The biblical prophets were strange people. They saw visions others couldn't see, heard voices others couldn't hear, and fixated on divine messages with an intensity that disrupted normal social functioning. They often lived on society's margins, spoke in unusual ways, and struggled to make themselves understood.
Sound familiar?
As an autistic Christian, I've often wondered whether some of the prophets might have been neurodivergent. I'm not suggesting their prophetic calling was merely psychological—I believe God genuinely spoke through them. But I do wonder whether God might have specifically chosen neurodivergent individuals for prophetic ministry, just as He chose shepherds, fishermen, and tax collectors for other purposes.
Ezekiel: The Pattern-Seer
Consider Ezekiel. His visions are elaborate, systematic, and intensely detailed. He sees wheels within wheels, creatures with four faces, and architectural plans for a temple described with engineering precision. His symbolic actions—lying on his side for 390 days, shaving his head and dividing the hair into portions, digging through walls—suggest someone for whom literal enactment of metaphorical truths was necessary.
Many of Ezekiel's behaviors would today be recognized as stimming or autistic rigidity. His detailed focus on temple measurements, his systematic symbolic actions, his apparent difficulty with abstract communication requiring concrete demonstrations—these align remarkably well with autistic traits.
Did God choose Ezekiel precisely because his mind worked this way? Perhaps the intricate visions God wanted to communicate required someone whose brain excelled at systematic, detailed processing.
Jeremiah: The Reluctant Prophet
Jeremiah's social difficulties are striking. He describes himself as unable to speak, struggles with social rejection, and experiences profound isolation. His writings reveal intense emotional sensitivity and a tendency toward what we might today call rejection sensitive dysphoria.
"I have become a laughingstock all day long; everyone mocks me," he writes. The social feedback loop that reinforced prophetic ministry for some prophets seemed to work differently for Jeremiah. He continued his calling despite, not because of, social response.
His special interest—Israel's covenant unfaithfulness—dominated his thinking to a degree that disrupted normal social functioning. He couldn't maintain typical relationships, couldn't participate in normal community life, because his mind was wholly absorbed by his prophetic message.
Elijah: Sensory Sensitivities
Elijah's story includes striking details about sensory experience. After his confrontation with the prophets of Baal, he doesn't stay to enjoy his victory. Instead, he flees to a cave, overwhelmed and seeking solitude.
God's revelation to Elijah is telling: not in the earthquake, not in the fire, but in "a still small voice"—or as some translations render it, "the sound of sheer silence." This suggests someone whose sensory system worked differently, who could perceive subtle signals others missed while being overwhelmed by strong stimuli.
Elijah's need for solitude, his difficulty with social expectations, his tendency toward burnout after intense confrontations—all resonate with autistic experiences of social and sensory processing.
John the Baptist: Special Interest as Calling
John the Baptist lived in the wilderness, wore unusual clothes, ate an unconventional diet, and had one overwhelming focus: preparing the way for the Messiah. His social communication was blunt to the point of rudeness: "You brood of vipers!" isn't exactly subtle diplomacy.
His special interest became his calling. The intense, focused attention that characterizes autistic special interests was, for John, directed toward the coming Messiah. Where others might have had more balanced interests and concerns, John had one message, delivered with unwavering intensity.
The Apologetic Dimension
Why does this matter apologetically? Because it suggests that God doesn't just tolerate neurodivergence—He actively uses it. If the prophets were neurodivergent, then their unique neurological makeup wasn't a barrier to divine calling but potentially a qualification for it.
This challenges the notion that there's one "normal" way to hear from God or serve Him. The diversity of prophetic personalities and experiences in Scripture suggests that God speaks to and through human beings as they are, neurological differences included.
Cautions and Nuances
I need to be careful here. I'm not diagnosing ancient people with modern categories—that would be anachronistic. Nor am I suggesting that every neurodivergent person is a prophet, or that all unusual behavior is divine inspiration.
Mental illness and spiritual gifts can coexist but aren't the same thing. Genuine prophetic calling and neurological difference are separate categories that can overlap. God can work through our neurology without our neurology being the source of the divine message.
Personal Resonance
As an autistic person, recognizing potentially neurodivergent traits in the prophets is deeply encouraging. It suggests that my different way of processing information, my intense focus on particular topics, my social difficulties—these aren't disqualifications from serving God. They might even be part of how God made me for specific purposes.
When I struggle with social situations that others navigate easily, when I fixate on theological questions with an intensity others find excessive, when I need solitude to recover from sensory overload—I can look to the prophets and see that God has always used people whose minds work differently.
Theological Implications
This also speaks to the doctrine of divine accommodation. God doesn't just communicate to humanity in general; He communicates to specific human beings with particular neurological configurations. The form of prophetic revelation varied from prophet to prophet, perhaps partly because their minds worked differently.
Ezekiel got detailed systematic visions because his mind could process them. Jeremiah got emotional lamentations because his nervous system experienced things intensely. Elijah encountered God in subtle sensory perception because that's how his sensory system was calibrated.
God meets us where we are, as we are—neurology included.
Conclusion
Were the biblical prophets neurodivergent? I can't prove it definitively. But the textual evidence is suggestive, and the theological implications are profound.
If the prophets were neurodivergent, it means God has always worked through diverse neurologies. It means the kingdom of God has always had room for minds that work differently. It means neurodivergence isn't a modern category we're imposing on God's plan, but part of human diversity that God has always valued and used.
And that, for this autistic apologist, is very good news indeed.