No, we are not all 'a little bit autistic', and this is why

Imagine, if you will, going up to a woman who has just experienced extreme sexist comments, and saying to them, "Ah, I know what this is like; we're all a little bit female, aren't we".

Yet, on a regular basis, autistic people receive the comment, "We're all a little bit autistic, aren't we".

Commonly, the person who is telling us this supposed-fact means that they like a bit of routine in their lives (as if this is what autism means).  Or that they are introverts (as if this is what autism means).

Being autistic is a specific thing.  In order to get a diagnosis, we have to fit the criteria.  Desperate need for routine or predictability, in order to avoid our brain overloading with unexpected sensory/social stuff - tick.   Different way of using social communication to most people - tick.  Very literal interpretation of language and rules - tick.

But, being autistic isn't that simple list.  Being autistic is also about a lifetime of experiences.  Experiences of exclusion, experiences of hate, experiences of struggling to access even basic things.  It's also about a lifetime of encountering the world in different ways.  Seeing, hearing, sensing the world around us in ways that are amazing, different, innovative.  It's about having a brain that is wired differently from birth, and stays that way for life (more or less), with all that this brings.  It's about a different culture and language, a different set of social protocols.  For many, a different sexuality and gender ID also.

You're not 'a little bit autistic' because you like your room to be tidy.
You're not 'a little bit autistic' because you like to spend time on your own with a book instead of going to a party.

That's not what autism is.  Autism is us, and it's our whole lives and all that we encounter.

Thank you for listening. 




The picture shows a woman, walking along a track in the countryside.  It has been raining. She is carrying a rainbow-coloured umbrella. For me, it signifies being beautifully different, but alone, a feeling that is all too common when autistic in a non-autistic culture.

Autism - Business Strengths

A strange myth about autism and business?  That autistic people are 'out there somewhere', and that businesses have to find ways to include us.  That all of us are some kind of 'worthy charitable inclusion act'. That we are a cost.  I have news; you already have autistic people in your business lives.  They're probably the ones making you a profit right now.

Generalising - as of course every autistic person is different, and non-autistic people do these things too:

Using the internet?  Autistic people built and run that.
Using computers?  Autistic people design and build those and the software.
Using Accountants?  Autistic people are excellent with figures and deadly accurate.
Using Lawyers?  Autistic people are brilliant at memorising thousands of case studies and knowing precisely which laws apply to a situation.
Using Surveyors?  Autistic sensory abilities can detect problems in buildings well before anyone else can.  Autistic 'nonsense-detecting' means you're more likely to get a fair and straightforward, accurate property negotiation.
Using a creative team? Autistic designers, artists, authors are applying extraordinary strengths and abilities to 'think outside the box', to create something amazing.

Do young autistic people have a fair chance of employment?  No.  Most are never given a chance to show what they can do.  I'm working to change that.  I can't change that without being 'out' as autistic myself.   So, I am.  And if you care about young autistic people being given a fair chance, you'll want to support people like me, I'd hope.  Can all autistic people go into employment and do a fabulous job?  No, some have a level of difficulty that means this isn't possible.  Does that mean they are a burden to society?  Absolutely not.  Every autistic person is a person of value, bringing things to this world.  It's definitely not about 'can you make big money'.  But, it's important to say that many of us can.  Even those of us who started non-verbal and sometimes still are.

I run a business.  I'm autistic.  It's our business.  Fantastic team employed.  Offices in the Thames Valley and central London. Is it some sort of charity-supported social enterprise?  Nope.  This is Professional business, fully Regulated, competing directly with the 'big guys'.  And lovely competitors they are, too.  We're blessed with fabulous customers who know that we deal fairly with everyone. We have a brilliant team of Accountants, Lawyers and website gurus who are thoroughly nice, genuine, professional people.  
We love what we do.

"Surely you must be at a disadvantage, being autistic, Ann?', some say.   Nope.  It's just different.  Autism is why we are the only business of our type in the UK that has an unbroken track record of accuracy, to our knowledge (and the knowledge of our Insurers).  An unbroken track record of zero claims for losses.  

