Becoming a Member On Palm Sunday—it seems an eternity ago already—I was trying to occupy myself, to make it less obvious that I could not find a way to participate in the socializing going on around me. I turned, as I do, to words on paper. I read the bulletin board. The entire bulletin board, from left to right. And toward the end of my reading, I discovered the minutes of the vestry meeting. And a single sentence leapt out at me: “Cal Montgomery has been welcomed as a new member of Good Shepherd.” I turned and walked away. I came back and looked again. “Cal Montgomery has been welcomed as a new member of Good Shepherd.” It was still there. Not “except,” but “member.” I looked again. And again. And willed my hands to stop their joyful flapping and my body to slow its excited rocking, lest someone notice and intrude on the moment. I feel like a member. I am treated like a member. I am a member. It says in the words on the paper that I am a member. I can have a home within the church. Thank You, thank you. Cal Montgomery, Thanksgiving/Easter 1998 . Journal of Religion, Disability, and Health . III.1. Binghamton, NY: Haworth Press. pp. 11-12. A Mennonite Story Christine Guth, AdNet “A young adult with autism serves as treasurer for children and youth Sunday School offerings. With great commitment, he collects the money and keeps track of the amounts. He is also responsible for coming in on Mondays to compile attendance data gathered the previous Sunday. Pastors value this information for helping to keep track of members and attendees.”
“Of Course” – Ministry and Service by Adults with Autism
Bill Gaventa, M.Div.
Of course “It is more blessed to give than receive,” but it takes intention!
A number of years ago, a friend asked me via e-mail if a young woman with autism could correspond with me about her faith journey. “Of course.” Whereupon we began a series of e-mails about her journey and her current congregation, where she had finally found a spiritual home that listened to her, accommodated her needs (e.g., printing a sermon beforehand so she could follow the text, letting her sit on the floor with her back to a wall where she felt more secure, and more). Then she asked me if she could send me a prayer she had written. “Of course.” Expecting a one page e-mail, I got a twelve page spiritual autobiography, entitled “Thanksgiving/Easter, 1998.” It was one of the most moving moments in my ministry. In a format based on a psalm, she talked about her life experience of “the kingdom of God being open to all…except her.” She had come into her current church looking for that “except you” experience once again, but it never happened. Hence the Thanksgiving. If your congregation is welcoming an adult with autism who has not had a faith home in his or her childhood or teenage years, be prepared for the testing, and find ways to receive and listen to the pain of that journey. Be also prepared for the incredible gift of that welcome and membership to the individual and his/her family. If someone with autism has grown up in your congregation, or another, and moved into adult years, the challenge may be finding new roles and ways for participation and inclusion that are age-appropriate. The children’s special needs ministry may not be the appropriate place anymore.
How do we make that shift? Hopefully, it has begun to happen in the teenage years as it does for everyone. But there are some key strategies:
Assume ability and competence. People may communicate very differently, as well as be at very different places on the spectrum of autism, but do not assume that a person is not understanding, intellectually and emotionally, what he or she experiences. Finding ways to hear their perspective, such as through computers and writing, may provide a rich and new perspective of the life of faith.
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Autism and Faith
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