Rev. Susan Gregg-Schroeder
Mental Health Ministries' current e-spotlight focuses on taking time to slow down to just "be."
"Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy"
(Exodus 20:8, ESV).
Book - Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal and Delight in Our Busy Lives
Millennia ago, the tradition of Sabbath created an oasis of sacred time within a life of unceasing labor. Now, in a book that can heal our harried lives, Wayne Muller, shows us how to create a special time of rest, delight, and renewal--a refuge for our souls.
We need not even schedule an entire day each week. Sabbath time can be a Sabbath afternoon, a Sabbath hour, a Sabbath walk. With wonderful stories, poems, and suggestions for practice, Muller teaches us how we can use this time of sacred rest to refresh our bodies and minds, restore our creativity, and regain our birthright of inner happiness. Available on Amazon.
Clergy Self-Care
Article: Mental Health: Clergy Job Often Equals Stress
Close to 50 percent of United Methodist clergy who answered a survey conducted by the United Methodist Board of Pension and Health Benefits said their jobs stressed them out. While this article is based on a United Methodist survey, the findings are helpful for clergy from all faith traditions. In addition to stress and depression, the survey found United Methodist clergy have a higher percentage of physical conditions including obesity (40 percent), high cholesterol (51 percent), borderline high blood pressure (prehypertension) (11 percent), asthma (17 percent) and pre-diabetes (9 percent). "If you look at our disability claims for clergy, you see that mental health ends up being a much higher reason (for resigning) than in an average workplace setting," Kelly Wittich said. "These are mental health issues extreme enough to keep people from continuing." "I don't think a lot of the folks in the pews realize or think of their clergyperson as a human who has the same vulnerabilities as all of us."
Some tips for congregations include:
Make sure your clergyperson is taking time off for Sabbath and vacation. Don't schedule meetings every night of the week. Give pastors time to spend with their families.
Welcome new pastors and their families. Be the emotional support for them instead of just expecting it from them.
Handle conflicts in a loving, Christian manner.
Mike DuBose
Almost 50 percent of United Methodist clergy who answered a survey conducted by the United Methodist Board of Pension and Health Benefits said their jobs stressed them out.Mental health: Clergy job often equals stress
A UMNS Report By Kathy L. Gilbert
NASHVILLE, Tenn.
Just as Jesus healed people struggling with mental, emotional and physical ailments, United Methodists reach out to their sisters and brothers who seek healing. In this series, United Methodist News Service shares stories of individuals and congregations tackling the challenges of mental health through a variety of ministries.Answering God's call shouldn't be bad for your health.
But for about half of all ordained United Methodist clergy, it is.
Close to 50 percent of United Methodist clergy who answered a survey conducted by the United Methodist Board of Pension and Health Benefits said their jobs stressed them out.
Five percent suffer from depression, 26 percent report at least some functional difficulty from depressive symptoms and 47 percent experienced hostility in their congregations.
To show some perspective, for matched U.S. adults used as a benchmark, only three percent suffer from depression and 12 percent report difficulty working, taking care of things or getting along with others.
The survey also found United Methodist clergy have a higher percentage of physical conditions including obesity (40 percent), high cholesterol (51 percent), borderline high blood pressure (prehypertension) (11 percent), asthma (17 percent) and pre-diabetes (9 percent).
Emotional and mental health issues exacerbate physical conditions, said Kelly Wittich, manager of health and wellness at the Center for Health, United Methodist Board of Pension and Health Benefits.
"If you look at our disability claims for clergy, you see that mental health ends up being a much higher reason (for resigning) than in an average workplace setting," she said. "These are mental health issues extreme enough to keep people from continuing."
It's just the job
Some of the stress risks are systemic, Wittich said. A report by the Church System Task Force in 2011 identified 13 key factors that differentiate between healthy and unhealthy individuals.
Stressors that seem to come with the job include trouble maintaining a healthy work/life balance, frequent appointment changes and relocations and existential burdens of ministry - feeling obligated to carry the weight of others' emotional and spiritual burdens or overwhelming needs.
A built-in stressor is The United Methodist Church's itinerant system, which moves pastors from church to church in their conferences. "Think of how stressful it is when you have to move ... to leave a support network, routines and have to start from scratch," Wittich said.
Other stressors range from striving to live a healthy lifestyle while surrounded by high-caloric, fat-saturated potluck dinners to problems with living authentically and failing to live according to deeply held personal values and beliefs.
Compassion fatigue
"The very acts that get clergy rewarded in their ministry can also be the very things that wreak havoc on their family, personal, physical and spiritual lives," said the Rev. Sheri S. Ferguson, executive director of the North Alabama Annual (regional) United Methodist Pastoral Care and Counseling Center.
"The very acts that get clergy rewarded in their ministry can also be the very things that wreak havoc on their family, personal, physical and spiritual lives." (The Rev. Sheri S. Ferguson)
Ferguson cites one study of psychologists that points to four factors that contribute to burnout: being young, having low income, engaging in little personal psychotherapy and feeling overly committed to clients.
"These factors certainly apply to clergy," she said.
Ferguson said clergy could do specific things to prevent compassion burnout and mental health problems.
"Clergy need support/accountability systems where they can talk about the demands of ministry in a confidential environment," she said.
Other healthy tips include having hobbies, nurturing humor and working to keep a balance between work and family. She also suggests clergy should participate in worship outside of the place where they are the leader.
Game changers
The Church Systems Task Force report identified four areas that, if changed, would have a positive impact on clergy health:
- Adjustments to the itinerancy and the appointment systems
- Emphasis on a good match between the clergyperson and the congregation; acceptance and use of clergy gifts and graces
- Spiritual support for the clergyperson from someone other than the district superintendent
- Revisions to the district superintendent role to better support clergy
"I don't think a lot of the folks in the pews realize or think of their clergyperson as a human who has the same vulnerabilities as all of us," Wittich said.
"I don't think a lot of the folks in the pews realize or think of their clergyperson as a human who has the same vulnerabilities as all of us." (Kelly Wittich)
Some tips for congregationsinclude:
- Make sure your clergyperson is taking time off for Sabbath and vacation. Don't schedule meetings every night of the week. Give pastors time to spend with their families.
- Welcome new pastors and their families. Be the emotional support for them instead of just expecting it from them.
- Handle conflicts in a loving, Christian manner.
"Can you imagine if every leader of the church were emotionally thriving, what an impact that would have on the mission of the church?"
This article was first published on July 12, 2013.
*Gilbert is a multimedia reporter for the young adult content team at United Methodist Communications, Nashville, Tenn.
News media contact: Kathy L. Gilbert, Nashville, Tenn., (615) 742-5470 or newsdesk@umcom.org.
Category: Top News, Archives, Regional News, North America
Tags: News, Illinois, Stress, Feature, Healing Wholeness, Church Ministry, Pensionsretirement, Personal Family, Clergy Health, Health Wholeness
Read the article here.
I was serving as associate pastor to a small church in southern Wisconsin, just a year out of seminary, and I couldn't get out of bed. I slept all the time. I couldn't eat. I couldn't see any future ahead of me. I was filled with a despair I couldn’t put into words. My primary care doctor diagnosed me with anxiety-related depression. It was 2011.
There was no way I could tell anyone about this diagnosis. Forget talking about it in regular conversation — I'm a pastor, for God’s sakes, a leader in the Christian church. I couldn’t be dealing with this. I needed to man up, I told myself — I’d get tough, and pull myself out of this nightmare.
“Demons” have never been part of my religious vocabulary. Growing up in a fundamentalist Christian community, spending my teens as an agnostic, then becoming a Lutheran pastor, at every turn, my faith journey made me wary of terms like that. I mean, it wasn’t like I was living in a scene from The Exorcist, right?
But ever since I began walking with depression, that term has taken on new meaning. Depression lies to me. It is relentless. It tells me I will always feel this way, that I’m not deserving of help, that I am a burden, a waste — that my life is thoroughly hopeless. The demon of depression tells me that this is my fault. It tells me that I am utterly alone.
Mark’s gospel, in particular, depicts numerous instances in which a demon is present. The possessed person is often blamed for this, but Jesus never uses that logic himself. He doesn’t condemn a possessed person for their reality, and he doesn’t tell them to just get over it. Jesus does what Jesus does: He heals them.
