3 Ways the Church Can Love an Autistic Person Like Me
3 Ways the Church Can Love an Autistic Person Like Me
3 Ways the Church Can Love an Autistic Person Like Me
A writer explains the experiences autistic people may have in church and with people and how the church can relate with them.
By Madeleine Scholefield
I felt like a fraud during worship.
Not because I didn’t mean what I was singing to God, no. It was because I was just so overwhelmed by all the lights, sounds, touches, smells, and things happening around me, that I just couldn’t focus on Him.
A faint, high-pitched scream came from one of the speakers, but judging from the lack of reaction, I realised I was the only person who could hear it. The person next to me lifted his hands in worship and my skin prickled all over as his elbow brushed against mine. A toddler running up and down the aisle distracted me. I felt trapped and overwhelmed.
Many parts of one body
I was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder at the age of 22. In many ways, it came as a surprise, but it also made a lot of sense. It helped me understand why I struggled with things that others didn’t seem to be bothered by.
Since my diagnosis, I’ve been able to learn a great deal about autism. My diagnosis has also revealed why I’ve often struggled to find my place in the church, and why I sometimes feel like I’m the odd one out.
God, however, has been teaching me what it means to be “many parts of one body”. We all have a unique role to play in God’s work, and we’re all needed as part of His body. “In fact”, as Paul writes, “God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be” (1 Corinthians 12:18, emphasis added).
I’ve wrestled for a long time with trying to figure out my place in the church. There are lots of things I find difficult, and sometimes, it can feel like I’m more of a burden than an asset to God’s kingdom. But that’s not the case.
I’ve come to realise that God has gifted me, and that those gifts aren’t there in spite of my autism— they’re there because of it.
I’ve come to realise that God has gifted me, and that those gifts aren’t there in spite of my autism— they’re there because of it.
I’ve come to realise that God has gifted me, and that those gifts aren’t there in spite of my autism— they’re there because of it.
3 ways you can love autistic people well
One person’s experience of autism is different from another person’s. Let me share three ways in which autistic people like me would like to be treated—and to be loved.
- Be our friend
This first one might sound obvious, but it’s important: just be our friend.
We probably all know someone who is “on the spectrum”. Before I was diagnosed, I knew a few people at my church who were “different” and “quirky”. Some of them wouldn’t make eye contact. Others talked about really specific interests long after I’d tuned out.
I’m struck by how Jesus went out of His way to include people who were excluded from society, and who probably didn’t have many friends. They were the kind of people who didn’t always fit in and probably felt like they were left out. And how did Jesus treat these people? Not only with respect and dignity, but also with the love of a friend walking beside them.
Think of the Samaritan woman at the well: Jesus not only crossed profound social boundaries by approaching her, but He also talked to her as a friend, as someone willing to share His life with her.
Although I don’t like to admit it, I didn’t always make the effort to include people who were “different”. Since my own diagnosis, however, I’ve been much more in tune with what it means to be a good friend to others, and so much more grateful to my own friends who show patience and ask me questions when they don’t understand me.
“What does it feel like?” they ask. “How has it impacted your life?” “What do you love about being wired this way?” “Is there anything we can do to support you better?”
When friends ask questions like these and take the time to listen, it makes me feel valued.
Of course, not every autistic person will want to talk about their experiences, but it doesn’t hurt to ask if they’d like to.
- Try seeing the world through our eyes
My parents used to get frustrated with me whenever I refused to pick things up from the supermarket for them. They didn’t understand why going there was such a big deal for me. So, one day when we were out together, I tried explaining what I was experiencing.
“See those cracks in the pavement?” I asked them. “I can’t walk on them, or it’ll feel uneven. I can’t hold the milk carton because the condensation will drip down my arm and it feels awful. The radio is noisy, the lights are buzzing, the colours in this aisle clash . . .”
My parents were shocked. To them, getting the groceries was a trivial part of the day. They’d never realised that to me, it was the hardest part of my week.
You don’t have to share the same experience as an autistic person to have compassion.
It’s enough to try to understand that how we experience the world is very different.
- Be flexible where you can
Because of these differences, I sometimes need help adjusting.
Of course, churches can’t always cater to every individual’s specific needs. But what the body of Christ can do, I believe, is strive to understand how autistic people experience things, and make an effort to support us where possible.
When we meet for coffee, my friends know that I like to sit in the corner, far away from the noise of the coffee grinder and bathroom queues. They take off their sunglasses so that I can read their facial expressions, and they wait patiently when a noise interrupts our conversation and I have to catch my breath.
Having people who make an effort to understand how I experience the world and do what they can to make that easier, has made all the difference to me.
These adjustments don’t just help me to be comfortable or to “get through” daily life or church services—they also help me to serve.
I was recently reminded of 1 Peter 4:10, in which Peter urges us to use our gifts not only to serve God but also to serve one another, so that together, we might all serve God: “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”
Part of church life is about serving one another as we ultimately serve Jesus. I hope to use the gifts that I have because of my autism to serve others. But in order to do this, I may also need others to support me or make small adjustments.
There’s a sense of mutual service here: I serve you, you serve me, and together we all serve God and reach out to the world for Him. For example, a gifted double bass player can add great beauty to the praise and worship in his church when he plays the instrument. It brings enjoyment to the congregation, and he serves God through his musical worship.
However, he might face a simple problem: he can’t fit that big, heavy instrument into his car. He needs someone with a bigger car who is willing to adjust his own plans to help get the double bass to church. So, here is the opportunity to serve the double bass player so that he in turn might serve us, and together we might all serve God.
As an autistic person, I sometimes need that kind of support so that I can serve God and others with the gifts He’s given me.
A place for all of us
If you’re an autistic person reading this, I want you to know that you’re not alone, and that there is a place for you here.
And if you’re someone wanting to understand more about the autistic experience and how to love your brothers and sisters on the spectrum, thank you. We need more people like you who are ready to listen and support us.
Living with autism is challenging. Daily life can be a struggle, especially since a lot of people can’t understand our experiences. And that’s why awareness is so important for people like me.
With awareness comes understanding; with understanding, empathy; and with empathy, unity.
With awareness comes understanding; with understanding, empathy; and with empathy, unity.
With awareness comes understanding; with understanding, empathy; and with empathy, unity.
After all, as Paul wrote, everyone in the church “should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honoured, every part rejoices with it” (1 Corinthians 12:25–26).
Let us honour one another as we seek God in everything we do.
Madeleine Scholefield manages social media for Our Daily Bread Australia. After growing up overseas on an OM missions ship, she returned to Australia. She now studies writing and lives in Adelaide with her husband Matt.