Abstract
The title of Grant Macaskill’s recent work is deceptively short and simple, much like the book itself. A plethora of sub-titles could have been added, which might have hinted at the surprising insights in ecclesiology, the fresh yet accessible reading of both scriptural and medical texts, and the depth of practical theology offered up by this biblical scholar. For, in this work, the reader does not find a book simply about autism (although there is no doubt that the rigour and detail of Macaskill’s early review of the literature allows for that), but a book which, in the best of the tradition of disability theology, allows one to read anew both scripture and the church in the faithful witness of the lives of those who live with autism.
This is clear from the very outset. Macaskill pledges that, as he is writing for both academics and the wider public alike, he will not shy away from the technical language but will rather explain the terms (p. 4). The result of this is that rarity: a book of academic rigour which I have nonetheless (near unremittingly) recommended to those in the field, friends affected by autism, and students alike. It is theologically profound, yet utterly accessible. As short and as clear as its title, yet as far-reaching as I have implied; it is a joy.
Macaskill begins with a careful unpacking of the term ‘autism’, along with the potential problems that lie with such a label. He begins with a central definition (that of the UK National Autistic Society) of autism as ‘a lifelong, developmental disability that affects how a person communicates with and relates to other people, and how they experience the world around them’ (p. 11). This first chapter considers more than just the label ‘autism’, but what ‘autism’ labels. This consideration takes in the linguistic roots of the word (p. 12), the controversial view regarding immunisation (p. 13), historical research and the difficulties therein (pp. 16–17), with constant reference to literature from the fields of both physical and human sciences. Macaskill is clear in his position that ‘autism is a developmental condition associated with differences in the physical neurology of the person’ (p. 13). Yet, he moves from that to discuss the complex and challenging nature of this subject, particularly the danger of understanding a ‘spectrum’ ‘in linear and one-dimensional terms’ (p. 17). He accepts that both the writers of the literature and those who live with autism may feel misrepresented. He calls this ‘unavoidable’ (p. 5). I would be loath to disagree; my own experience of the literature would point towards Macaskill avoiding this better than most.
Herein lies another strength visible throughout this work: the deep level of sensitivity and coherence with which he works through the threads of this topic, and those drawn into its grasp. There is a tremendous poise in this work as Macaskill engages across spheres, as a theologian dealing with neuro-atypicality (pp. 11–43), a biblical scholar delving into areas of practical theology (pp. 163–91), and an evangelical dealing with gender and sexuality (pp. 176–86). At each turn, he pre-empts critiques. The biblical passages are worked through with the nuance and delicacy one might expect of an academic of Macaskill’s stature, then disseminated with a simple clarity which one might not.
From this opening discussion, he moves to thinking ‘more carefully about how the Bible, considered as the normative and sacred Scripture of the Christian tradition, should function to shape our thinking about autism’ (p. 43). In this, his theological cards are laid firmly on the table. Working as I am within an Evangelical institution, I am grateful for this aspect of the book. So often, academic theology has an assumed and implicit default towards liberal Protestantism which is not sociologically accurate. By situating the actual ecclesial tradition from which he writes, Macaskill does more than transcend the hand-waving towards a church that does not actually exist. He provides resources for the many theologians who do labour within evangelical Christian traditions to challenge students towards appropriate self-criticism. In both this second chapter (pp. 43–70) and his later discussion of sexuality (pp. 176–90), I have found an ally in my constant admonition that cease labelling one position as “biblical” and another as “unbiblical”. I have found an accomplice in the assertion that, ‘We are always making a range of assumptions about what texts say and how they are to be contextualised in relation to other parts of the Bible’ (p. 183). I read Macaskill’s words with a sharp exhale of relief.
I breathed a similar exhale of relief as I considered my own past (often failed) attempts as a church leader to integrate those with autism into large, ‘successful’ churches. To this, the deft ecclesiology incorporated in chapter 3 packed a particularly pertinent punch. This ‘punch’, rooted in Macaskill’s focus on the word ‘incarnational’, is the lens through which he reads all four gospels (p. 74). He states it thus: ‘The Word became flesh, but the particular flesh that he became was the offspring of a family whose history was defined by its special relationship with God’ (p. 75). He then takes us through that relationship, drawing our attention to the Hebrew scriptures, the neglect of which he calls ‘disastrous’ for ‘disability theology’ (p. 76). He pays particular attention to the named women, the non-Israelites in ‘the very gene line of Jesus’ (p. 77). He concludes that ‘The mention of these women . . . opens the New Testament with a particularly suggestive pattern: God involves those whom society would treat with contempt (or even fear) (p. 77). The church, he suggests, is not quite there.
In a deft move against the dualism which so often permeates such thinking, Macaskill invokes Paul’s use of sarx as ‘constitutional sinfulness’ (p. 86), a sinfulness that ‘distorts our values and affects our ability to perceive truth’ (p. 87), a sinfulness that connects to Paul’s earlier discussion of the existence of factions within the church (p. 88). It does not need a practical theologian to make the obvious jump between scripture and practice here. Macaskill states his point boldly: ‘The church is not a safe place just because it is the church’ (p. 97).
He outlines the specifics of this, focusing on how our near-idolatrous obsession with ‘charismatic personalities’ (p. 90) fits those with autism so poorly. Macaskill then moves to highlight the ways in which we ‘hide our real thoughts and feelings’ (p. 116), the many untruths that we tell through our enculturated social practices. He shows the ways in which autism, with its frequent inability to hide in this way, may be a prophetic voice, showing our untruths for what they are: socially accepted lies. He then considers the exclusion of those who cannot cope with a sensory environment as a direct contradiction to the Pauline admonition that ‘when one member suffers we all suffer together with it’ (p. 123). In all of this, scripture and practice join in a deep challenge which is difficult to miss. That challenge is continued throughout the rest of the work. The central question that pervades all that Macaskill writes, from hints in early chapters (p. 15) to the full-blown crescendo mentioned above, is this: If we consider the lives of those with autism in our midst, are we, as the church, truly living out scripture as we say we are? Demonstrated rather than constantly stated is the accumulating evidence from start to finish of this book that we are not. I, for one, was left deeply convinced, yet troubled by this.
Herein lies my only critique of this book. The accessibility and potential breadth of Macaskill’s audience is, of course, a benefit of this book, especially on such an important subject. Yet, with that accessibility comes a certain measure of responsibility—the responsibility to respond to the question, ‘what now?’ How do we take this truth-telling to our churches in such a way that we can listen, understand, and make practical steps to improve? For, sadly, churches are not always so willing to accept such challenges. How can one equip students to read such a book and leave inspired, rather than frustrated with their inability to contextualise such wisdom? I suppose, therein lies the answer. This is the work for practical theologians like myself. Such work is made clearer and more pressing through this uncomfortable, prophetic book. I am grateful for it.