The more time I spend with these stories, the more I identify with the demon-possessed people — the Gerasene demoniac (5:1-20); the masses outside Simon’s house (1:32-34); the boy with the unclean spirit (9:14-27). As a biblical storyteller — someone who learns biblical stories by heart and tells them to others — these intense moments have become an inextricable part of me.
So, yes, even in our 21st-century Christianity, when we say that God’s story is our story, this has to include the demon-possessed.
I left Wisconsin a year after my diagnosis and found myself in Baltimore, starting a new Christian community. I also started a video company that expands my call as a pastor, telling the stories of God and God’s people.
I'm now in a city I love, surrounded by a network of friends, and doing work that fulfills me. But the demon remains. It is nothing if not persistent.
People, even the most well-meaning among them, will often use the Bible to try to help. They don’t usually head to Mark’s gospel, though. They’ll throw Philippians my way, referencing things like “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (4:13); or they share Paul’s letter to the Romans, encouraging me to “increase” my faith so that I will “get better” (4:20-21); they send me “inspirational” quotations from a Google image search.
The stigma around mental illness only makes the silence and shame worse. Unlike a broken leg, I don’t have a tried-and-true pathway to healing and wholeness. The medication for our brains is not fully understood, even by professionals. It’s a lot of guesswork. We simply don’t know. That unknowing is often paralyzing and downright scary.
One of the most insidious parts of mental illness is the feeling that no one else could possibly understand what you are going through. The isolation is immense and inescapable. Your brain feeds into this, and the demon wants nothing more than for you to suffer in silence. This is an acute distress for those in the church, where our identities are usually rooted in commandments around community. Mark’s gospel is again instructive, as we see Jesus in Gethsemane, “distressed and agitated,” telling the disciples that he was “deeply grieved, even to death” (14:33-34).
What a searing image. If Jesus suffered with all humanity during the Passion narrative, wouldn’t that include mentally as well? As Christians, we are really good at proclaiming the full divinity of Jesus, but when it comes to his full humanity, we often skirt around the issue. But in a country where 16 million adults suffer from depression each year, and where many politicians recently stood in the White House Rose Garden to celebrate the passage of a bill that would classify mental illness as a preexisting condition and allow states to opt out of covering it at all, we desperately need a savior who suffers with us.
My depression is frustratingly, deeply, a part of me. My brain chemistry is wired in such a way that I struggle, through no fault of my own. But I do not struggle alone. As a Christian leader, this is my fervent hope and prayer.
The Rev. Jason Chesnut, ordained in the ELCA, created and developed The Slate Project, an innovative Christian worshiping community that gathers both online and face-to-face in Baltimore City.
Read the article here.
Rev. Susan Gregg-Schroeder offers a bold statement about living with chronic depression and discovering gifts of God in the midst of that depression. Taking readers on her own personal journey into depression, Gregg-Schroeder relates the wisdom of experience and moves beyond her experience to offer universal truths concerning depression and spirituality.
Note: This item is only available on Amazon from third-party sellers. It can also be purchased from the Mental Health Ministries website for $10.
"Preaching on Mental Health" is an article by Rev. Shane Moore. After encouragement from others he preached a four-week sermon series entitled "Faithfully Mindful." Moore says, "Each week we looked at issues surrounding mental health and essential self-care from a scriptural perspective. Then after the sermon, we had a "Mental Health Moment" that provided the more practical aspects of mental health and included ways to care for our own mental health." This article includes scripture and suggestions for preaching a sermon addressing mental health.
Friends and family often do not know what to say and can give advice that can be hurtful instead of helpful. The authors of this article asked people who live with mental illnesses to tell share what makes a good friend.
We asked people in our community who live with mental illnesses to tell us what makes a good friend. If you’re a friend of someone who has a mental illness, their answer might provide some insight.
Here’s what they told us:
1. “Give me a hug and let me vent. Sometimes that’s the best thing someone can do.” (Abigayle Petty)
2. “Just treat me the way you did before I became ill.” (Denise Cochrane)
3. “Don’t tell me to put my big girl panties, but do tell me you support me and love me anyway.” (Andrea Heer)
4. “Just calling to ask how I’m doing means a great deal.” (Winona O’Reilly)
5. “Don’t confuse my humor, joy, wit or intelligence as symptoms of my illness.” (Rebecca Chamaa)
![]()
RESOURCES FROM R U OK?
7. “Ask me what I need, and give time when the answer is ‘I don’t know.’” (Beth Ann Morhardt)
8. “Help destigmatize. Be mindful of your language choices, privately and publicly.” (Sarah Clark)
9. “Please be willing to try and ride the waves with me. Just meet me where I’m at… whether I’m up or down, don’t leave me.” (Miranda Tymoschuk)
10. “My husband is a prime example. He gives me space to have my small freak outs, but is always there when I cling to him. It’s all about what they need and want at the time. It makes a huge difference” (Marcus Wattson)
11. “The biggest support for me is to be validated. Let me know it’s OK to feel this way. I’ll be here for you and promise not to fix you, but to support you.” (Melissa Fryburger-Long)
12. “Come to my side to help. Social media is great, but good old fashioned face time is what I need. Pull me out of my cave and keep me moving!” (Michelle Balck)
13. “Don’t try to ‘fix’ me — that’s my job. But encouragement and moral support? That is what I need most.” (Selena Marie Wilson)
14. “I would say just be there. Listen. You don’t necessarily need to understand, but being open minded is always a plus. And comfort, give hugs, let me cry even if it sounds ridiculous. What I’m crying about isn’t ridiculous to me.” (Nikki Ronnenberg)
15. “I know that standing by watching someone suffer can be a lot to handle, but the best thing a friend can do is to keep being my friend and not let the mental illness come between us.” (Kimberly Edwards)
16. “Educate yourself. You don’t need to understand everything or even why it’s happening, but a little knowledge can go a long way when it comes to support. Don’t shut down when I talk about the dark parts; I already feel bad enough. And reassure me you’ll be there at the end.” (Paige Alyssa O’Connor)
17. “Understand that sometimes I can’t hang out, but not because I don’t want to. Accept that it’s in fact an illness and I’m not making an excuse.” (Shannon Trevino)
18. “My friends are great because nothing fazes them. When I return home from months in the hospital, they treat me like I’ve never been away.” (Jenny Bridger)
19. “Continue to be my friend, and be there for me. Recognize I might need more support, or space, or just someone to listen and be present with me, but that ultimately knowing you’re there and having your friendship is the best support. The difficult feelings will pass — remind me of that — but most of all be there, listen and remind me that our friendship will still be there after a difficult time.” (Lucy Ingram)
20. “Tell me I’m not a burden to you. Because I feel like I’m dragging you down with me when I pick up the phone and say I’m hurting, struggling or need some one to reach out to.” (MK Knight)
21. “I love when I can laugh with my friends. For a while I forget all about my depression and anxiety.” (MK Knight)
*Answers have been edited and shortened for brevity.
Find this story helpful?Share it with someone you care about.
Sarah Schuster is the mental health editor at The Mighty. She thinks every day should be a mental health day.
Read the article here.
A familiar scene plays out again and again in American public life in the 21st century. In the wake of the many mass shootings, commentators, pundits, and politicians all gather around to talk about the country's broken mental health system and suggest its connection to the violence. In the article, America's Long-Suffering Mental Health System, historian Zeb Larson traces how our response to mental illness has been shaped by a faith that such illness can be cured and a desire to deal with persons with a mental illness as cheaply as possible. This is an excellent overview of how mental illness has been viewed and treated over time and where we are today.
An article from Sojourners by Robyn Henderson-Espinoza states "Christianity has a bad habit of diminishing the body in favor of elevating the mind. For Plato and Descartes, two philosophers who have heavily influenced the Western church's thinking on spirit and flesh, the body was imagined as an inferior attachment to an idealized, spiritual mind. What this has created is a divide between body and soul - a focus on the care of the soul in our churches, with little attention given to how the health of mind, body, and soul are integrated. This has not only created bad religion, but has meant that Christians overlook the prevalence of mental illness in their churches. And this is affecting church communities in significant ways." "The bottom line," Rev. Onofrio said, "is that illnesses and disabilities don't fit in to mainstream theologies. Because of this, Christian ethics and moral imagination often diminish people who live with experiences of mental illness."
