On Religion: A Mother’s Journey With Autism And Faith
(ANALYSIS) On many Sundays, Corey Hatfield sent her family ahead into church while she lingered outside with her autistic son, Grayson — trying to decide if he would scream or run the second they entered the sanctuary.
Approaching the chalice during Holy Communion was another challenge.
“Some Sundays, I drew near with Grayson in a headlock, my hand clamped tightly over his mouth to silence his steady stream of cuss words," she wrote in “The Light From a Thousand Wounds,” her spiritual memoir that discusses, among other life events, the impact of profound autism on her family.
Getting to Saint Spyridon Orthodox Church in Loveland, Colorado, often left her "late, tousled and out-of-breath, adorned in bite marks rather than jewelry. Often, I never even made it to church. ... I lamely offered God my unproductive exasperation."
Some congregations may have the resources and space to offer ministries to help families with neurodiverse members, said Hatfield, reached by telephone. But everyone needs to know that no one-size-fits-all strategy exists. One professional told her, "If you've seen one autistic kid, you've seen ... one autistic kid."
What clergy and their people cannot do is look away, said Metropolitan Nathanael of Chicago during the Gathered as One Body: Disability, Accessibility and Inclusion in the Orthodox Church conference this past spring in Boston.
“Isolation, not disability, is the greatest wound,” he said. “Today, many people living with disabilities and their caretakers and families experience the same isolation. They feel invisible in their parishes; they feel they have no one to help them draw near to the healing waters of the church's life. ... This is a tragedy, and it is also a sin.”
Hatfield, in an interview focusing on issues in her memoir, noted specific responses that congregations could carefully consider:
— “There is room for education in our churches. That would help,” she said. "The problem is that some kids need exactly the opposite kind of care that would help others. ... What we have to recognize is that the church is a diverse body, and we need to show tolerance, with love.”
-- Clergy can keep files on counselors, schools, gyms and caregiving networks that church members have found dependable. With her own son, who is now a young adult, having profound autism, Hatfield said it was essential to find help with his unique dietary needs. In some communities, there are nonprofit groups that watch neurodivergent children overnight, or for several days, giving parents and siblings a break.
— Should congregations create safe spaces near their sanctuaries into which parents can retreat with autistic children? During the Boston conference, one mother said she needed a room in which her child was free to vocalize, shout or scream. Then another mother said her child required a totally soothing and quiet place. Again, no one approach met all needs.
— Life with a profoundly autistic child often has a notable impact on others in the family. In her book, Hatfield confessed that, often, “I had five children, but four of them were motherless." Clergy can help, but parents and siblings may have needs of their own that require professional medical help and counseling. Siblings may need trustworthy camps, arts groups and other fellowship options as safety valves.
— Hatfield stressed that she welcomed resources — prayers, icons, books about the lives of saints — that helped her wrestle with her pain and spiritual struggles. In the memoir, she noted: "I uncovered the true gem of the Orthodox Church: Its beautiful theology on suffering. Rather than a punishment for sin, as I'd come to believe, suffering was honored as a sacred gift to be held with tender compassion.”
It was almost impossible, she wrote, to express what she was feeling. She settled on “joyful sorrow” and “painful beauty.”
She experienced Good Friday over and over.
“If the church is the hospital for the sick, and it is, then the church needs more room for people who are truly facing pain and sickness, people with lives that often contain total chaos,” she said in the interview.
“When do we address that kind of chaos in our services? ... People may tell you to read your Bible or pray more. But suffering with people and crying with people can do so much more than saying, 'Have you tried THIS?’”
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Terry Mattingly is Senior Fellow on Communications and Culture at Saint Constantine College in Houston. He lives in Elizabethton, Tennessee, and writes Rational Sheep, a Substack newsletter on faith and mass media