So I’ve been thinking about how autism affects my spiritual life—I know it does, because autism affects every other aspect of my life.  For as long as I can remember, spirituality has been a hard thing for me.  See, the images that most people use when speaking of God—being held by, comforter, lover, friend, etc. don’t sit well with me.  They never have, and I have always felt spiritually inadequate because of that.  I thought I wasn’t trying hard enough, or that maybe I secretly didn’t want to be that close to God.  But I don’t think that’s true—consider my dismay at “common” Christianity, and you will realize (hopefully) that I love God and want to live the way Jesus has instructed us to.  But, I can’t worship or have a spiritual relationship with God the way neurotypical people do (neurotypicals are people not on the autism spectrum).  My brain isn’t wired that way—all that gushy, lovey stuff is very uncomfortable for me.  It’s why I don’t like being touched by others; why I can go a whole day without talking to any one.  Now, Amanda the optimist would argue that I don’t have to live in the autism box.  But I disagree—not only should I live there (because that’s how I’m created), but I’m tired of trying to be what I’m not and doing what isn’t right for me.  So, then, how does an autistic person interact with God?  Probably much the same way we do with the rest of the world—quietly, contemplatively, and with extreme interest.  Well, maybe we aren’t interested in the world as a whole, but what we are interested in we are quite devoted to.  And I think we can look for God in the neat things around us—his creation, art, music, maybe even a good meal (I love sharing a meal with friends, and always equate that with the way communion should be).  I don’t know (who really does?), but I sure am trying to wade through this spirituality thing.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’m going to gripe yet again about a church sign.  This one reads, “Prayer—a renewable energy source!”  I’m sure the people behind these words thought they were being cute, but considering the real trouble we are facing on this planet, I don’t find it cute at all.  I find it frustrating—instead of genuinely addressing the issue, they poked fun at it.And while I would encourage you to pray, I would also encourage you to really look at how you are expending your energy resources every day.  Where can you cut back?  How can you help the planet instead of contributing to its destruction?  Are you reusing and recycling?  God created us to be a part of this planet—to live in harmony with all the other living things that are here.  He did not give us a license to trash it.  More importantly, he commanded us to care for it:“Then God said, ‘Let us make human beings in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground’”.  Rule, as in care for; not rule, as in destroy.  I hope you will consider what impact you are making on this wonderful gift that God bestowed upon us.

I watched a great documentary tonight—it was about the book of Revelation.  Now, let me just say right now that I do not hold a literal view of the Bible.  That’s not say that I don’t think there are elements that can and should be taken literally, but most of it I take as narrative and metaphor that applied to the time and culture in which it was written.  Many scholars hold this view as well.  However, many Christian fundamentalists do not—they especially read Revelation with an excitement of things to come.  The success of the ridiculous (my opinion—doesn’t have to be yours too) Left Behind series is evidence enough.  In any case, the documentary presented both views, with much scholarship and great visuals.  But one quote in particular proved to be very memorable for me (and the actual subject of this blog).  A pastor was talking about Revelation and life in general. He said that if one lives with the expectation that Christ will return at any moment, then that will have a direct impact on how that person lives.  He finished by saying that he would not want to be caught “off guard” when Christ came.  Wow.  What a huge example of missing the point of being in fellowship with Christ.  Having a relationship with Christ is not about being on guard for screw-ups—it’s about loving Christ enough to live the way that he wants us to.  It’s not about being scared of God; it’s about wanting to be with God.  Notice I said wanting to be with him–not trying to escape “hell”.And this brings me to another thought I had about the documentary.  The literal interpretation of Revelation almost hints at a delight in the horrors described in John’s vision.  Now, Old Testament stories aside (and I’d argue that even then God did not delight in punishing the world), I have a hard time believing that God would want to heap such atrocities upon his creation.  It seems inconsistent with the God who entered humanity, lived among his handiwork, died to reconcile his creation to him, and laid the groundwork for a new kind of kingdom.  Jesus hints at this during his Sermon on the Mount—a little tid bit about how God cares for those who love him and those who don’t:“He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”  God sends what we need, including himself, in the process of fulfilling the greatest revelation of all—reconciling with his creation.One final note about the documentary—some scholars believe John was actually writing about the Roman Empire, not some distant era to come.  They even suggest that the Beast was the emperor Nero.By the way, I saw another annoying church sign today; it read: “If you can read this, then you can still be forgiven.” Bet you can guess what I thought of that…

If you don’t know who the Tau’ri are, shame on you.  You should be watching Stargate!  But I’ll save that discussion for another blog.  The point of this one is to say that I no longer feel like an alien.  After feeling estranged from others for most of my life (but disguising it well), I finally feel like part of the human race.  All of this thanks to my diagnosis of Asperger’s (1 in 250 people has an autism spectrum disorder).  For most of my life I have been told that I am different, and that I am different on purpose.  My parents accused me of being weird to embarrass them, or just to be difficult.  My therapist (the one who laughed when I asked if I had autism) said I enjoyed being unusual.  But that’s not true—I have always wanted to fit in, to be normal.  And the fact that I could not, or at least could not for very long, has always been a source of distress for me.  I have been lonely and sad for much of my life.  But Asperger’s has freed me from much of that angst; I realize that I am a part of the autism community, and I can feel normal there.  I need not feel ashamed about my weird habits or interests, and I don’t need to try to fit in—I just do.  What a precious blessing.

Sometimes I forget how nice Jesus is.  I get all wrapped up in the Christianity that the world portrays, and I fail to remember the enormous love Jesus has for each of us.   I was watching the Book of Matthew on DVD last night, and I was struck by the actor’s portrayal of Christ.  The Jesus in the film was not the Jesus of white-bread America.  To begin, this guy was brown—he bore no resemblance to the European Jesus.  And he was funny.  I laughed out loud during his Sermon on the Mount (the mother of all sermons).  He told jokes, cracked up his audience.  He was an amazing storyteller.  He kissed people, ruffled their hair, and fed them. He sat with them, healed them, and accepted them.  He loved them, and every interaction showed that love.  He was the Christ that is mentioned in the title of this blog. But the Christ portrayed in the DVD isn’t often the one portrayed in real life.  We who claim to know Jesus and to follow him don’t love everyone that we should.  We don’t ruffle the hair and kiss the heads of our enemies.  We don’t sit and laugh with those we disagree with. We don’t always feed the hungry without judging why they are so. We don’t accept those who don’t live as we think they should.  And that’s too bad—because if we loved as Jesus did (and does), our lives would be so much richer and peaceful.  We would really be doing God’s work, and things would improve for everyone.  And that kingdom that Jesus is always talking about would come to fruition. 

It’s good to remember how nice Jesus is, because it reminds me how I should be.