What this has created is a divide between body and soul — a focus on the care of the soul in our churches, with little attention given to how the health of mind, body, and soul are integrated. This has not only created bad religion, but has meant that Christians overlook the prevalence of mental illness in their churches. And this is affecting church communities in significant ways.
The belief that bodies don’t matter is often informed by theologies and ethics that do not integrate the body with the soul. This is a common experience in the church, said Dr. Kathryn Ott, Assistant Professor of Christian Social Ethics at Drew Theological School. In an email for this story, Ott wrote:
Churches don’t often name the reality of its members living with experiences of mental illness.
“ … mental health is often erroneously intertwined with weakness or lack of willpower,” said Pam Rocker, Affirming Coordinator for Hillhurst United Church in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. “Many [Christians] are not encouraged to seek counseling, but instead are encouraged to pray harder and have more faith.”
In an effort to begin the conversation within a church context, some Christians have found that their personal testimony is the best form of evidence. Singer-songwriter Jennifer Knapp shared her own story with Sojourners, of how discussions of mental illness in Christian circles were largely related to sin and suffering.
“In my own life-long management of depression, I have experienced the best and the worst of faith-based responses to my mental health,” she said. “At its worst, I have experienced utter rejection from the church. Other times, I’ve been counseled to absorb my sufferings as a punishment for my sins and a call to repentance. At its best, I’ve been fully embraced as I have come and have experienced healing, restorative empathy in a spiritually knowledgeable community.”
Many churches don’t have a robust theology that accounts for those who live with experiences of mental illness. Rev. Alba Onofrio, spiritual strategist at LGBTQ justice oriented Soulforce, said that salvation-focused strains of Christianity — like evangelicalism, which emphasizes “tests of faith” on the way to being "born again" into a sinless life — don't leave much room for “a good answer for why good, believing Christians still suffer so much from illness.”
“Some say it’s a test, being put through the fire; some … remind us that ‘God never gives us more than we can handle.’ Both of these, quite frankly, are crap,” Onofrio said. “I don't believe God gives us mental illness or cancer or any other suffering as a test of our faith or a punishment for the lack thereof. And I know from the incredibly high statistics of suicide among certain marginalized communities that some times we are absolutely faced with more than we have tools to handle."
The bottom line, Onofrio said, is that illnesses and disabilities don’t fit in to mainstream theologies. Because of this, Christian ethics and moral imagination often diminish people who live with experiences of mental illness.
Beyond individual care for those in the pews, however, is the question of systemic policies that prevent health and healing. And here, too, Christian narratives matter in the public square.
“Even when we are brave enough to name evil, we tend to focus on individual actions or people as the culprit, not systems of injustice, not empire, not Christian hegemony,” Onofrio said.
From policymakers writing bills that gut expansive coverage for mental health to the ongoing privatization of insurance companies, there are already many barriers to access for care. One-in-five adults in the U.S. experiencing mental illness in a given year means this issue lives in the church, and it’s important to recognize how theological and ethical narratives shape the ways in which we create or don’t create access for mental health care for millions of people.
Ott points out that social structures like poverty, racism, sexism, and violence can enhance or diminish health, just as can biological or genetic factors.
“Both of these aspects constrain ‘choice,’ as Christians theologically and ethically understand moral decisions. They also suggest that the response to mental health issues should be equally diversified in terms of advocating for social justice, individual health care access, communal support, research and education,” Ott said “Churches need to make the shift away from stigmatizing mental health as a moral failing or result of personal sin and instead promote theologies and provide resources that support and sustain those with mental health issues and their families.”
Today, our health care system — like the church — is rooted in a culture of whiteness, one that perpetuates a logic of dominance. While completing doctoral work in Colorado, I noticed that Kaiser mental health facilities were located primarily in affluent communities. This creates one kind of barrier to access — for many people of color, even if we can physically get to a clinic, we do not know how to navigate the system, which is another barrier. Oftentimes, we fail, which means our mental illness goes undiagnosed and, worst, untreated.
In 2009, I was diagnosed with a mental illness. As a non-binary trans person of color, my Latinx heritage and family of origin did not school me in ways to access health care. But I was then-partnered with a cis white woman who worked in health care and knew how to navigate the hospital, so I received access to the best health care in Chicago. I was connected with one of the best psychiatrists in Chicago, who was not queerphobic or transphobic, and was able to change medicines easily. And because my cis white partner knew that the integration of head, heart, and body was important, we later joined a support group in Chicago with the Depression & Bipolar Support Alliance.
I was dependent on my white cis partner to not only help me but advocate for me, and my treatment was all due to my cis white partner knowing how to navigate the health care system. Whiteness enabled me to have access to mental health care. And I was lucky.
When white ethics infuse Christian theology, Christians are less compelled to shift the moral discourse around access to care or to advocate for something different. But there are ways ahead, and Christian voices like Pam Rocker's are leading the way.
“Important to us all is the work of the care of the whole self, which can be called ‘intelligent flesh,’” Rocker, from Hillhurst United Church of Canada, said. “ … ever so slowly, more people are speaking up in their faith communities about who they are, and how mental health issues affect them and their loved ones. Many faith leaders are being open about their own journeys of mental health, and this makes a huge difference in us knowing that we are not alone and that we are worthy of getting the support we deserve, without the judgment and stigma.”
If one of our greatest social sins is the lack of access to mental health care, it is a moral imperative begin a discourse around mental health in our faith communities so that we are not silencing those who live with experiences of mental illnesses.
Robyn Henderson-Espinoza, Ph.D, is Director of Public Theology Initiatives at Faith Matters Network in Nashville, Tenn., and Visiting Scholar, Vanderbilt University Divinity School. Follow them on Twitter at @irobyn.
Christianity has a bad habit of diminishing the body in favor of elevating the mind. For Plato and Descartes, two philosophers who have heavily influenced the Western church’s thinking on spirit and flesh, the body was imagined as an inferior attachment to an idealized, spiritual mind.
What this has created is a divide between body and soul — a focus on the care of the soul in our churches, with little attention given to how the health of mind, body, and soul are integrated. This has not only created bad religion, but has meant that Christians overlook the prevalence of mental illness in their churches. And this is affecting church communities in significant ways.
The belief that bodies don’t matter is often informed by theologies and ethics that do not integrate the body with the soul. This is a common experience in the church, said Dr. Kathryn Ott, Assistant Professor of Christian Social Ethics at Drew Theological School. In an email for this story, Ott wrote:
Churches don’t often name the reality of its members living with experiences of mental illness.
“ … mental health is often erroneously intertwined with weakness or lack of willpower,” said Pam Rocker, Affirming Coordinator for Hillhurst United Church in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. “Many [Christians] are not encouraged to seek counseling, but instead are encouraged to pray harder and have more faith.”
In an effort to begin the conversation within a church context, some Christians have found that their personal testimony is the best form of evidence. Singer-songwriter Jennifer Knapp shared her own story with Sojourners, of how discussions of mental illness in Christian circles were largely related to sin and suffering.
“In my own life-long management of depression, I have experienced the best and the worst of faith-based responses to my mental health,” she said. “At its worst, I have experienced utter rejection from the church. Other times, I’ve been counseled to absorb my sufferings as a punishment for my sins and a call to repentance. At its best, I’ve been fully embraced as I have come and have experienced healing, restorative empathy in a spiritually knowledgeable community.”
Many churches don’t have a robust theology that accounts for those who live with experiences of mental illness. Rev. Alba Onofrio, spiritual strategist at LGBTQ justice oriented Soulforce, said that salvation-focused strains of Christianity — like evangelicalism, which emphasizes “tests of faith” on the way to being "born again" into a sinless life — don't leave much room for “a good answer for why good, believing Christians still suffer so much from illness.”
“Some say it’s a test, being put through the fire; some … remind us that ‘God never gives us more than we can handle.’ Both of these, quite frankly, are crap,” Onofrio said. “I don't believe God gives us mental illness or cancer or any other suffering as a test of our faith or a punishment for the lack thereof. And I know from the incredibly high statistics of suicide among certain marginalized communities that some times we are absolutely faced with more than we have tools to handle."
