Aspergian Christianity

“Do you want to come sit down with the rest of us?”

“NO!”

“Well you have to because this is what we’re all doing right now.”

“Ugg…Why did you even ask me the question in the first place?”

This was a conversation I regularly had with a camper a few years back while counseling a week of summer camp.  I was familiar with Aspergers but never had primary responsibility for someone on the autistic spectrum. I figured it would be challenging, but not in the way it turned out to be.  For instance, in the conversation above, when I asked if this student wanted to come sit with us, I wasn’t actually asking. I was implying.  It was clear to me that our cabin was all sitting together and this student needed to come join us.  But this student heard me truly asking him a question – in his mind, I was wondering whether or not he would actually like to sit down – which he didn’t.  When I then told him he HAD to sit down, he would get frustrated, as he had already expressed what he wanted to do.

Over the course of our time together at camp, I continually had to be mindful of the way I phrased things.  I soon became aware of how often we say one thing and yet imply another thing either through the phrasing of the question, the tone of the voice, or the context.  Yet for this student, he didn’t always understand or catch onto the nuances of my speaking – he heard my words and responded to them.

While this was initially frustrating, I soon came to see it as a gift that those with Aspergers or others on the autistic spectrum have to offer to the church and the world: the gift of truth-telling. Instead of being offended by the forthrightness or clarity of speech from those who have Aspergers, we can welcome it as a reminder of the way we use our words, and the power that they have.  When choose beating around the bush, or gently trying to imply what feels like a blatant truth, we can learn from those who speak the truth plainly.  We must always choose gentleness when communicating that truth, but we ought to pursue speaking the truth.

Sometimes when I hear someone with Aspergers plainly speak the truth and others get offended, I think of Jesus and how often he said and did things that were offensive.  Now, he wasn’t being offensive for the sake of being offensive, but his actions pointed out a blind spot or area of hidden sinfulness/brokenness in the culture.  I imagine that at times, people were uncomfortable when he opened his mouth to speak, not sure what he might say .  And yet his words, full of truth and grace, exposed the darkness to light and people couldn’t live the same way after their encounter with Jesus.  And after that week of camp and learning to speak plainly, clearly, and truthfully, I don’t think I’ve been the same either.