Loving people is loving God

Andrew Bloomfield's hearing and comprehension are acute — it is only the method of communicating that needs to be facilitated.
His other faculties also seem to be unusually sharp. For instance, he can be very sensitive to the emotional state of a person in his presence, with not a word on the subject. He does not speak, but about five years ago, through facilitated communication, which involves an independent communication specialist, he made his interest and understanding of God's presence in his life clearly known to his family. His mother was surprised: "What's interesting to us is that we never talked about all this as he was growing up, and he never had any Sunday school or church experience. It was Andrew himself who started using the terms spirituality and soul."
Andrew has lived with severe autism for all his 37 years. It's not hard to find a workable definition of it — most authorities are in broad agreement. Spirituality was another matter, however. The dictionaries were too vague; I tried my own, didn't like it, and then asked some wise friends what they thought it might be. The answers ranged from the scholarly, quoting Augustine, to an enjoyably earthy. In the end, I used Andrew's own definition, because that is what it means to him: "By seeing the miracles all around and counting my blessings, I feel some sense of spirituality in my soul."
When he made his interest known in what we loosely call spirituality, a friend suggested that he might like to visit his local Presbyterian church, Westminster-St Paul's, Guelph, Ont., where he is now an adherent. Not unusual for a person with autism, Andrew likes order and predictability, so when the church began major renovations, he decided to stay away for a while. Calling a minister was a disruption too, so he is waiting for the new minister to arrive before he goes back. His constant companion at church is his golden retriever service dog, Amy. He calls her his "friend maker" because she attracts attention and helps break the ice in a crowd of strangers.
That's the background. The rest of the story is best told in Andrew's own words. The questions were e-mailed to him, and he then typed them and worked on them with his facilitator. This is what he had to say:
AF: When did you first become aware of spirituality in your life? Can you remember how old you were?
AB: I was a teenager. I felt a sense of awe at times outdoors, in the country. By seeing the miracles all around and counting my blessings, I feel some sense of spirituality in my soul.
AF: Did any person or event influence you?
AB: I think I am often in the presence of spiritual people, so it rubs off. I know that man did not create the world so it must have been a miracle.
AF: What is good and bad about church?
AB: I think there are moments of spirituality at church. It is the presence of a spirit like God but not like the God they talk about. It is the atmosphere and the music and the readings and some of the good vibrations from others who are there. Church can be hard for my system with all the noise and busyness. It is hard to feel it with all the people, but I get a sense of spirituality from others. It is good to be in a spiritual place. Prayers sometimes touch me, but sometimes I don't hear them and don't get it. I get it when only one person is speaking or reading. With music, I like instrumental the best. The choir is OK. When everyone sings, it is hard for me, the noise and the standing. I like a good sermon best. The atmosphere is welcoming and safe. I think I feel wanted.
AF: What are the people like at the church you go to?
AB: I have one or two people who smile and say hello. I need church friends. I think they are kind for the most part. I don't feel they are at all comfortable. I would add that they should come and talk to me.
AF: How can the church be better for people with conditions that make communication difficult?
AB: I think reaching out and asking what we need. I want church friends who will smile to me and say hello and sit with me sometimes. I could try to stay for the snack at church afterwards. I want to invite some church friends to my home for tea and a board game or a walk, so they understand more about what it's like to be me.
In closing he adds, "In my mind, loving people is loving God. I want to be able to teach but not be a guinea pig. I like to think I can inspire others."
The autistic person is separated from the rest of us only by a communication barrier; a barrier that can be penetrated with the use of patience and imagination. That patience is rewarded by an encounter with an intelligent, compassionate and spiritual person to whom our church has much to offer, and who has much to offer the church.