Fr. Matthew Schneider, a priest on the autism spectrum, knows the challenges that autistics face in prayer, as well as the autistic traits that can be leveraged to deepen one’s prayer. With clarity and honesty, he shares from his own experience and that of others on the spectrum to give hope and confidence to readers. This ground-breaking book includes 52 meditations, which provide a coherent progression of material for prayer that can be used on a daily or weekly basis.
Father Matthew P. Schneider is an openly autistic Catholic priest. He’s originally from Calgary, Canada, but since joining the Legionaries of Christ, has done ministry across North America. He has written for many publications including the National Catholic Register, America, Crux, and Aleteia. [, and you] You can find him on social media at @FrMatthewLC, @AutisticicPriest, and FrMatthewLC.com. He currently lives in Northern Virginia, writing a doctoral thesis in moral theology.
Off the top, let me say that I write this review as an autistic Catholic woman who has hoped for many years to see more books like this in wide distribution. I am also a certified school psychologist with several years’ training and experience with respect to the autism spectrum, so I am coming into this with both professional and personal interests.
It is so good to see autism discussed from a specifically Catholic perspective. Neurodiversity is a part of many lives, yet the Catholic Church has rarely addressed the implications, gifts, and challenges specific to autism, both for individuals and the faith community. Autistic Catholics are starving for spiritual direction, validation and understanding from the institutional level. Books like this are desperately needed, and gratefully welcomed.
On to the book itself. We might consider the first half “the technical discussion,” whereby Fr. Schneider outlines several components factoring into prayer from the autistic experience. To do so, he alternates between his personal story and academic citations, all meticulously organized and well-referenced in a systematic and detailed way. Fr. Schneider touches on several relevant points to understanding the variables, giving both valuable insight and a practical framework in approaching prayer from an autistic perspective. He employs a blend of diagnostic terminology and autistic self-advocacy so that people on both sides of the coin will find familiar ground (though it should be noted that this terminology is constantly changing and over time may lose accuracy in describing the actual experience of autistic people).
Some important considerations were not explicitly brought up in the technical discussion, such as the impact of one’s relationship history, communication style and processing style on our approach to and experience of prayer; however, some of this comes through the vignettes which comprise the second half of the book. One significant omission is not explicitly discussing the impact of the sensory consequences of being perpetually on alert. Hypervigilance inhibits a person’s openness to vulnerability, curiosity, and wonder – all of which affect the degree to which we can engage in spiritual pursuits, and happens reflexively, below our conscious control. It would be helpful to see this explicitly addressed, as many autistic people (including myself) struggle with an inability to pray simply because our bodies are functioning on high alert. Another area not identified or discussed is fallout and cognitive dissonance arising for those who experience a lack of support from (and sometimes outright rejection by) our own faith communities. While no book can be exhaustive, these two points are significant enough to warrant discussion in any work which examines how prayer is experienced by autistic people.
Part Two is where this book hits its stride and delivers a rich and diverse resource on autism in the Body of Christ. Fr. Schneider here provides “52 Meditations for Autistics and Those Who Love Us” where the points of the technical discussion come to life and take on a real, personal sense for all readers. Each meditation follows the same pattern of topic, story, Scripture passage and reflection. The vignettes are poignant and real, beautifully demonstrating the points highlighted in Part One. This is where it would have been helpful to have explicitly outlined the cognitive, affective and relational foundations to approaching God in prayer, as readers would be primed to see these principles played out in the stories at hand. Nevertheless, Part Two is both a validation and affirmation for autistics and a field guide for non-autistics to cultivate empathy toward our differences in how we look, think, feel, and act.
In both Parts One and Two, Fr. Schneider stresses the importance of autistic people acting as missionaries among fellow autistics. I agree – but I argue that we are missionaries to the entire Body of Christ and the world itself, not just autistic persons. In fact, the degree to which autistics are still misunderstood by others in our own church communities suggests that this is a critical area of mission work, here and now. It is surprising to see that Fr. Schneider did not address this. I feel it is vital for fellow autistics – priests, deacons, religious, and laity alike – to come forward with enough presence that the gifts and challenges presented by neurodiversity will finally be acknowledged, and embraced, at the institutional level – for the benefit and enrichment of the entire Church.
Finally, two thoughts regarding the title of the book, which I present as points of discussion and not contention. Yes, God does love the autistic mind. However, point number one: we are more than just our minds. Too often, autistics have been viewed by what we can do and achieve, how “smart” we are, and how our intellects compensate for the traits people find less valuable or puzzling. It would be a consolation to see that God also loves, for instance, my autistic heart, since this is the part of me that is most concealed (sometimes, even to me) and occluded by muddled and unpredictable emotions. Likewise, I struggle at times to accept my autistic body, with its proprioceptive awkwardness and fluctuating neurological sensitivity. To be reminded that God loves my entire autistic self, including the body He gave me, spurs me to greater self-compassion… which, in turn, fosters greater compassion for others, as I consider we all comprise the Body of Christ. Although Fr. Schneider’s reflections proceed to validate the autistic body, heart and mind, I wonder why it’s still only the “autistic mind” getting the love, and not the whole person.
