Dear Friends,
Hello from the other side of Holy Week. Now that I’ve had a nap, it’s time to get back to (church) business.
So, what’s been going on? I’ve spent the last week or so observing an entertaining nod to futility that is especially relevant to my corner of the world, which is that autistic people and advocates are throwing up their hands this month over the debate between “Autism Awareness” and “Autism Acceptance” and just calling this April “Autism Month.” Personally, I’m here for it. It’s a delightful way around a futile conflict.
I talk about autism in my work for multiple reasons, the first of which is of course because it’s personal; it shapes how I approach being a faith formation practitioner and how I understand my place in the church and my relationship to liturgy. But I also emphasize this piece because it’s relevant for everyone – current estimates are that 1 in 36 people is autistic. That’s a lot of people! (And it’s a statistic that still dramatically undercounts girls & women and which almost certainly doesn’t account for race-based diagnostic bias, which is a whole other set of matters.) We can’t talk about formation or even just about community without talking about disability.
The Disabled God
It’s fitting that this year, Autism… something… Month began the day after Easter I because the Resurrection is a direct encounter with a Disabled God. In the lectionary, it is this Sunday when we will hear about the disciples encounter with those wounds, about Thomas’s doubts.
Still wounded, He is Risen. Alleluia.
The Easter festivities tend to emphasize for me, internally, the ways in which I am different. Easter is noisy and loud and full of unfamiliar faces (I’m not judging them, I just don’t have an easy posture of welcome in the ways other people do). There are trumpets and strong-smelling lilies, and maybe even bells. Everything is more and extra and different. Of all days, Easter, in its glory, feels like one that a lot of autistic people of all ages, would be more than happy to skip.
Conversely, Easter can be the sort of day when the behavioral expectations of church loosen a bit. It’s more crowded, lots of people in attendance are out of practice with typical “pew behavior” (and I don’t mean the sort on the pew cards you’ll find in my parish). In theory, it’s the sort of day when being out of step – whether that means being “too loud,” spinning, flapping, or any of a range of other behaviors – would be less noticeable. There’s a lot of conflict at play here. There’s also a lot more Easter with a lot less liturgical drama and disruption that will follow, thankfully.
Often, when we talk about Jesus’s healing miracles, we talk about the internal conflict these narratives can create, particularly for disabled children or for those with close friends or family members with significant disabilities. Why does Jesus heal these people but not them? There are all kinds of arguments that can be made here, but even as other people are healed, Christ not only dies but, even in resurrection, continues to bear his physical wounds. He is not ultimately a recipient of the healing he offers others. There’s a lot to ponder there, but it would have been awfully easy to restore Jesus’s physical form – and yet it didn’t happen.
All of this is to say that we are whole and beloved even in our itchy-Easter-dress meltdowns, in our ear-covering-to-escape-the-trumpets, and whether or not anyone remembered to program the Alleluia response into the AAC. Christ is still risen.
Resurrection Work
Now that we’ve all had our post-Holy Week naps and we’re back in the thick of things, let’s consider what it means to be in this Resurrection season.
When we look around, Resurrection is signified by flowers and butterflies, by empty tombs and sheep, by eggs and sunrises. The stock images are bright and warm and cheerful, but what does it all mean?
If Resurrection, is about Christ’s rising to new life, why does it look the same every year? Why doesn’t it act as an invitation for us to try something new, to stretch our ministries?
I’m not proposing that we undertake some enormous new project every Easter. That’s unrealistic. Resurrection work can be modest, like planting seeds, and still have big potential. So, take a moment – what in your ministry work, or in some other part of your life – needs a gardener’s hand? What needs to be made new?
As I turn to my own work lists and budgets and all the big dreams I have, my Resurrection work looks like a few things:
Creating Sensory Toolkits: In my last position, I had an array of sensory regulation tools available in each of my classrooms, but I haven’t had a chance to put those items together yet in my current role. It’s time to reinvest in those tools. While there’s no perfect array of items, some of my classroom favorites include:
Weighted lap pads (usually in 3 and 5 pound weights)
Liquid timers or “calm-down-jars” - you can make really lovely DIY versions of these, but any iteration is great for helping still fidgety bodies
Fabric marble mazes - these come in all different sizes, but I have a small flannel one that at least one friend jokes you’ll always find with me. These are another excellent DIY if you’ve got a sewing ministry or want to do a small workshop on making sensory tools
Tangles - they’re quiet, durable, and inexpensive, and another personal favorite for tactile stimulation
Kickbands or similar - if you have a conventional classroom with chairs, these can provide just enough extra motor activity to help focus those thinking brains
Adding access information to my Church School programs page: Yes, I’m starting modestly here, articulating this information for my program area first, with the ability to grow from there. But indicating where programs happen (are there stairs or other barriers), where parking is located, what bathroom facilities are available, and generally making it clear that we are prepared to talk about and collaborate on access questions all goes a long way. What information do you include on your website?
Continuing To Ensure All Children See Themselves In Our Resources: Remember, our classrooms should be full of windows and mirrors. And as we all know, picking out new books is one of my favorite things. Our latest new addition is Glenys Nellist’s Song of the Seasons, but Glenys’s new book on Eucharist will be out in September and we undoubtedly need a copy of You Will Always Belong by Matthew Paul Turner.
Resurrection work doesn’t have to be done before Pentecost. It doesn’t have to be expensive or elaborate or involve starting entire new committees. It’s work that’s part hope and part planning and all about living into God’s love for us and our love for our neighbor. I wonder what seeds you’ll plant!
Rising Up
Alleluia! Christ Is Risen!
The Lord is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!
May the God of Resurrection, the one who rose and revealed himself still wounded, inspire us to our own imperfect work.
Amen.
Peace,
Bird