Is it sometimes hard?  Yes.  Because we get some myths about autism, and those aren't helpful.  Because we also get a very few people who are just plain prejudiced and who ignore the fantastic track record and decide they don't do business with 'people like that'. That's OK - there's lots of less accurate firms to choose from.  Because we get a very few competitors who think they'll win more business if they tell people some myths about autism...so we don't get the work.   Most are lovely, of course.

We love our business, and we love being the 'eyes and ears' of our clients, making sure that they make as much profit as possible, in as wise and moral a way as possible.  

If you find an autistic business, the correct phrase to utter is 'brilliant!'

You'll find any number of autistic people around you already.  Many may not know they're autistic.  Many may have hidden it for years, concerned about whether they will encounter an unfortunate reaction.

Make your own business 'autism including'.  Find out about difference, and about what autism really is (a sensory/social communication difference, present from birth, not a mental illness).  Get some training for the staff.  Brilliant autistic trainers available for that. 

Be clear that you value what people bring, and are relaxed about doing business with all kinds of people.  

Because together, we're stronger.





The picture at the top shows piles of coins, with a red arrow showing the amount of profit a business is making.  The arrow is going upwards, showing increased profit. 

"Autistic People Aren't My Priority" - A Challenge for Christians

Tempting, isn't it - to think that autistic people are 'out there somewhere', perhaps in a care home?  Someone else's 'responsibility'.  Nothing to do with us, in our church.  Well, perhaps we know an autistic child, and sometimes nod in pity at the parents as we pass them in the street?

The picture above shows some of the reality, rather than this set of myths.  It shows a picture of a large church, with arrows pointing to all the contents and activities that could have had autistic input. If you are in a church building, you're in a building pretty much built, designed, fitted out and run by autistic people.  Looking at art or sculpture?  Quite possibly an autistic sculptor or artist did that.  Listening to music?  Very likely you're listening to autistic organists, choir members.   Listening to a sermon?  Is the Priest autistic?  The people in the pews, praying - some autistic.  The people offering welcome and friendship - some autistic.  Every person has something to bring.  Those praying with others - some autistic. The same as anyone else in the world.

Look around you.  In the pews, the woman, dressed neatly and smiling.  Autistic.
Go outside.  See the people sleeping rough under the bridge?  Some studies show 6 out of 10 homeless people are autistic.

Working with groups?  1 in 30 of their number will be autistic.

Autism isn't 'out there somewhere in a care home'.  It's been around you all your life.  You just didn't know the people were autistic.

So, when I hear people in our churches say, "Autistic people aren't my priority - I don't have to know anything about them", I gently challenge them.   What do they mean by that?  What fears or misunderstandings lie behind that statement?  How do we work together to find out how to break down those barriers?   How do we make better use of the fantastic gifts that autistic people bring to every group, if given the chance to do so?  

I am blessed to be working with churches and church leaders in many places.  Training clergy.  Advising on access.  Collaborating on projects.  All as an external consultant, not a formal adviser.  I'm autistic.

 And, one day, soon, I hope, churches will be proud to look round them at all we already do for God and community, and say, 

"Autistic people are my priority".

Autism: Verbal/Non-Verbal. A False Binary

The strange myths and illogical beliefs around autism include verbal/non-verbal.  The idea that either we can totally not speak, or can always speak.  It's nonsense.

For a start, if we look in the DSM V diagnostic checklist for autism, speech, or lack of speech, isn't even part of autism now.  It's a different classification.

A number of autistic people, me included, also have speech and language difficulties of some sort. 

What do we mean by speech/useful speech?

Do we mean that a child has no ability at all to say a single word?
Do we mean that they also cannot write or type words?

Do we mean that they can speak sometimes to say individual things, but are non-verbal at other times?

Do we mean that they can speak for a short time in a social conversation, then cannot manage to speak further?

Do we mean that they can repeat individual words over and over?   Or, perhaps phrases over and over?

Do we mean that they can put phrases together, for example ones learned from TV or radio, and attempt conversation that way?

Do we mean that their difficulties with speech mean that they cannot defend themselves in an argument, or ask for things they need in shops and at the Doctors?

Do we mean that they have difficulty with some language, e.g. social concept words?