The bottom line, Onofrio said, is that illnesses and disabilities don’t fit in to mainstream theologies. Because of this, Christian ethics and moral imagination often diminish people who live with experiences of mental illness.
Beyond individual care for those in the pews, however, is the question of systemic policies that prevent health and healing. And here, too, Christian narratives matter in the public square.
“Even when we are brave enough to name evil, we tend to focus on individual actions or people as the culprit, not systems of injustice, not empire, not Christian hegemony,” Onofrio said.
From policymakers writing bills that gut expansive coverage for mental health to the ongoing privatization of insurance companies, there are already many barriers to access for care. One-in-five adults in the U.S. experiencing mental illness in a given year means this issue lives in the church, and it’s important to recognize how theological and ethical narratives shape the ways in which we create or don’t create access for mental health care for millions of people.
Ott points out that social structures like poverty, racism, sexism, and violence can enhance or diminish health, just as can biological or genetic factors.
“Both of these aspects constrain ‘choice,’ as Christians theologically and ethically understand moral decisions. They also suggest that the response to mental health issues should be equally diversified in terms of advocating for social justice, individual health care access, communal support, research and education,” Ott said “Churches need to make the shift away from stigmatizing mental health as a moral failing or result of personal sin and instead promote theologies and provide resources that support and sustain those with mental health issues and their families.”
Today, our health care system — like the church — is rooted in a culture of whiteness, one that perpetuates a logic of dominance. While completing doctoral work in Colorado, I noticed that Kaiser mental health facilities were located primarily in affluent communities. This creates one kind of barrier to access — for many people of color, even if we can physically get to a clinic, we do not know how to navigate the system, which is another barrier. Oftentimes, we fail, which means our mental illness goes undiagnosed and, worst, untreated.
In 2009, I was diagnosed with a mental illness. As a non-binary trans person of color, my Latinx heritage and family of origin did not school me in ways to access health care. But I was then-partnered with a cis white woman who worked in health care and knew how to navigate the hospital, so I received access to the best health care in Chicago. I was connected with one of the best psychiatrists in Chicago, who was not queerphobic or transphobic, and was able to change medicines easily. And because my cis white partner knew that the integration of head, heart, and body was important, we later joined a support group in Chicago with the Depression & Bipolar Support Alliance.
I was dependent on my white cis partner to not only help me but advocate for me, and my treatment was all due to my cis white partner knowing how to navigate the health care system. Whiteness enabled me to have access to mental health care. And I was lucky.
When white ethics infuse Christian theology, Christians are less compelled to shift the moral discourse around access to care or to advocate for something different. But there are ways ahead, and Christian voices like Pam Rocker's are leading the way.
“Important to us all is the work of the care of the whole self, which can be called ‘intelligent flesh,’” Rocker, from Hillhurst United Church of Canada, said. “ … ever so slowly, more people are speaking up in their faith communities about who they are, and how mental health issues affect them and their loved ones. Many faith leaders are being open about their own journeys of mental health, and this makes a huge difference in us knowing that we are not alone and that we are worthy of getting the support we deserve, without the judgment and stigma.”
If one of our greatest social sins is the lack of access to mental health care, it is a moral imperative begin a discourse around mental health in our faith communities so that we are not silencing those who live with experiences of mental illnesses.
Robyn Henderson-Espinoza, Ph.D, is Director of Public Theology Initiatives at Faith Matters Network in Nashville, Tenn., and Visiting Scholar, Vanderbilt University Divinity School. Follow them on Twitter at @irobyn.Read the article here.
The Power of Faith offers research showing that those who identify with a particular faith or spiritual tradition fare better when the ground gets shaky. The article shares how the tenets of many faith traditions including Christian, Buddhist and Islam can be a source of hope for those struggling with mental illness. "Faith and spirituality - whether formal or informal, and regardless of doctrine- can be an immense source of strength and comfort when dealing with the highs and lows of bipolar. Faith traditions provide a message of hope, a blueprint for living and a way to interpret the world, which can bring a sense of control and serenity when times are tough."
“I looked up ‘God’ in the card catalog and found some books,” recalls Marja. “I thought, ‘OK, I can believe this. Now what?’ Then I got a hold of a [the old testament] and it was like God was something completely new to me. I could see the truth in so many things I read. I just reached out and had to surrender.”
Faith and spirituality—whether formal or informal, and regardless of doctrine— can be an immense source of strength and comfort when dealing with the highs and lows of bipolar. Faith traditions provide a message of hope, a blueprint for living and a way to interpret the world, which can bring a sense of control and serenity when times are tough.
There is no lack of general research on the mental health benefits associated with belief in a higher power, including better coping skills, less anxiety and depression, less substance abuse and a happier, longer life span. More specific studies on health benefits for people with bipolar disorder, however, are limited.
Some indicate that faith can contribute to managing the illness. Believing in divine forgiveness may help ease guilt over the hurtful actions of manic behavior, for example, and singing and praying as a group during religious services can provide a sense of community. One study on religious involvement and bipolar, published in the journal Bipolar Disorders in February 2010, suggests that prayer or meditation may be an important coping mechanism for those in a mixed state (co-existing symptoms of mania and depression).
Other studies, however, show that people with bipolar disorder are less likely to attend religious services because it can be difficult to concentrate when the mind is racing or difficult to leave the house due to the lethargy of depression. In May, Baylor University psychologists published a study of four Protestant denominations that found families that have a member with mental illness often break off their connection with a religious community.
John T. of Chesterfield, Missouri, draws strength from membership in his nondenominational Christian church, where the pastor is a dear friend and source of emotional support. He also finds comfort in the [old testament]. After reading the Psalms of David during one psychiatric hospitalization, he wrote in the margins: “I’m not alone. I don’t feel forsaken.”
Diagnosed with bipolar in 1999, the former police officer has grappled with thoughts of self-harm, delusions of grandeur and other symptoms that aren’t fully controlled. After having to turn in his badge because of behaviors associated with his bipolar, John felt he’d lost his identity and direction. Volunteer work at his church, where he helps take care of the grounds and facilitates a support group for people with bipolar, helps fill the gap.
He admits that he sometimes asks God, “Why don’t you just heal me?” Still, the prism of his religion allows him to see meaning in having bipolar.
“I actually feel it’s a blessing that I’ve been allowed to have this disorder,” he says. “I can help people.”
Redefining Affliction
The Judeo-Christian tradition provides a powerful therapeutic model for overcoming affliction and suffering, according to Harold G. Koenig, PhD, co-director of the Center for Spirituality, Theology, and Health at Duke University Medical Center in North Carolina.
In Christianity, explains the author of such books as The Healing Power of Faith and Faith and Mental Health, “the central role model is Jesus Christ. He suffered terribly. He was rejected, he was ridiculed, he was in pain.
“To be called a Christian is to be like Jesus, so are you going to expect to have smooth sailing here? Absolutely not. And of course suffering has eternal significance.
“That’s what gives people hope with this disease,” Koenig adds. “It has meaning. And when it has meaning, it is easier to bear.”
Other faiths also have messages about facing life’s hardships. A central tenet of Buddhism, for instance, states that existence is suffering—and the Buddha’s teachings provide a means to overcome that inevitable pain.
Without much of a religious background growing up, T. Martin has turned in his adult life to both Buddhism and Christianity.
“When you read a lot of Buddhist and Christian teachings … they’re the same,” says Martin, a retired supervisor from Upstate New York who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2005. “They make you feel that there’s a message being given to you, and you just have to listen for it.”
Martin attends weekly scripture classes and meditation sessions. He travels to seminars on Buddhist concepts such as emptiness and impermanence. He spends time in his yard with a serene Buddha statue when he has trouble sleeping, doesn’t want to do anything, and feels like “a pile of goo.”
“Buddha gave us 84,000 teachings,” he says, “and so being with him is always very uplifting because basically he’s already given you the answer. Yes, you deal with suffering. But so does everybody else. You just have to have compassion.” As a Muslim, Sarah believes that trials and tribulations come as opportunities for growth in this life and rewards in the next.
“I realize that even though it’s a really hard lesson for me to learn, any tests I go through are a way of getting a blessing or reward from God,” says Sarah, a journalism student from Florida. She was diagnosed in 2007 at age 19.