Secondly, I wish the title could more explicitly acknowledge that, in kind, autistic people love God. Again, stereotypes too often portray autistic people as self-absorbed and detached in our relationships. The mere desire to pray and understand prayer better is itself an act of love from the autistic person toward God. Yet, the title places the autistic person squarely in the passive position.
I doubt Fr. Schneider intended to portray any misconceptions in his choice of title, but these stereotypes unfortunately cast long shadows over what we now know better about autism. Our call as missionaries includes taking care to lovingly consider how to counterbalance the limits that have been put on us historically through lack of understanding and inaccurate phrasing. I hold myself to this same standard and recognize my own phrasing at times falls short, and I take feedback of this kind very seriously.
I am very grateful this book exists, and I am especially grateful for Fr. Schneider’s willingness to intersperse his research with glimpses into his own humanity as he enters the public discourse on autism and faith. May his example, and that of fellow autistic Catholics, inspire and further the discussion in Catholic circles as to how we as Church can better affirm and value the autistic members of the Body of Christ.
I was so excited to learn about Fr Schneider and reached out to him for advice for my daughter after she was diagnosed as autistic. A few years later and now two more kids and myself have been identified as autistic and I’m working with neurodiverse kids at CCD, so I couldn’t wait to read this book. Finally got the time, and it was every bit as good as I hoped it would be. I’m recommending it for my older autistic kids, and for my priest (so he can understand more, as he wants our parish to be truly welcoming of neurodiversity). Highly recommend this book.
As an autistic Christian (specifically, Anglican/Episcopalian), I really relate to the story of Jesus, feeling throughout my life that I have been ostracized by every community I have ever been part of, including video game websites, the furry fandom, and even autistic communities, given my unique perspectives, to the point where I have even been backstabbed numerous times by others I had trusted. I eventually found through random searches this book written by autistic Catholic priest Father Matthew P. Schneider, a member of the Legionnaires of Christ, and gave it a look.
He rightfully notes that autistics tend to be treated like outsiders and indicates that the brains of every autistic are physically different from those of neurotypicals, proven by brain scans. Father Schneider then states that he was good at engineering but not in other areas and that autistics tend to be good at pattern recognition, which reminded me of my own strengths and weaknesses and ability to discern trends. He divides he book into several sections that elaborate on the ableism and neurobigotry of many churches, the advantages and disadvantages autistics have when they pray, and so forth.
The latter portion of the book he devotes to fifty-two meditations for autistics preceded by stories about specific autistic Christians. Overall, this was an enjoyable book that I could relate to, given that its author is an autistic priest, although specific resources for autistics of denominations other than Catholic would have been welcome. There are also maybe a few points with which I disagree with him, such as spreading one's faith to others, which I am reluctant to do given that I don't wish to force my beliefs unto others lest I get alienated, which I am no stranger to. Regardless, I don't regret reading it and recommend it to other autistic Christians.
This book has 52 devotionals as well as a short 1st part of the book summing up the autistic experience through Fr. Matthew’s experience as well as research. Throughout the book, it is repeated over and over that God loves and speaks to autistics in a way that is personal and direct.
I think for me, this was a game changer in viewing prayer. That with disabilities and challenges, God speaks to each person in a way that works for their brain because he wired it that way. His goal, for these things, is not to change us. We aren’t broken. We are exactly how we were made to be.
Somethings powerful about that. A radical acceptance and love that is almost too good to be true.
Anyways, the reflections are great, easy to digest, and contain testimonials, statements and exposition on scripture from the autistic point of view. This book is mainly for autistics, but as someone who loves an autistic child, it was quite helpful and refreshing.
Father Michael P. Schneider splits the book into 2 parts. The 1st part is about the advantages and challenges of autistic prayer, in all the variations of prayer, and the myths and stigmas attached to autism and how autistic people pray. The 2nd part consists of meditations for autistic people, their families and/or peers to help them meditate on a small story, scripture, a reflection from Father and a short prayer. Having the book written by an autistic priest is extremely beneficial as you get a first hand account both in the life of an autistic person, and the relatability that comes with that, and the account of a religious in his experience and intellect as a priest. It would have been nice to have part 1 of the book be more fleshed out as it only lasts about 70 pages including the introduction, so it is a very short book. It’s very clearly, as it states, a guide for autistic people in prayer which is helpful and there are constant reminders about the love of God for autistics. I would recommend it.
This book is extremely Catholic, so not every point of theology is going to match up with every person of faith's or even every Christian's belief system, but on the whole I found this a very affirming and occasionally profound read, and I think any autistic Christian would find a lot of comfort and encouragement in it.
Loved this book. As the parent of an autistic son, I often wonder how much he understands about his faith and how he is best spiritually fed. I highly recommend this book as a resource for those working with or raising someone on the spectrum in the Catholic faith.
Being autistic in God's eyes is just as amazing as all his creation. The author of this book is a Roman Catholic priest diagnosed late in life with autism. He writes of many autistic people he had met and the beautiful ways the worship and pray. Yes his life has difficulties but don't all lives.