Do we mean that their voice tone and pacing is so unusual that people cannot decode it easily?

Do we mean that they have delayed answers to things - perhaps responding minutes or hours later?

Do we mean that they go to build a friendship with others using words, but it goes horribly wrong?

What do we mean by 'non-verbal', and why are so many insistent on describing language as just this strange binary :  "Verbal/non-verbal". 

Me, generalising....I could sometimes repeat individual words as a young child.  I could repeat individual phrases.  I learned to copy down words and phrases.  Eventually, I could piece together enough words and phrases to write stories.  I could sometimes read out words and sentences, without really understanding what it meant.  Mostly, if asked, I'd hide.  I could also attempt to say very short answers with others, e.g. yes, no, please, thank you.  But in any conversation, up to age 10, I was baffled.  And anxious.  And mostly non-verbal.

I would try to decode what the other person said.  My brain thinks in pictures, so I had to visualise it.  Then, I'd visualise my answer.  Then, my brain would have to try to find the right combination of words and phrases to respond. That took a long time.  Sometimes, nothing would happen - I'd go to talk, and there was no response from my body.  Or I'd say something garbled.  Or I'd say a response so late that it made no sense to anyone; the conversation had moved on.

People thought I was shy.  Or rude.  Or both.  I spent two years in a class in secondary school, and the teacher during Parent Evening had no idea I was one of his pupils.  He had never heard me speak.  I mostly didn't.  I was too anxious to attempt it, because it would go horribly wrong most of the time.

Some days, as an adult, I'm hardly verbal.   Even though I'm an extravert and love being with people, sometimes I cannot speak.  I can nod.  Maybe I can say the short word answers - yes, no, thanks, please.  Maybe I can think of some stock phrases to say.  (Hoping they're the right ones).

Other days, I can talk really well.

Much depends on how exhausted I am.  Whether I feel well.  Whether I've overloaded myself with sensory/social input.

Can I in theory ask for things in shops?  Yes. 
Can I always ask for things in shops?  No.
Can I in theory explain an illness to a Doctor?  Yes.

Can I always explain an illness to a Doctor?  No.
So, am I verbal?  Am I non-verbal?  Yes.  It's a yes to both things.

The moment I'm in a conflict situation with an angry person, I'm stuck. I go to speak, nothing happens.  Nothing at all.  The moment I'm in sensory distress, I go to speak, nothing happens.  The more tired I get, the more I put the wrong words in sentences, or mispronounce words randomly.

I find workarounds.  Making sure I'm in a good sensory environment.  Resting before and after a speaking engagement.  Talking on subjects I know, where I already know what to say and how to say it.

Most people would never know of my struggles with language, because they are unaware of the absolutely huge effort I put into disguising it.

I wish more professionals would understand that autism is not a set of binaries; "high functioning/low functioning", "verbal/non-verbal".  Everything is a four-dimensional spectrum of abilities, which change over time and can vary day by day/hour by hour.

Be aware that some people - autistic or otherwise - will struggle with some speech ability.
Be cautious about picking on people to read something out, or contribute verbally.
Allow people to contribute in ways they can handle.  It might be sign language.  It might be written.
And, be aware that young people who are 'quiet' may actually be struggling to speak.




The picture shows a representation of a group of diverse people.  The ability to speak is just as diverse.

Pay for Autistic Expertise: Equality, Respect.

The photo shows a hand, with one coin in the palm of the hand.

I've been discussing pay, amongst autistic advocates, speakers and professionals.  It seems that a lot of autistic speakers at conferences are being paid almost nothing, or nothing.

I am speaking from my own position of 'privilege', as an autistic business professional who is paid a substantial sum in outside industry.   I also work within autism, as a national speaker and consultant, from time to time.  For various groups.  Many of those are wonderful, and who treat me and others very well.  So this is not a complaint by me about my own treatment.  Here, I'm using my voice to signal a huge area of general injustice.  I want autistic expertise to be treated with more respect. I know so many fantastic autistic speakers and other professionals who are truly given the message that they are worth nothing.  It has to stop.