Her religion also helped ease the guilt Sarah felt when she came across a letter written by her mother while looking through some files at home one day. In the letter, her mother explained that she’d missed so much work because she had to care for her daughter. Sarah had always assumed her mother simply had taken a lot of vacation days.
Confronted with the effect her disorder was having on her family, Sarah reminded herself of Koran scripture in which the prophets—whom she describes as “the best people who ever entered this earth”—bear more afflictions.
I actually feel it’s a blessing that I’ve been allowed to have this disorder. I can help people.
Islam also provides structure in her life, although mood shifts can make her faith practice challenging. When she’s feeling manic, it’s difficult to concentrate on the five daily prayers Muslims are required to perform; when she’s sluggish and sleeping a lot, it’s difficult to even get started.
When her husband recently filed for divorce after only two months of marriage, blaming her bipolar for the breakup, Sarah felt too depressed some days to pray at all. When she’s troubled by symptoms, however, her connection to a religious community helps her cope.
“There’s a saying in our religion that believers are all one body,” she says, “and when one part is ill or suffering, the entire body suffers. I have a really good support system of Muslim friends and counselors I can turn to. The rope of Islam has always been there for me to grab onto.”
In God’s hands
Working with a general population from various religions, University of Toronto psychologists discovered that belief in God can help diminish anxiety and stress. Their work, published in Psychological Science in March 2009, showed distinct brain differences between believers and non-believers. The stronger the religious zeal, the less activity there was in the anterior cingulate cortex, a portion of the brain responsible, in part, for self-generated negative thoughts and psychological pain. As a result, the researchers concluded, believers were less likely to worry about facing uncertainty.
In some circumstances, however, religious beliefs can inflict distress. Marja B. says people with mood disorders may feel guilty that their faith is not enough to bring them “a life of peace and joy.”
“They feel that something is wrong between them and God, that they’re not praying enough or believing enough, or that the Devil is getting a hold of them,” she explains.
Marja wrote A Firm Place to Stand to help those with mood disorders who struggle to fit in with their faith communities. In the book, she describes her transformation from an insecure, withdrawn woman to a leader, activist, and founder of Living Room, a Christian peer support group that over the past five years has grown to 15 chapters in Canada and the United States.
Marja says Living Room provides people with depression, anxiety and bipolar disorders a place to freely and comfortably discuss both their faith and mental health problems. Secular support groups often steer clear of religious topics, while church groups offer varying interpretations of what it means to have a mental illness.
She chooses to see her bipolar as “a gift, although it’s a very painful gift,” she says. “Spiritually, it has made me stronger because I’ve had to rely on God so much.
“And it’s given me meaning and purpose in life—to reduce the stigma in the church. I don’t think I’d be doing as well emotionally right now if I didn’t have this work to do.”
While research shows that a strong religious faith can help in living with a mood disorder, it is a complicated relationship, particularly given that hyperreligiosity—becoming obsessed with religious thoughts, hearing messages from God, and so on—can be a symptom of bipolar.
Angela B., who was diagnosed 24 years ago at age 20, remembers one hospitalization in which she would sneak out of her room at night to pray with the other patients, introducing herself as “a messenger of God.” Looking back, the Michigan teacher realizes that this occurred during a manic phase, but she says it felt “extraordinary to be so much in touch with God and Jesus.”
That’s when she relies on her spiritually like-minded friends, with their prayers and phone calls and scripture-filled notes. (One of her favorites is Psalm 55:22: “Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall.” )
Treatment Tool
Clinicians are more open to discussing a client’s faith than they were a decade ago, but there needs to be much more progress before the topic becomes a resource in treatment, say those in the field who are working to make that happen.
“Respecting the spiritual and religious beliefs of those who suffer from mental illness actually opens the way to greater meaning, support, even healing,” Nancy Kehoe, PhD, a psychologist and nun, writes in her book Wrestling with our Inner Angels: Faith, Mental Illness, and the Journey to Wholeness.
The reasons clinicians often shy away from doing so, she says in an interview, include an ambivalence about how much to explore, the therapist’s own religious history, and a concern that a client’s religiosity may be a symptom of their mental illness.
“If clinicians can understand that religion can be a source of strength and positive self-esteem,” she adds, “then they’ll be able to help foster the knowledge that the divine is going to be there even in the darkest moments. That’s what a lot of people need.”
Tagged with: faith, fall 2011, meditation, spirituality
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: ROBIN L. FLANIGANHas 36 Articles
Robin L. Flanigan is an award-winning journalist whose work has appeared in People magazine, US Airways Magazine and other national and regional publications. She lives in Rochester, New York.
View the article here.
Out of the depths is unique in that it is an Australian site solely for resources on the theme of mental illness ministry, prayer and spirituality founded on the writings of Henri Nouwen. These resources have been presented like an anthology so they can be readily accessed by those needing them, whether those with a mental health concern, their families, pastors or support workers. Visit the website.
To give new hope. Out of the Depths trusts that those visiting their site will know you are loved, accepted and supported in your journey with mental health concerns - however that particular journey has been unfolding. One of their desires for this resource is for you to know that you are not alone in your journey, and that there are those in our churches who do care and who would like to be an encouragement to you as you go through your tough times and also as you experience the joys of life.
"Writing about the spiritual life is like making prints from negatives ... Often it is the dark forest that makes us speak about the open field. Frequently prison makes us think about freedom, hunger helps us to appreciate food, and war gives us words for peace. Not seldom are our vision of the future born out of the sufferings of the present and our hope for others out of our own despair. Only few 'happy endings' make us happy but often someone's careful and honest articulation of the ambiguities, uncertainties, and painful conditions of life gives us new hope. The paradox is indeed that new life is born out of the pains of the old." (Henri Nouwen)
Be gentle with yourself. All of us are struggling and doing the best we can.
Be patient. Humans are incredibly complicated organisms, unpredictable even on our best days, and we will not always respond in the same way.
Be grateful. Many spiritual traditions urge cultivating a practice of gratitude, something as simple as finding three things each day, however small, to be thankful for. Gratitude can shift an entire world view toward greater trust, bit by bit.
Be vulnerable. We form our deepest connections with others not around our accomplishments or successes, but around our experiences of suffering. We bond when we share stories of those experiences with one another
Be kind. When we notice someone else, even for just a moment in a shared glance or holding open a door, we are lifted out of our own loneliness and a bit closer into the human community.
Many of the books lifted up in our e-Spotlights are included in the Books section on the Mental Health Ministries website. While it is not possible to include all books addressing spirituality/faith and mental illness, we will continue to add book titles that we feature in our e-Spotlights. In most cases there is a link to purchasing these books through Amazon. We encourage you to browse through these books to find ones that may be helpful in your situation.
After battling bipolar disorder and finding no spiritual support group for his own journey to wholeness, Pastor Brad Hoefs developed his own support group model and workbook. Fresh Hope combines teaching sections centered on basic tenets for recovery. These include accepting a diagnosis, restoring relationships, pushing past excuses and faulty thinking patterns, choosing hope, trusting others, understanding the role of medications and God's purposes for pain. The interactive workbook format allows the individual to respond to supporting Bible passages and recovery principles. Hoef's psychiatrist, Dr. Michael Egger, briefly contributes medical information regarding mood disorders in the Q&A sections at the end of each chapter. The book is available in paperback and as an e-book and is suitable for recovery support groups.
Available on Amazon.
There is something mysterious about hope. You can be in dire straits and have a great deal of hope. You can have everything going your way and have little or no hope at all. As Jevne and Miller explain in this book, hope has a powerful effect upon your life. After explaining what hope is and is not, they describe how it works and offer twenty-two specific ideas about how to find, keep, and build hope in one's personal life. The book is designed to be not just about hope but an experience in hope itself. It contains many insightful quotations from the ages as well as black and white photography that is hopeful in effect.
Available on Amazon. Note: This item is only available from third-party sellers
How do Christians in the twenty-first century understand psychological disorders? What does Scripture have to teach us about these conditions? Marcia Webb examines attitudes about psychological disorder in the church today, and compares them to the scriptural testimony. She offers theological and psychological insights to help contemporary Christians integrate biblical perspectives with current scientific knowledge about mental illness.
Available on Amazon.
