For any candidate, entering the Church’s discernment process requires profound vulnerability. You are asked to open up your history, your spiritual life, and your deepest insecurities to a Diocesan Director of Ordinands (DDO) or a Bishops’ Advisor. But for a neurodivergent candidate, this vulnerability carries a unique, exhausting weight.

For many with ADHD, autism, dyslexia, or dyspraxia, survival in neurotypical spaces has relied on “masking”—the subconscious hiding of neurodivergent traits to fit in. When a DDO asks a candidate to be open and honest, they are effectively asking them to drop a mask that has kept them safe for a lifetime.

As I have explored in my Discern with Dyslexia piece, Things I Wish My DDO Knew About My Neurodivergence, candidates may spend weeks or months talking to their DDO, diving into their history, and trying to decode the process before they feel safe enough to truly let their mask down.

If we want a discernment system that works—one that accurately assesses a candidate’s genuine calling rather than their ability to perform neurotypical behaviours—assessors must actively normalise the conversation. Here are some guiding principles for vocations teams on how to build that essential trust.

Recognise the Timeline of Trust / The Slow Unmasking

Do not assume that a candidate is being fully themselves in the first, second, or even third meeting.

Masking is the exhausting, often subconscious process of suppressing natural neurodivergent behaviours to appear neurotypical and meet societal expectations. In a discernment meeting, a DDO might see a candidate maintaining intense, forced eye contact because they have been taught that looking away is perceived as evasive, even though it causes them physical discomfort. You might hear them deliver heavily rehearsed, slightly rigid answers to pastoral questions, or notice them sitting unnaturally still to suppress the urge to fidget or stim, which often leads to a visible, physical crash in their energy by the end of your conversation.

• The Exhaustion of Scrutiny: Early conversations are often spent trying to figure out what the DDO “wants” to hear. The candidate is scanning for signs that their neurodivergence will be viewed as a liability.

• Patience is Key: It takes time for an autistic or ADHD candidate to realise they will not be penalised for missing a social cue or losing a train of thought. Trust is built when a DDO consistently responds to these moments with grace, rather than treating them as red flags.

Explain the “Why” Behind the Questions

A common source of intense anxiety for neurodivergent candidates is the ambiguity of discernment questions. When asked to dive into their personal history, they often expend massive amounts of energy trying to understand why the question is being asked.

Literal processing is not a lack of imagination, but a neurological preference for clarity over implied meaning. If an assessor asks a broad, open-ended question such as, “Where do you see yourself fitting into the wider church?”, you might hear a candidate stumble, go silent, or offer a panicked, overly detailed list of practical parish roles. What you are seeing is not a lack of vision, but a brain rapidly trying to compute a dozen different interpretations of the word ‘fitting’, meaning you must provide a specific framework first to allow their actual theological depth to surface.

• Remove the Hidden Meaning: Autistic and ADHD brains often thrive on literal, clear communication. If a question feels like a trap or a psychological test, the mask stays firmly on.

• Contextualise Your Enquiries: Before asking a probing question about a candidate’s past or their relational style, explain your reasoning. For example: “I’m going to ask about how you handle conflict, because parish ministry involves a lot of differing opinions, and I want to understand what support you might need in those moments.” This removes the guesswork and lowers anxiety.

Model the Openness You Expect

Candidates are asked to be entirely laid bare, which creates a severe power imbalance. For a candidate to be vulnerable, the assessor must be willing to share in that vulnerability.

The power dynamic in discernment is heavily skewed, as the assessor holds the keys to the candidate’s future vocation. You might notice a candidate constantly seeking reassurance, frequently apologising for asking clarifying questions, or immediately agreeing with your theological perspectives rather than offering their own. This deference is often a learned survival mechanism from past encounters with church authority where their neurodivergence was misunderstood, and true vulnerability will only emerge when you actively dismantle that hierarchy by admitting your own uncertainties or administrative frustrations during the conversation.

• Reciprocal Humanity: Assessors and Bishops’ Advisors must be as open as they are asking the candidate to be. You do not need to overshare personal trauma, but you must model transparency. Acknowledge the flaws in the national process, admit when a form is overly complicated, and share your own moments of relying on God’s grace in ministry.

• A Grace-Based Dynamic: Lynn at Included by Grace consistently highlights that we are all “included by grace, and it is our responsibility to ensure that all members of our community feel included and valued”. When an assessor operates from this posture of grace rather than rigid evaluation, the power dynamic shifts from an interrogation to a shared journey.

Frame Neurodivergence as Theological Shaping, Not a Deficit

The turning point in any successful DDO-candidate relationship is the moment neurodivergence transitions from being an “issue to manage” to a “lens of theology.”

Reframing neurodivergence requires looking past surface-level social or administrative friction to see the underlying charism. Instead of simply seeing a candidate who gets easily distracted by multiple ideas, you might hear someone passionately connecting disparate theological concepts that a neurotypical mind would rarely link together. You might see an autistic candidate who struggles with post-service small talk, yet sits in profound, comfortable silence with a grieving parishioner for hours, demonstrating a deep, grounded pastoral presence that relies on authenticity rather than social convention.

• Stop Mitigating, Start Exploring: Do not treat a candidate’s neurodivergence as a deficit that needs to be accommodated or mitigated. Instead, ask them how it shapes their understanding of God.

• Discovering Spiritual Gifts: How does an ADHD candidate’s rapid processing shape their pioneering ministry? How does an autistic candidate’s deep sense of justice shape their preaching? As explored extensively by John at Neurodiverse Church—such as in his article What About Non-Verbal Autism?, which highlights how autistic individuals often model the profound “fruit of the Spirit”—neurodivergent traits are deeply connected to unique spiritual gifts. When a DDO asks about these traits with genuine curiosity and theological respect, the mask finally comes off.

Normalising the conversation is not about lowering the bar for discernment; it is about clearing the systemic fog so that the true vocation can be seen. When DDOs commit to clarity, patience, and reciprocal vulnerability, they create a space where neurodivergent leaders can finally say, “This is how God made me, and this is how I am called to serve.”