Autism Conferences:

There are a number of 'superstars' who command high fees.  Sums in excess of £2000 an event.  Nearly all of these appear to be non-autistic diagnostic professionals.  Or, diagnostic professionals who may be autistic, but are not disclosing this to anyone - so will get the 'privilege' from others that goes with that.

What do I mean by privilege?  I mean that life is often easier for non-autistic people, compared to autistic people.  There is no automatic expectation of incompetence, low IQ, etc.  There is usually no expectation that non-autistic people will accept zero pay "for work experience", as a main speaker at an event.  There are lower chances of assault, abuse, defrauding.  Getting respected as a professional is generally easier if you're not autistic.  Getting book deals at a fair rate of pay is easier.  Getting media performances at a fair rate of pay is easier.  I've had a lot of conversations with Psychiatrists and Psychologists who are autistic, and have never disclosed it.  "My career would be over", said more than one, to me.   Fair point.  I'm not about to force people to disclose autism.  But, in this blog, anyone who isn't 'out' as autistic, I will describe as 'non-autistic', because that is how they are being treated by others.  

(I am very aware that masking autism has its own cost - I did that for too many years, and it was exhausting beyond measure.  Now, I'm positive about autism and the things we bring to the world, and I want others to be positive too.  Taking that step to be 'out' has its own cost.  I chose it, because I want to demonstrate what I believe in.  I'm thankful that I am in position to do so.  Others may not be.  I am working towards a world where there is zero cost for saying "Hi, I'm autistic".  Work with me on that, please, if you can.)  

Let's look at some example numbers.  At a national conference, say there's 400 people.  Lets say they are paying £100 each to be there, on average.  (Often it's a lot more).
That's £40,000.  
The organisers have to pay for the conference centre and food/drink, certainly.  Plus staff time to organise it.  Plus technology.  The usual things.   That costs (say) £15,000.  I also organise conferences.  That's not a guess - it's a fair estimate.   
So, in this example, we have £25,000 'profit' to pay the speakers and help run the charity/company, etc.   That's a lot.

We know that the diagnostic professional non-autistic speaker can command a fee of some £2000+.  At big international events for business, keynote speakers can get anything up to £500,000+.  No, really.   Half a million quid for the 'big guys'.  The famous TV stars, etc.

Guess what the autistic speakers get for a national conference.
I mean autistic speakers who are bringing equivalent experience.  Equivalent expertise.  Equivalent new research.  Equivalent time and training skills.  

On average, about £200, it seems.  Was that your guess?
Often, only travel expenses.  Or a book token.

It takes several days of time to prepare for a conference.  Research, slides, background reading.  The travel time.  The time there.  The time to recover.   All for a book token?

Better than that, the non-autistic 'keynote speakers' often get their own room, their own dedicated staff.  All the autistic speakers get to share a not-as-nice room together.  The non-autistic speakers even get business-class flights paid for, in some cases.  Lovely.

The billing for the event will often read, (summarised...)
"Come and see the amazing Non Autistic Keynote Speaker.  They have written books, done TV shows, they're amazing!"
(Oh, by the way, some autistic people will speak too - I think one of them is called Sid, oh wait, no, perhaps I mean Fred, not sure, but they'll talk to you about maps or something for a few minutes)."

I exaggerate only slightly.  Oh my.  Can you imagine going to a conference on, say, women.  There's the keynote speaker: "Come and listen to the Amazing Man speaking about women!  (Oh, by the way, some women will speak too - not quite sure what they'll say yet, but isn't it nice of them to turn up - we'll give them a round of applause for doing so).  I bet you'd be horrified.

Be horrified.  Because you're often watching that happen, in conferences about autism.

"But people won't pay to listen to autistic speakers, Ann", say some organisers.  "We need the money, and they will only pay big money to listen to non-autistic diagnostic people.  We can't afford to pay the autistic people a lot.  It would take out all the profit. "

Absolute nonsense.  If you can't afford to pay people, put the price up to a level where you can afford to pay them.  Jolly well make sure people respect and appreciate the expertise of the autistic professionals in that room.   If you have £3000 to pay all the speakers, do not give £2000 to just one person, and £100 each to the others.  Pay them all a reasonable sum by dividing it more evenly. It's not hard to find solutions that are respectful and appropriate.