Sharing Your StoryWhen Mental Health Ministries started in 2001, there was not much attention given to addressing the stigma of mental illness in our faith communities. Since then there is increasing awareness of the important role of faith and spirituality in the treatment and recovery process. There is the recognition that faith communities are in a unique position to be caring congregations for persons living with a mental illness and those who care for them. When faith leaders and faith communities are educated about mental illness, they can be an important part of a support community by forming collaborative relationships with local mental health providers, advocacy groups and other community partners. We can learn from each other.
The It Worked For Us section of our website has two parts: What We Are Doing and Your Ideas. This is a way for faith communities to share what they are doing...what has worked and what the challenges have been. How did your ministry get started? Where did you find the support and encouragement to move forward? What resources did you find helpful?
You are invited and encouraged to share what is happening in your congregation, faith group or community to erase the stigma of mental illness and provide caring and compassionate support for persons affected by mental illness. You can contact Mental Health Ministries through the website or by e-mailing Susan at sgschroed@cox.net.
Last spring, a friend of mine, Karolyn Stenlund, who is also a spiritual director and I, inspired by an effort we read about, decided to embark on a joint adventure of listening to people on the streets of the Tenderloin district in San Francisco, one of city's poorest neighborhoods. We were able to obtain the sponsorship of the Faithful Fools Street Ministry in San Francisco, and a small grant from the city to cover our expenses. We joined an effort called "Sidewalk Talk" that has volunteers who set up chairs and "free listening" signs in various public spaces. Sidewalk Talk's mission is "to nurture human connection by teaching and practicing heart-centered listening in public spaces." The goal is about de-stigmatizing mental health.
Today, Sidewalk Talk has 700 volunteers world-wide in 19 cities around the globe, with more being added all the time. They have a website www.sidewalktalksf.com where people can sign up to be "listeners" and can be trained in an excellent on-line training.
When I explained to one man that we weren't selling anything or trying to convert anyone, he asked, "Then, why do you come? What's in it for you?" I said, "I have the satisfaction of knowing I am helping to make the world a friendlier place." There is something sacred about people having authentic conversation about the important situations of their lives. There is no small talk, no jockeying for relative position. Just sharing from one heart to another.
Rev. Barbara F. Meyers
Fremont, California
www.mpuuc.org/mhm/
My husband and I had the opportunity to be part of a 15-person team to visit Cambodia. In the village we spent time with the families and at the school. My first career before becoming a minister was as a Kindergarten teacher. I brought a large suitcase of toys and art supplies and organized activities to help our group interact with these delightful children.
Cambodia is a country that has suffered greatly from U.S. bombs dropped during the Vietnam War but especially from the genocide at the hands of the Khmer Rouge from 1975-1979. So many people were killed that much of the Cambodian population is under age 35. The persons who survived the horrors of the "killing fields" mostly do not talk about their experiences. Many survivors suffer from "Baksbat" which is translated as "broken courage." While some symptoms are similar to PTSD, Baksbat is a unique cultural response to trauma that includes avoidance and the inability to speak out.
Cambodia is primarily a Buddhist county. We had the opportunity to work with a wonderful monk who helps oversee the Cambodian Village Project. We learned much about the Buddhist faith. Some of the tenants of Buddhism are the acceptance of suffering, compassion for others, living in the present moment and a commitment to peace and a love of all people.
One thing that surprised me was how happy the people were even though they lacked so much of what we take for granted. The extended family lives together or nearby. They help and support each other. We visited the family of one of the scholarship girls whose father lost a leg from a land mine and is unable to work in the rice fields. The feeling of community and the acceptance of each person just as they are provides the villagers with a sense of belonging and connection. Isn't this something that we all long for? I came away feeling that in many ways these wonderful people were "richer" than many of us in what really counts.
We visited several places where the older generation is teaching the lost Khmer arts such as music, dance, weaving, carving and pottery. One of the places we visited had a room of girls learning enamel painting. All the girls were deaf. The room was silent as all the girls communicated in sign language. They had their own sense of community.
Stan and I also had the opportunity to visit the many ancient sites in Cambodia. We learned the rich Khmer history that incorporated early Hinduism and Buddhism in harmony depicted in the many beautiful temple carvings. We saw the sunrise at Angkor Wat.
I learned much about the Buddhist traditions and realize how much we have to learn from each other when we treat all people with love and respect. We all experience difficult times or suffering in our lives. Hopefully we can find a way to connect to other caring, accepting and compassionate people. One of the monks who was very influential in negotiating peace in Cambodia and with the surrounding countries lived by the motto that "Peace is possible!" This peace is also something to be nurtured deep in one's heart. Maha Ghosananda wrote:
The suffering of Cambodia has been deep.
From this suffering comes Great Compassion.
Great Compassion makes a peaceful Heart.
Rev. Susan Gregg-Schroeder
Coordinator of Mental Health Ministries
www.MentalHealthMinistries.net
STAY CONNECTED:
Article - I'm a Pastor with Depression. For Years I Thought I Had to Hide It
In an article from Sojourners, Jason Chesnut shares his story of a pastor living with depression. He states, "One of the most insidious parts of mental illness is the feeling that no one else could possibly understand what you are going through. The isolation is immense and inescapable. Your brain feeds into this, and the demon wants nothing more than for you to suffer in silence. This is an acute distress for those in the church, where our identities are usually rooted in commandments around community."There was no way I could tell anyone about this diagnosis. Forget talking about it in regular conversation — I'm a pastor, for God’s sakes, a leader in the Christian church. I couldn’t be dealing with this. I needed to man up, I told myself — I’d get tough, and pull myself out of this nightmare.
“Demons” have never been part of my religious vocabulary. Growing up in a fundamentalist Christian community, spending my teens as an agnostic, then becoming a Lutheran pastor, at every turn, my faith journey made me wary of terms like that. I mean, it wasn’t like I was living in a scene from The Exorcist, right?
But ever since I began walking with depression, that term has taken on new meaning. Depression lies to me. It is relentless. It tells me I will always feel this way, that I’m not deserving of help, that I am a burden, a waste — that my life is thoroughly hopeless. The demon of depression tells me that this is my fault. It tells me that I am utterly alone.
Mark’s gospel, in particular, depicts numerous instances in which a demon is present. The possessed person is often blamed for this, but Jesus never uses that logic himself. He doesn’t condemn a possessed person for their reality, and he doesn’t tell them to just get over it. Jesus does what Jesus does: He heals them.
The more time I spend with these stories, the more I identify with the demon-possessed people — the Gerasene demoniac (5:1-20); the masses outside Simon’s house (1:32-34); the boy with the unclean spirit (9:14-27). As a biblical storyteller — someone who learns biblical stories by heart and tells them to others — these intense moments have become an inextricable part of me.
So, yes, even in our 21st-century Christianity, when we say that God’s story is our story, this has to include the demon-possessed.
I left Wisconsin a year after my diagnosis and found myself in Baltimore, starting a new Christian community. I also started a video company that expands my call as a pastor, telling the stories of God and God’s people.
I'm now in a city I love, surrounded by a network of friends, and doing work that fulfills me. But the demon remains. It is nothing if not persistent.
People, even the most well-meaning among them, will often use the Bible to try to help. They don’t usually head to Mark’s gospel, though. They’ll throw Philippians my way, referencing things like “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (4:13); or they share Paul’s letter to the Romans, encouraging me to “increase” my faith so that I will “get better” (4:20-21); they send me “inspirational” quotations from a Google image search.
The stigma around mental illness only makes the silence and shame worse. Unlike a broken leg, I don’t have a tried-and-true pathway to healing and wholeness. The medication for our brains is not fully understood, even by professionals. It’s a lot of guesswork. We simply don’t know. That unknowing is often paralyzing and downright scary.
One of the most insidious parts of mental illness is the feeling that no one else could possibly understand what you are going through. The isolation is immense and inescapable. Your brain feeds into this, and the demon wants nothing more than for you to suffer in silence. This is an acute distress for those in the church, where our identities are usually rooted in commandments around community. Mark’s gospel is again instructive, as we see Jesus in Gethsemane, “distressed and agitated,” telling the disciples that he was “deeply grieved, even to death” (14:33-34).
