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  • Beany Brain #95: Book Review (Faith, Hope and Autism by John Allister) + Doctor Who: AuDHD?

Beany Brain #95: Book Review (Faith, Hope and Autism by John Allister) + Doctor Who: AuDHD?

Beany Brain: loving our jumping-bean brains!

Welcome to this issue of the Beany Brain! I hope today’s newsletter will bounce us up as we contemplate the upsides and challenges of being neurodivergent, a little beauty, some creativity, and just general yeehawesomeness.

Table of Contents

Photo by Abigail Munday

Faith, Hope and Autism: Learning To Love Neurodiversity

Let me just say first off: OXFORD COMMA.

But it is a British book by a British author and I am in Britain, so I will stop quibbling.

(The title on the cover of the book doesn’t use any commas, but if you look it up the official title is Faith, Hope and Autism: Learning To Love Neurodiversity.)

OK, now back to our regularly-scheduled program.

Thank you to my friend, Ms. K, for loaning me this book last week—it’s written by her friend, the author and Anglican priest, John Allister, who is actually autistic.

5/5 stars, folks.

And I only give that rating in Goodreads to books that I want to reread and I think are outstanding in some way.

My favorite parts of Faith, Hope and Autism were the letters that Future John wrote to Past John (PJ).

He’s realistic and also encouraging:

You can’t be anything you want to be, but when you get to know yourself well, you can start to find out what you can do, and how to get there in a way that fits with the person God has made you to be. And you’ll be amazed at the things you can do!

All the best,

Future John

Future John seems to be in his late forties, and Past John is mostly in his teenage years, as far as I can tell. Future John doesn’t get an official diagnosis for autism until he’s in his forties, and he’s wishing his younger self could’ve benefited from this knowledge and this grace.

There are lots of letters to Past John included, although the book is mainly about how the church can be more inclusive for neurodivergent people.

Yes.

Please.

John Allister says:

In the US, autistic children are less likely than any other group in society to attend church.

And he cites sources.

I believe it too.

Read that again:

In the US, autistic children are less likely than any other group in society to attend church.

I think I remember Jesus saying this:

Let the little children come to me, but only if they’re quiet and potty trained by age 1.5 and not verbally stimming or jumping around or only eating white and yellow foods.

Hmmmm.

Methinks not. (Maybe that was just in the NAV: New Abigail Version.)

John Allister thinks of neurodivergencies as a different language or a different culture. It’s not wrong—it’s just that neurotypical people and neurodivergent people can’t always understand each other.

But how about this?

One of the wonderful things about working hard on a culture where autistic people feel as if they belong is that it means lots of other groups can feel as if they belong too, and vice versa.

And this:

[I]f you have two new people at church, one of whom is outgoing, charming and friendly, and the other can’t look you in the eye or have much of a conversation, that tells you nothing about which is more likely to be walking faithfully with God. If anything, the socially awkward one has probably sacrificed more to be there. The way to tell the difference is to get to know them and look for the fruit of the Spirit.

Amen.

He also says:

What we call “socially appropriate” is often simply code for “socially comfortable for the majority.” And that means autistic people are often left out or asked to leave parts of ourselves at the door.

I loved this idea:

For the autistic Christian, stimming can even be a form of prayer; there are interesting connections with Orthodox prayer ropes, the Jesus Prayer or Roman Catholic rosaries.

And another word from Future John to Past John:

As with many things, you will have to do most of the extra work on this. It’s great when the world adapts to try to include you, but mostly you need to learn to adapt to the world. And yes, that sucks.

All the best,

Future John

I appreciate that John Allister doesn’t sugarcoat any of this. Some things just stink.

And yet…

As Pentecost was this past Sunday and as neurotypical and neurodivergent people might speak different languages:

Pentecost gives us a signpost that the communication difficulties between autistic and neurotypical can begin to be overcome by the Spirit in the present, as we grow in love for one another in the Church.

Strikingly, the gap is not bridged by the Parthians, Medes and Elamites learning the disciples’ language of Aramaic—it is bridged because the disciples were enabled to communicate in Parthian, Median and Elamite. In the same way, it shouldn’t be up to autistic people to learn how to communicate differently or to be less autistic—it’s the job of the Church, empowered by the Spirit, to communicate with autistic people in language they can understand.

Pentecost points forward to God’s wonderful action of drawing people to praise him in wonderful diversity from every tribe and language, and every people and nation (see Revelation 7.9). Yes, and from every neurotype too.

If you’re autistic…

Or not.

If you’re a believer in Jesus…

Or not.

If you’re in church leadership or regularly attending a Sunday-morning thing…

Or not.