The reality is that most non-autistic speakers are not saying anything from lived experience. Yes, they have met a lot of autistic people.  They borrow our ideas and make money out of them, a lot of the time.  And...their work is often 'medical model', in most cases.  What do I mean by that?  I mean the idea that autistic people are patients, in need of fixing.  Possibly to be paraded in front of the audience as examples to show how marvellous the diagnostic person is.  ("Living zoo exhibits"). Nothing more.  It lacks credibility in what is now one of the fastest growing, most dynamic and pioneering fields of human justice and equality.  

Autistic people have our own 'voices', whether spoken or through technology.  So many are on low pay because they are taken advantage of, not because they have no skills, no expertise.  So many are trapped on benefits, unable to earn more than a token sum without ruining their benefits pay...and never given the chance to earn a living wage.  Not by any of the multi-million-pound industries that benefit from 'therapies' and 'information' about us.  Extraordinary.

We have our own expertise to bring to events.  National professional-level speakers at major events who are bringing the very latest research, from actually-autistic people, as actually-autistic people.  And, the voices of those who are talking about their lives are of huge worth.  The cost to them, of standing on that stage, revealing such personal and possibly humiliating detail, can be huge.  Days of preparation.  Days of recovery for some.  To be paid nothing?   Or a token bus fare and a book voucher?  Is this how you want your own young autistic person to grow up, thinking that's all they are worth?  Of course not.  "But who will look after my child when I die?", so many parents say.  Your child could, in most cases, look after themselves, financially - if only we would invest in making life doable, and in paying autistic people a living wage for equivalent work.

Many attendees at conferences have been taught that only non-autistic diagnosticians are worth paying for.  They hear it from the organisers, and they believe it's true, I would say.   It isn't true.  Hearing from diagnostic professionals can be a great thing.  Learning from therapists can be very valuable.  But, if they had the answers, why - 20 years on - are we still in the same 'low-pay, high-abuse' zone, as autistic people?  It's because we are failing to value autistic people as people, in my view and experience.  As people worthy of respect.  
Do some people work for nothing, for friends and charities, by choice?  Yes.  And, if it's by choice, that's fine.  I do, sometimes. Anyone, autistic or not, could make their own personal decision not to be paid, or to get a low fee.
But....

What this multi-billion-pound autism industry is often doing is basically lying to autistic people about pay.  Making autistic people work for almost nothing, pretending it's all they can afford.   Well, that's exploitation. 
If our conference organisers are telling attendees that only non-autistic people are worth paying, that's prejudice.

It's injustice.  We should not be supporting it.

Next time you go to book a conference, ask whether the autistic speakers are being paid a rate that reflects their time, effort and expertise.  Perhaps don't attend events where we are on stage as 'zoo exhibits' for a non-autistic person to use to make themselves look great.  Or which show autistic people only as alleged patients to be fixed.  We are not ill-with-autism.  This is a neurodiversity.  Yes, some have multiple disabilities/conditions as well as being autistic, and for them, life is very tricky.  I'm talking specifically about autism here, though.

If you are a superstar non-autistic speaker, reflect on the message you're giving to others.  Are you showcasing the skills and talents of autistic people?  Are you 'boosting' the voices of autistic fellow professionals?  Are you demonstrating really good co-working, skilling people up to work alongside you?  Making sure they are treated fairly?  Use your power. Use your privilege.  Help change the view of the world with us.

Autistic people need to live.  We have bills to pay.  We don't live under hedges and eat berries between conferences; We're not all in 'care homes', wheeled out for conferences.  Only 1.6% of autistic people live in supported accommodation.  I bet you thought it was more than that.  Most of us have apartments, houses, families to support.  We need to buy clothes, food, toiletries, same as you do.  No, a book voucher will not buy those things. Failing to pay us equals unemployment . Poverty.  Short lives. 

Pay good autistic people.  
Fairly.
Because you don't want a future where your child is worth nothing.

Thank you for listening. 

