A Review of 'Blessed Minds' By Sarah Griffith Lund
Lund, Sarah Griffith. Blessed Minds: Breaking the Silence About Neurodiversity. Chalice Press, 2025. ISBN: 978-0827203440.
“Neurodiversity is not a problem for the church to make disappear. Neurodiversity is God showing up, in human form, inviting us into deeper ways of loving one another” (page 130).
With these words, Sarah Griffith Lund captures the heart of Blessed Minds: Breaking the Silence About Neurodiversity, a book that is both a theological reflection and a pastoral call to action. As a United Church of Christ pastor myself, and as a member of a “neurofamily”—a term Lund defines as “a family in which one or more members is/are neurodivergent” (page 136)—I found this book to be not only timely but also deeply necessary.
Lund writes with both conviction and compassion, offering a vision of the church that is genuinely inclusive of neurodivergent people—not merely accommodating them, but recognizing their presence as a means of encountering God. This is a book that does not shy away from the struggles that neurodivergent individuals and their families face, but it refuses to frame neurodiversity as a problem to be solved. Instead, Lund urges the church to see neurodivergence as a gift that can transform communities of faith for the better.
One of the great strengths of Blessed Minds is its accessibility. While it does not attempt to offer an academic treatise, it is clear that Lund has engaged with serious theological questions. Her theological vision is, implicitly, quite deep. She touches on themes that will resonate with pastors and lay leaders alike: the doctrine of the imago Dei, the nature of community, and the call to radical hospitality. She also explores the ways that neurodivergence challenges traditional assumptions about liturgy, participation, and what it means to be “fully present” in worship. Rather than seeing sensory sensitivities, differences in communication, or variations in attention as obstacles to worship, she invites us to consider how expanding our liturgical imagination can enrich the entire church.
Lund’s approach is pastoral in the best sense of the word—deeply personal and invitational, yet with a prophetic edge. She is unafraid to challenge the ways that churches, even those with good intentions, have often excluded neurodivergent individuals and their families. But she does so in a way that feels like an open hand rather than a clenched fist. She invites, rather than condemns, and that is part of what makes this book such a powerful resource for congregations looking to become truly inclusive.
In addition to her own experiences and insights, Lund also draws on the work of Princeton Seminary’s God’s Brainforest, an online learning module designed to center and celebrate neurodiversity in youth ministry. This project, spearheaded by (my friends) Dr. Erin Raffety and Dr. Michael Paul Cartledge adds another layer of richness to Lund’s work. God’s Brainforest is an exciting and necessary initiative, and it’s encouraging to see Lund incorporate its insights into her broader theological reflection.
What makes Blessed Minds especially valuable is its potential to start conversations. It is not a book that provides all the answers, nor does it attempt to do so. Instead, it opens up space for dialogue—space for neurodivergent individuals and their families to share their stories, for church leaders to reflect on their own practices, and for communities to dream together about what a more inclusive and welcoming church might look like. In this sense, its relative lightness in academic rigor is not a weakness but a strength. By making the book so accessible, Lund ensures that it can be read and discussed by a wide range of people, from seminary-trained clergy to lay leaders and church members who may be encountering these ideas for the first time.
In a time when the values of diversity and inclusion are being actively challenged in many spheres of society, Blessed Minds serves as an important reminder that the church should be a countercultural witness to the full dignity of all people. Lund’s call is clear: churches must do more than merely make space for neurodivergent individuals; they must recognize neurodiversity as a vital part of the body of Christ. This is not just about hospitality—it’s about justice, about the very nature of what it means to be the church.
Ultimately, Blessed Minds is a hopeful book. It acknowledges the difficulties neurodivergent individuals and their families face, but it refuses to dwell in despair. Instead, it points to a future in which churches embrace neurodiversity not as an afterthought but as a central aspect of their identity. As Lund makes clear, the presence of neurodivergent individuals in our communities is not a challenge to overcome—it is an invitation to deeper love, greater creativity, and a fuller experience of the divine.
For pastors, lay leaders, and anyone invested in making the church a more welcoming and inclusive place, Blessed Minds is an essential read. It is a book that will inspire, challenge, and, most importantly, open the door to conversations that are long overdue. And in doing so, it will help the church become more fully what it is called to be: a community where all are truly welcomed, seen, and valued.