This book can speak to you.

Are you human? It’s about humans.

Ha Ha Haiku

A funny haiku for you every week in every newsletter, whether it’s one of my own or one I curate for you. HA. Ha. Haiku.

Photo by Abigail Munday

Doctor Who: AuDHD?

This very well could have been in my Yeehawesome section, but I unilaterally decided that it needed its own space. I am, after all, the mistress of Beany Brain. [Takes a bow.]

Katie Mulgrew in The Guardian in March 2026 wrote a wonderful piece: “I was struggling to understand my autistic son — until we watched an episode of Doctor Who.”

Have you ever seen Doctor Who? Last visit to the UK I watched it on many Saturday nights with my father-in-law—we couldn’t talk anybody else into it, and they were losing out, in my opinion.

(Unfortunately there won’t be any new episodes released until Christmas 2026, not in time for me to see them before we’re back - Lord willing - in Japan and sans BBC iPlayer access. Come on, BBC! Give us a subscription option! Don’t block our Japanese IP address. Hmmmppphhhh.)

Anyway, Doctor Who’s a fantastical sci-fi adventure show, packed with time travel, aliens, humans, fun special effects, and good storylines.

Katie Mulgrew’s son is autistic and ADHD, and when he was 8 she introduced him to Doctor Who in the David Tennant era. Her son immediately connected with the Doc, saying that he fizzed too!

She writes:

Watching Tennant’s Doctor was like watching an adult version of my son: the infectious joy, the righteous anger, veering so suddenly from one emotion to the other. A fierceness to it all – a fizz. I don’t think David Tennant purposely played the Doctor as AuDHD, or that Russell T Davies wrote him that way. But when we watched those episodes together, that’s what we saw. That’s who we saw. And my son saw himself.

He found comfort in the structure of it. Every episode there’d be a new problem and the Doctor would use his fizzy brain to solve it. It helped him understand that stories need conflict, and then resolution. That real life has conflict and resolution, too. It helped me find parallels between what happened in the episodes and what was happening in his life.

And this part made me cry in recognition:

One Friday afternoon, my son exploded about something I can’t even remember now. It was the week at school pouring out of him in a screaming, kicking tangle of limbs. In the remorse that followed, I said something I’d said many times before: “Your feelings and emotions are just so big for such a little person.”

But then I had a sudden realisation, from all the Doctor Who we’d been watching. I squeezed his hands in mine. “You’re like a Tardis. You’re just so much bigger on the inside than you are on the outside, my love.”

He nodded back. “I am like a Tardis.”

I am like a Tardis.

Photo by Abigail Munday

Yeehawesome!

Yeehawesome! is a happy-brain roundup in each issue of Beany Brain. What’s happening that’s good in brain land? What’s bringing me joy?

  1. See that tool above? It’s a “party piece” and it came in a set to my in-laws from my husband’s grandmother. They work wonderfully, better than sporks, because the inside rounded part can also function as a knife.

  2. MayWe Events and the Belfast Community Action Plan plan stage shows with adults with additional needs, and so many of these adults have gained confidence through this program.

  3. Having a dishwasher in the house! I never realize just how much time we spend washing dishes in our house in Japan until we’re in a house with a dishwasher! It’s an epiphany. A dishany?

Quote of the Week

The poor and middle pay taxes, the rich pay accountants, the very rich pay lawyers—and the ultra rich pay politicians.

George Monbiot as quoted in The Guardian

Beany Brownie Points and Extra Bonus Funniness

Wonderful Wednesday

Wonderful Wednesday was a day once a year in college when they would suddenly and surprisingly call off all classes and we’d play all day. The cafeteria provided special fun food and we’d do stuff outside like slip ‘n slides and jello wrestling in sumo suits. This segment of Beany Brain is dedicated to that memory of silliness and fun—no words, just a photo from the week that I’ve taken or found that reminds me to let the joy in. Since Beany Brain is published on Wednesday every week (at least, Wednesday in Japan), I hope you enjoy this Wonderful Wednesday.

@sharonsaysso (Sharon McMahon)

Today’s Beany-full Summary:

  • I recommend reading the new book, Faith, Hope and Autism: Learning To Love Neurodiversity by John Allister.

  • Sometimes neurodivergent people see themselves in certain characters, and an AuDHD boy saw himself in Doctor Who.

  • Go forth in Beany joy. What will help you feel yeehawesome this week?

Thank you for reading this installment of Beany Brain! You’re very welcome to hop on by any old time.

If you’re enjoying Beany Brain, please share with a friend or seventeen at www.beanybrain.com. Cheers big time!