Let's talk about Harmful Ablesplaining and Autism

Ablesplaining.  In which some non-disabled people tell disabled people about what disability is and isn't.  About what we should and should not be feeling, or experiencing, as disabled people. Presenting themselves as The Experts.  Talking over the top of our experiences, discounting them, minimising them.  Presenting us as weak, incompetent, malicious or otherwise if we say that their explanations are not correct, or their conduct is dangerous or inappropriate.

A few months ago, I went to a conference about disability.  It was held in a well respected centre.  A well known author was the conference leader.  This leader is not disabled.  They have an autistic person in their family.  There is no need for names here, because this is a situation where I and others talked directly to the group concerned, and are working to sort it out. It is one example out of many, from my own experiences, and that of many others.

For several hours, we were told incorrect or negative things about autism/disability.  Using the autistic young person's photo and name.  Without their permission, it seems.  Disabled people were described by a participant as 'evil'.  That went unchallenged by the leader. The sensory environment was hell for some of us, when a simple bit of alteration could have sorted it out.

I soon became non-verbal and in a fairly 'shut-down' state.  Other autistic individuals in the room were likewise distressed or angry.

It took me a week to get myself OK again.
It took one of the other disabled participants more than a week, and they were physically ill during much of that from the stress.

When we raised our concerns with the chief of the well-respected centre, we were told that there were a variety of opinions, and some enjoyed it.  

It's not OK.

There is never a need to put solely a non-disabled person on stage to 'ablesplain' disability to disabled people.  One should look for respectful co-working.  One should find disabled people to be the experts also.

There is never a need to present incorrect information to an audience, and then describe it as a different point of view.  No, it's just incorrect.

There is never a need to run a disability conference without taking account of good, clear, existing materials on how to make it disability-accessible for most people.  No hearing loop.  No large print. Flickering overhead lighting.  Why? Those are basics.  Absolute basics.

"Oh, those disabled people are just looking to make trouble".  No, we're looking to be able to survive from one day to the next, without being made ill.  Able to go home and look after our families, many of whom also live with various disabilities.  And we'd like to pay a good sum of money for something we learn from, and benefit from.  Not something which floors us.

Quite simple, really.

There are plenty of allies out there.  People who are not disabled, but who are respectful.  Who ask.  Who listen.  Who learn.  I am hugely honoured to share life with them.  People who share the stage with us.  People who use their own voice to amplify ours, to point to us, to include us.

But goodness me, there's some attitudes out there that belong in the distant past.  

If you are running any sort of disability conference, who are your speakers?  Are they disabled?  Are they working with people who are, in really respectful ways?  Are they doing/arranging a proper check of environment, to make sure the basics are there?  Are they checking that individual needs beyond those basics have been considered?

It's not good enough to say 'Well, other people enjoyed it', if many of your disabled participants are left ill and in distress.  At all.

Thank you for listening.



The photo shows a white middle aged man in a red sweater, saying, "I'm no expert, like you are, but let me explain in any case".

Inclusion - a core Christian value - guest blog by Bishop John Pritchard

The Church at its best is a place where all are welcome, nobody is perfect, and everyone is gifted. I know it doesn’t always seem that way but that’s only to say that Christians, not surprisingly, fail to live like their Leader (‘I love your Christ,’ said Gandhi, ‘but I hate your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.’) 

But let’s stick with the vision. The Church tries to live in the spirit of this piece of doggerel: 

He drew a circle that shut me out,
heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win.
We drew a circle that took him in.

Churches aim to be places where anyone at any stage on or off the spiritual journey can feel at home and know they’ll be taken seriously, whether devout believer or someone putting the smallest toe in the water of faith. If the church becomes a gated community it has ceased to follow Jesus’ unfailing practice of inclusion and has instead become a sect - which is what happens to any group that sets up tight boundaries of admission and acceptable behaviour. 

The former Archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey, wrote: ‘The glory of Christianity is its claim that small things really matter and that the small company, the very few, the one man, the one woman, the one child, are of infinite worth…. The infinite worth of one is the key to the Christian understanding of many.’