What a searing image. If Jesus suffered with all humanity during the Passion narrative, wouldn’t that include mentally as well? As Christians, we are really good at proclaiming the full divinity of Jesus, but when it comes to his full humanity, we often skirt around the issue. But in a country where 16 million adults suffer from depression each year, and where many politicians recently stood in the White House Rose Garden to celebrate the passage of a bill that would classify mental illness as a preexisting condition and allow states to opt out of covering it at all, we desperately need a savior who suffers with us.
My depression is frustratingly, deeply, a part of me. My brain chemistry is wired in such a way that I struggle, through no fault of my own. But I do not struggle alone. As a Christian leader, this is my fervent hope and prayer.
Read the article here.
Book - In the Shadow of God's Wings: Grace in the Midst of Depression
Note: This item is only available on Amazon from third-party sellers. It can also be purchased from the Mental Health Ministries website for $10.
Article - Preaching on Mental Health
Article - Ways to Be a Good Friend for Someone With a Mental Illness
21 Ways to Be a Good Friend for Someone With a Mental Illness
Sarah Schuster, Staff
Friendships can be vital for getting through the hard times life inevitably throws at us. If you need to cry, laugh or forget about your worries for a little while, friends are an important support system. For those who live with mental illnesses, this social support can be especially important. Friends keep us grounded and can provide the connection we need to remind us we’re worth having around.We asked people in our community who live with mental illnesses to tell us what makes a good friend. If you’re a friend of someone who has a mental illness, their answer might provide some insight.
Here’s what they told us:
1. “Give me a hug and let me vent. Sometimes that’s the best thing someone can do.” (Abigayle Petty)
2. “Just treat me the way you did before I became ill.” (Denise Cochrane)
3. “Don’t tell me to put my big girl panties, but do tell me you support me and love me anyway.” (Andrea Heer)
4. “Just calling to ask how I’m doing means a great deal.” (Winona O’Reilly)
5. “Don’t confuse my humor, joy, wit or intelligence as symptoms of my illness.” (Rebecca Chamaa)
RESOURCES FROM R U OK?
- How to start a conversation with someone you’re worried about
- Free resources to inspire conversations every day
- R U OK? Day
7. “Ask me what I need, and give time when the answer is ‘I don’t know.’” (Beth Ann Morhardt)
8. “Help destigmatize. Be mindful of your language choices, privately and publicly.” (Sarah Clark)
9. “Please be willing to try and ride the waves with me. Just meet me where I’m at… whether I’m up or down, don’t leave me.” (Miranda Tymoschuk)
10. “My husband is a prime example. He gives me space to have my small freak outs, but is always there when I cling to him. It’s all about what they need and want at the time. It makes a huge difference” (Marcus Wattson)
11. “The biggest support for me is to be validated. Let me know it’s OK to feel this way. I’ll be here for you and promise not to fix you, but to support you.” (Melissa Fryburger-Long)
12. “Come to my side to help. Social media is great, but good old fashioned face time is what I need. Pull me out of my cave and keep me moving!” (Michelle Balck)
13. “Don’t try to ‘fix’ me — that’s my job. But encouragement and moral support? That is what I need most.” (Selena Marie Wilson)
14. “I would say just be there. Listen. You don’t necessarily need to understand, but being open minded is always a plus. And comfort, give hugs, let me cry even if it sounds ridiculous. What I’m crying about isn’t ridiculous to me.” (Nikki Ronnenberg)
15. “I know that standing by watching someone suffer can be a lot to handle, but the best thing a friend can do is to keep being my friend and not let the mental illness come between us.” (Kimberly Edwards)
16. “Educate yourself. You don’t need to understand everything or even why it’s happening, but a little knowledge can go a long way when it comes to support. Don’t shut down when I talk about the dark parts; I already feel bad enough. And reassure me you’ll be there at the end.” (Paige Alyssa O’Connor)
17. “Understand that sometimes I can’t hang out, but not because I don’t want to. Accept that it’s in fact an illness and I’m not making an excuse.” (Shannon Trevino)
18. “My friends are great because nothing fazes them. When I return home from months in the hospital, they treat me like I’ve never been away.” (Jenny Bridger)
19. “Continue to be my friend, and be there for me. Recognize I might need more support, or space, or just someone to listen and be present with me, but that ultimately knowing you’re there and having your friendship is the best support. The difficult feelings will pass — remind me of that — but most of all be there, listen and remind me that our friendship will still be there after a difficult time.” (Lucy Ingram)
20. “Tell me I’m not a burden to you. Because I feel like I’m dragging you down with me when I pick up the phone and say I’m hurting, struggling or need some one to reach out to.” (MK Knight)
21. “I love when I can laugh with my friends. For a while I forget all about my depression and anxiety.” (MK Knight)
*Answers have been edited and shortened for brevity.
Find this story helpful?Share it with someone you care about.
Sarah Schuster is the mental health editor at The Mighty. She thinks every day should be a mental health day.
Read the article here.
Article - America's Long-Suffering Mental Health System
YouTube Video - People with Mental Health Disabilities Shut Down Dangerous Ideas About Gun Violence
The assertion that severe mental illnesses cause gun violence, specifically mass shootings, is not helpful and not accurate, but it is harmful. It is a dangerous idea. And we hear it from the media and our leaders all the time. View the video here.
Article - The Silent Stigma of Mental Illness
The Silent Stigma of Mental Illness in the Church NEWS by Robyn Henderson-Espinoza
Christianity has a bad habit of diminishing the body in favor of elevating the mind. For Plato and Descartes, two philosophers who have heavily influenced the Western church’s thinking on spirit and flesh, the body was imagined as an inferior attachment to an idealized, spiritual mind.What this has created is a divide between body and soul — a focus on the care of the soul in our churches, with little attention given to how the health of mind, body, and soul are integrated. This has not only created bad religion, but has meant that Christians overlook the prevalence of mental illness in their churches. And this is affecting church communities in significant ways.
The belief that bodies don’t matter is often informed by theologies and ethics that do not integrate the body with the soul. This is a common experience in the church, said Dr. Kathryn Ott, Assistant Professor of Christian Social Ethics at Drew Theological School. In an email for this story, Ott wrote:
Various experiences of church may provide sanctuary, community, and welcome depending on the type and severity of mental illness. Yet, in the routine life of a church community, those with mental illnesses are often further marginalized by behavioral and spiritual requirements that through faith one should get better, find happiness, serve not be served, or be disciplined to a collective form of worship.
According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, the nation’s largest grassroots mental health organization, nearly 1-in-5 adults in the U.S. — 43.8 million people — experience mental illness in a given year, and 21.4 percent of youth 13-18 will experience a severe mental disorder at some point during their lifetime.Churches don’t often name the reality of its members living with experiences of mental illness.
“ … mental health is often erroneously intertwined with weakness or lack of willpower,” said Pam Rocker, Affirming Coordinator for Hillhurst United Church in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. “Many [Christians] are not encouraged to seek counseling, but instead are encouraged to pray harder and have more faith.”
In an effort to begin the conversation within a church context, some Christians have found that their personal testimony is the best form of evidence. Singer-songwriter Jennifer Knapp shared her own story with Sojourners, of how discussions of mental illness in Christian circles were largely related to sin and suffering.
“In my own life-long management of depression, I have experienced the best and the worst of faith-based responses to my mental health,” she said. “At its worst, I have experienced utter rejection from the church. Other times, I’ve been counseled to absorb my sufferings as a punishment for my sins and a call to repentance. At its best, I’ve been fully embraced as I have come and have experienced healing, restorative empathy in a spiritually knowledgeable community.”
Many churches don’t have a robust theology that accounts for those who live with experiences of mental illness. Rev. Alba Onofrio, spiritual strategist at LGBTQ justice oriented Soulforce, said that salvation-focused strains of Christianity — like evangelicalism, which emphasizes “tests of faith” on the way to being "born again" into a sinless life — don't leave much room for “a good answer for why good, believing Christians still suffer so much from illness.”
“Some say it’s a test, being put through the fire; some … remind us that ‘God never gives us more than we can handle.’ Both of these, quite frankly, are crap,” Onofrio said. “I don't believe God gives us mental illness or cancer or any other suffering as a test of our faith or a punishment for the lack thereof. And I know from the incredibly high statistics of suicide among certain marginalized communities that some times we are absolutely faced with more than we have tools to handle."
