NeuroDivine

Greetings from the heart of the Church of Ireland. As an Irish Anglican, my faith is rooted in the soil of this island—a tradition that has survived centuries of “hard borders” by choosing the Via Media, the Middle Way. As a Benedictine, my life is anchored by the vows of Stability and Hospitality. And as an autistic person, my world is processed through a need for clear patterns, yet I am deeply wary of the “system-overload” caused by sudden, radical shifts in governing structures.

The recent Abuja Statement (March 6, 2026) feels like a sensory and spiritual “meltdown” in the life of our global family. It is a document of “Choose this day” ultimatums that leaves little room for the quiet, liturgical, and local Anglicanism that has defined my home for centuries. Here is why this “reordering” of the Anglican Communion feels so foreign to my neurodivergent, monastically-inclined heart.

1. Stability vs. Schism (The Benedictine Conflict)

The Benedictine vow of Stability (stabilitas) means staying with your community even when it is difficult. You don’t leave the monastery because your brother is frustrating; you stay and “listen with the ear of your heart.”

The Abuja Statement mandates “Principled Disengagement.” To me, this feels like a violation of the Rule. It suggests that if we disagree, we must stop eating at the same table and boycott the very “Instruments” that keep us talking. For an autistic person, “breaking the pattern” of our global fellowship without a clear, inclusive map creates a profound sense of spiritual vertigo.

2. Systemizing the Spirit (The Autistic Conflict)

Many autistic people are “systemizers.” We look for the internal logic of a structure. The Anglican Communion’s logic has always been Relational: we are a family gathered around the See of Canterbury and our local Primates (like Armagh).

Abuja tries to replace this Organic System (history, liturgy, family ties) with a Confessional System (the Jerusalem Declaration).

• The Logic Gap: It claims not to be a “breakaway” while simultaneously creating a rival Council and “authenticating” its own provinces.
• The Masking Requirement: For someone who has spent a lifetime “masking” to fit into neurotypical systems, this statement feels like a new, theological “mask.” It demands we perform a specific type of “orthodoxy” or be cast out of the “true” communion.

3. The “Hard Border” (The Irish Conflict)

In Ireland, we know what happens when you draw lines in the dirt. Our Church is in Covenant with the Methodist Church in Ireland, the Moravian Church, and the Porvoo Communion. These bridges are built on the idea that we can be different—even fundamentally so on some points—yet fully “in communion.”

The Abuja Statement effectively tells the Church of Ireland that our ecumenical bridges are “compromised.” It treats the “plain sense” of Scripture as a blunt instrument to build walls, whereas my Irish heart sees Scripture as a wellspring that should be shared across the fences, not used to reinforce them.

The Benedictine Scaffold: A Neuro-Friendly Alternative

In the wake of this demand for a “confessional” line in the sand, I find myself retreating to the Rule of St Benedict. To the neurotypical world, a “Rule” sounds restrictive. But to my autistic mind, it is the ultimate “Neuro-inclusive” document—a set of scaffolds rather than walls.

While the Abuja Statement relies on external policing of boundaries, St Benedict reorders through internal rhythms and accommodation:

• “The Strong Have Something to Strive For, the Weak Nothing to Run From”: In Chapter 64, Benedict instructs the Abbot to arrange everything so the “strong” are challenged but the “weak” are not crushed. Abuja creates a high-pressure “all or nothing” environment. If you don’t disengage, you are out. The Benedictine Way recognizes we move at different speeds.
• Stability as “Same-ness”: For many autistic people, routine is medicine. The Benedictine Daily Office provides a predictable “bottom-line.” Abuja introduces “Constitutional Disconnection”—a chaotic upheaval that changes the rules mid-stream. Benedict says, “We are staying here, in this prayer, with these people.”
• Discretion, the Mother of Virtues: Benedict warns against being too harsh, lest “the vessel be broken.” The Abuja Statement feels like a breaking of the vessel. It doesn’t account for the delicate bonds of a place like Ireland.

Closing: The Table is Wide

My Benedictine heart tells me that the table of the Lord is where we find our unity, not in a legal document. My autistic mind seeks a world where “belonging” isn’t a reward for “correct thinking,” but a gift of Grace.

We are a #NeuroDivine body. We are many parts, many minds, and many ways of seeing. To “disengage” is to amputate a part of the Body of Christ. As for me and my house, we will continue to “Walk Together”—even if the path is cluttered with statements and decrees.

I’d love to hear your thoughts: How do you maintain “Stability” in your own life when the systems around you start to fracture?