You can see where this conviction comes from. It’s there in so many of the stories of Jesus whose radical inclusivity threatened the religious and political establishment of his day. Take his treatment of the ten lepers in Luke 17. The background of course was a very stratified society. The combination of Roman rule and Jewish culture had a profound impact on Palestinian society. The Roman Empire promised peace, security and a pay cheque at the end of the month - unless, of course, you were a slave, in which case you had virtually no rights. And unless you were a small farmer, who couldn't keep up with taxes and had to sell your land to wealthy landowners, and then were in their power. And unless you were a woman, in which case your duty was to marry by the age of fourteen and produce a clutch of children. After all, the first prayer in the Synagogue said 'Blessed art thou, O Lord, who has not made me a woman.'
So all was well in this society unless you were a slave, a small farmer, a woman – oh, or a Samaritan or a Gentile. This unfortunately put you beyond God's blessing, which was intended just for the Jewish people, as God had made abundantly clear in the forty years of arduous training in the desert and in the 'shock and awe' invasion of Canaan. God was a jealous God. So all was well, unless you were a slave, a small farmer, a woman, a Samaritan or a Gentile – or a tax collector (and so in the pay of the Romans and clearly taking a sizeable rake-off). That made you a hate-figure. And it didn't pay to be a prostitute, either, because you endangered the whole people before God. Even your tithes would not be accepted, so unclean were you to the righteous (= self-righteous). Otherwise all was well – except of course for the unclean, which meant lepers, women with normal or abnormal bodily emissions, women after childbirth, or anyone who had been in contact with a dead body. Oh, and those with mental illness and disabilities. 

By the way, there were a few others who had a problem with the settled social order, that is, the ten per cent of people who failed to show up on the radar at all – day labourers, beggars, outlaws and robbers (sorry about that). So all was well in this ordered imperial/Jewish society unless you were a slave, a small farmer, a woman, a Samaritan, a Gentile, a tax collector, a prostitute, unclean, mentally ill, disabled, a day labourer, a beggar, a robber or an outlaw. 

The glorious thing about Jesus was that he simply refused to play this game. He undermined it at every point, going out of his way to include all these social rejects and indeed to give them pride of place in the social demography of the Kingdom. Lepers were one such group. They kept their distance, living in colonies on the edge of towns, near the main routes so they could beg, but not so close that they would be offensive.

It often seems as if our society looks on people with physical disabilities or mental health problems either suspiciously (making fallacious links between, for example, autism and certain forms of anti-social behaviour) or, alternatively, condescendingly (as in ‘does he take sugar?’) Society doesn’t invite such people to its parties – they get left off our lists. But unerringly they’re drawn to Jesus. People who are excluded often recognise the one who ‘drew a circle that took them in.’

And so it was that the ten lepers made their way to Jesus. They knew that Jesus broke the rules that paralysed Palestinian society. He spoke to the wrong people (women, Samaritans, Gentiles, children, outcasts, foreigners, sinners) in the wrong places (parties, in the street, ordinary people’s houses) at the wrong times (the Sabbath for example) in the wrong way (without involving the priests). It was quite a charge sheet.

But these lepers were drawn to Jesus. They knew who would take them seriously. I dare say the Big Issue sellers have the same instinct. 

This time Jesus got at least one thing right and he told the lepers to go and get their healing signed off by the priests. Jesus was recognising that healing had a social dimension to it as well as a physical one. Indeed, being accepted as a full participating member of society is a profoundly healing experience. Desmond Tutu was just a child when he went to hospital with his mother. As they walked down a corridor a tall white priest who they didn’t know came towards them. They made space for him, but he raised his hat out of respect for Tutu’s mother. Young Desmond was amazed; he had never seen a white man show any respect for a black woman. It made a deep mark on him - the prophet of justice and freedom was being formed. As theologian Hans Kung said, ‘The Kingdom of God is a healed creation.’ Healing has a social dimension and the way we include those with differences of ethnicity, gender, sexuality, religion, mental or physical make up etc., is a crucial part of the healing of individuals and a decisive element of a healthy society.

Extraordinarily the lepers set off – even though they hadn’t yet been healed! It was only as they were heading for town that they found that their leprosy was clearing up. The thing was, they trusted Jesus. He had a connection with them that was deeper than conventional social mores. They knew they mattered to him and had a distinct identity and value. It was so much more than they usually got. 

