1:19, “everyone should be quick to listen [and] slow to speak” (NIV). Should no accommodations initially be requested, check at the beginning of the meeting that they feel comfortable with the situation and environment, as it may be that they were not confident in being the first to address this.
  • Keep in mind that what feels normal or insignificant for you can often feel chaotic for somebody who is autistic. For example, if a lawnmower starts outside the window, appreciate that this will likely be distracting or possibly even overwhelming, as our brains struggle to differentiate between foreground and background noise.
  • As mentioned above, an offer to pray for healing may be made with the best of intentions, but it is not always welcome and can also be perceived hurtfully. I would recommend always waiting for your autistic congregant to invite such prayer themselves or offering to pray more generally for whatever might be on their heart at that time.
  • If you are unfamiliar with autism and how it manifests in different support needs for different people, please feel that you can be honest about this. It is always preferable that you would ask questions and learn from our experiences than remain silent.
  • Be aware that many autistic brains understand language literally, so supplement any reference to metaphor by taking care to explain both your own ideas and Scripture in a straightforward manner. Encourage your congregant to ask questions, allowing them to seek clarification if they are confused or to express further interest in something that they have found compelling.

 

 

 

Allie Mason is a postgraduate student and freelance research consultant from the UK, currently studying for an MSc in Education at the University of Oxford and working with a start-up neurodiversity consultancy. She first became a Christian in her teenage years and, since a recent diagnosis of autism, has begun to pursue a keen interest in the relationship between disability and faith.