Then there was another twist in the story. One of the (former) lepers peeled off and returned to Jesus and threw himself at Jesus’ feet to thank him. And this man, note, was a Samaritan and therefore doubly a reject. Proper Jews had nothing to do with Samaritans; they couldn’t even worship on the proper mountain for heaven’s sake! But here was this outcast coming back, the only one of the ten, because he realised that being healed was something deeper than merely being cured. He saw that wholeness was different from fixing a body. At some deep level he recognised that wholeness is a complex network of factors to do with body, mind, soul, relationships, social acceptance and so on. It was that wholeness he had come back to thank Jesus for.

Jesus now completed the process. ‘Go on your way,’ he said; ‘your faith has made you well.’ The deepest healing that day was of one leper encountering the unconditional love of God, love in its pure, uncut form, and being transformed.

I once met a woman in her mid thirties. She was very small and used a wheelchair. She’d lost her sight, mainly because of ineptitude and neglect in her childhood. She was also recovering from cancer. She’d started a degree and happily met a man on her course whom she married. Tragically he died just a few years later. Nevertheless, this young woman was full of vitality and good humour. Indeed she seemed to me to be one of the most ‘alive’ people I’d ever met. Her faith had made her whole, that and her indomitable spirit which was, in turn, fed by her faith. She knew she had a place in society because she had a place in the Kingdom as a child of God. He drew a circle that took her in.

The Church has struggled to embody the radical inclusivity of Jesus just as any institution struggles to maintain the charism of the founding vision. As the Church adapted from being a movement in the hearts of men and women to being a religion with an established place in society so it had to set up structures to ensure its viability and sustainability. It’s hard to hand on a movement to the next generation; you need a recognisable framework of belief and belonging. But that’s when the trouble sets in. People start to defend boundaries and set entrance criteria. They construct ever more complex and restrictive standards of behaviour, seeking to demarcate the distinctiveness of the institution and maintain the purity of the original vision. 

The walls grow higher and higher, the language of belonging ever more arcane. The end result is the tragic denial of the central message of the Founder that we are all reconciled to God and to each other. ‘The wall of division has been broken down’ (Ephesians 2.14). ‘You are all one in Christ Jesus’ (Galatians 3.28). ‘For freedom Christ has set us free’ (Galatians 5.1). The quotes can be multiplied over and over again.

The seeds of a new world are all there in the title deeds of Christianity but it often takes time for men and women to catch up and realise what gold they have in their hands. Sometimes, as with the abolition of slavery, it’s as if there’s a slow burning fuse that takes many centuries to come to its ‘kairos’ moment, and only then is it realised that the old building of beliefs has been gutted, stripped and is derelict inside. It doesn’t need an explosive device; all it needs is a push and it’ll collapse.

Sometimes society is ahead of the Church; sometimes the Church is ahead of society. But in either case, whether recognised or not, the life and teaching of Jesus is very often the inspiration behind the forward movement of social thinking. The inclusion of every person, whatever their race, religion, sexuality or disability is one such movement. As ever, Jesus was way ahead of his time.

A young man in his twenties wrote in a Sunday newspaper about his very disfiguring disease of neurofibromatosis. He said: ‘I kind of got used to the bullying, and people staring at me. I almost felt like shouting: Bring it on! C’mon, what have you got? The more people stared, the more I rebelled. I was fighting fire with fire. The only place that didn’t happen was at church. I know this is going to sound like a cliché, but when I walked into the church it was the first time that nobody seemed to care what I looked like. Initially I went there to do a bit more rebelling, but everybody was so warm, friendly... I don’t go around shouting it from the rooftops, but I’m a Christian.’

That church was true to its Lord. They had drawn a circle that took him in.


+John Pritchard









The picture at the top shows a woman sitting on steps.  Around her an empty space.  Beyond that, a circle of others, all chatting with one another, but not with her.
The picture at the bottom is one of Bishop John, who was Lord Bishop of Oxford and commissioned the autism guidelines for the Church of England, written by me in collaboration with many fine others.  Bishop John continues to offer wisdom and retreats, amongst other duties and skills.