The bottom line, Onofrio said, is that illnesses and disabilities don’t fit in to mainstream theologies. Because of this, Christian ethics and moral imagination often diminish people who live with experiences of mental illness.
Beyond individual care for those in the pews, however, is the question of systemic policies that prevent health and healing. And here, too, Christian narratives matter in the public square.
“Even when we are brave enough to name evil, we tend to focus on individual actions or people as the culprit, not systems of injustice, not empire, not Christian hegemony,” Onofrio said.
From policymakers writing bills that gut expansive coverage for mental health to the ongoing privatization of insurance companies, there are already many barriers to access for care. One-in-five adults in the U.S. experiencing mental illness in a given year means this issue lives in the church, and it’s important to recognize how theological and ethical narratives shape the ways in which we create or don’t create access for mental health care for millions of people.
Ott points out that social structures like poverty, racism, sexism, and violence can enhance or diminish health, just as can biological or genetic factors.
“Both of these aspects constrain ‘choice,’ as Christians theologically and ethically understand moral decisions. They also suggest that the response to mental health issues should be equally diversified in terms of advocating for social justice, individual health care access, communal support, research and education,” Ott said “Churches need to make the shift away from stigmatizing mental health as a moral failing or result of personal sin and instead promote theologies and provide resources that support and sustain those with mental health issues and their families.”
Today, our health care system — like the church — is rooted in a culture of whiteness, one that perpetuates a logic of dominance. While completing doctoral work in Colorado, I noticed that Kaiser mental health facilities were located primarily in affluent communities. This creates one kind of barrier to access — for many people of color, even if we can physically get to a clinic, we do not know how to navigate the system, which is another barrier. Oftentimes, we fail, which means our mental illness goes undiagnosed and, worst, untreated.
In 2009, I was diagnosed with a mental illness. As a non-binary trans person of color, my Latinx heritage and family of origin did not school me in ways to access health care. But I was then-partnered with a cis white woman who worked in health care and knew how to navigate the hospital, so I received access to the best health care in Chicago. I was connected with one of the best psychiatrists in Chicago, who was not queerphobic or transphobic, and was able to change medicines easily. And because my cis white partner knew that the integration of head, heart, and body was important, we later joined a support group in Chicago with the Depression & Bipolar Support Alliance.
I was dependent on my white cis partner to not only help me but advocate for me, and my treatment was all due to my cis white partner knowing how to navigate the health care system. Whiteness enabled me to have access to mental health care. And I was lucky.
When white ethics infuse Christian theology, Christians are less compelled to shift the moral discourse around access to care or to advocate for something different. But there are ways ahead, and Christian voices like Pam Rocker's are leading the way.
“Important to us all is the work of the care of the whole self, which can be called ‘intelligent flesh,’” Rocker, from Hillhurst United Church of Canada, said. “ … ever so slowly, more people are speaking up in their faith communities about who they are, and how mental health issues affect them and their loved ones. Many faith leaders are being open about their own journeys of mental health, and this makes a huge difference in us knowing that we are not alone and that we are worthy of getting the support we deserve, without the judgment and stigma.”
If one of our greatest social sins is the lack of access to mental health care, it is a moral imperative begin a discourse around mental health in our faith communities so that we are not silencing those who live with experiences of mental illnesses.
Christianity has a bad habit of diminishing the body in favor of elevating the mind. For Plato and Descartes, two philosophers who have heavily influenced the Western church’s thinking on spirit and flesh, the body was imagined as an inferior attachment to an idealized, spiritual mind.
What this has created is a divide between body and soul — a focus on the care of the soul in our churches, with little attention given to how the health of mind, body, and soul are integrated. This has not only created bad religion, but has meant that Christians overlook the prevalence of mental illness in their churches. And this is affecting church communities in significant ways.
The belief that bodies don’t matter is often informed by theologies and ethics that do not integrate the body with the soul. This is a common experience in the church, said Dr. Kathryn Ott, Assistant Professor of Christian Social Ethics at Drew Theological School. In an email for this story, Ott wrote:
Various experiences of church may provide sanctuary, community, and welcome depending on the type and severity of mental illness. Yet, in the routine life of a church community, those with mental illnesses are often further marginalized by behavioral and spiritual requirements that through faith one should get better, find happiness, serve not be served, or be disciplined to a collective form of worship.
According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, the nation’s largest grassroots mental health organization, nearly 1-in-5 adults in the U.S. — 43.8 million people — experience mental illness in a given year, and 21.4 percent of youth 13-18 will experience a severe mental disorder at some point during their lifetime.Churches don’t often name the reality of its members living with experiences of mental illness.
“ … mental health is often erroneously intertwined with weakness or lack of willpower,” said Pam Rocker, Affirming Coordinator for Hillhurst United Church in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. “Many [Christians] are not encouraged to seek counseling, but instead are encouraged to pray harder and have more faith.”
In an effort to begin the conversation within a church context, some Christians have found that their personal testimony is the best form of evidence. Singer-songwriter Jennifer Knapp shared her own story with Sojourners, of how discussions of mental illness in Christian circles were largely related to sin and suffering.
“In my own life-long management of depression, I have experienced the best and the worst of faith-based responses to my mental health,” she said. “At its worst, I have experienced utter rejection from the church. Other times, I’ve been counseled to absorb my sufferings as a punishment for my sins and a call to repentance. At its best, I’ve been fully embraced as I have come and have experienced healing, restorative empathy in a spiritually knowledgeable community.”
Many churches don’t have a robust theology that accounts for those who live with experiences of mental illness. Rev. Alba Onofrio, spiritual strategist at LGBTQ justice oriented Soulforce, said that salvation-focused strains of Christianity — like evangelicalism, which emphasizes “tests of faith” on the way to being "born again" into a sinless life — don't leave much room for “a good answer for why good, believing Christians still suffer so much from illness.”
“Some say it’s a test, being put through the fire; some … remind us that ‘God never gives us more than we can handle.’ Both of these, quite frankly, are crap,” Onofrio said. “I don't believe God gives us mental illness or cancer or any other suffering as a test of our faith or a punishment for the lack thereof. And I know from the incredibly high statistics of suicide among certain marginalized communities that some times we are absolutely faced with more than we have tools to handle."
The bottom line, Onofrio said, is that illnesses and disabilities don’t fit in to mainstream theologies. Because of this, Christian ethics and moral imagination often diminish people who live with experiences of mental illness.
Beyond individual care for those in the pews, however, is the question of systemic policies that prevent health and healing. And here, too, Christian narratives matter in the public square.
“Even when we are brave enough to name evil, we tend to focus on individual actions or people as the culprit, not systems of injustice, not empire, not Christian hegemony,” Onofrio said.
From policymakers writing bills that gut expansive coverage for mental health to the ongoing privatization of insurance companies, there are already many barriers to access for care. One-in-five adults in the U.S. experiencing mental illness in a given year means this issue lives in the church, and it’s important to recognize how theological and ethical narratives shape the ways in which we create or don’t create access for mental health care for millions of people.
Ott points out that social structures like poverty, racism, sexism, and violence can enhance or diminish health, just as can biological or genetic factors.
“Both of these aspects constrain ‘choice,’ as Christians theologically and ethically understand moral decisions. They also suggest that the response to mental health issues should be equally diversified in terms of advocating for social justice, individual health care access, communal support, research and education,” Ott said “Churches need to make the shift away from stigmatizing mental health as a moral failing or result of personal sin and instead promote theologies and provide resources that support and sustain those with mental health issues and their families.”
Today, our health care system — like the church — is rooted in a culture of whiteness, one that perpetuates a logic of dominance. While completing doctoral work in Colorado, I noticed that Kaiser mental health facilities were located primarily in affluent communities. This creates one kind of barrier to access — for many people of color, even if we can physically get to a clinic, we do not know how to navigate the system, which is another barrier. Oftentimes, we fail, which means our mental illness goes undiagnosed and, worst, untreated.
In 2009, I was diagnosed with a mental illness. As a non-binary trans person of color, my Latinx heritage and family of origin did not school me in ways to access health care. But I was then-partnered with a cis white woman who worked in health care and knew how to navigate the hospital, so I received access to the best health care in Chicago. I was connected with one of the best psychiatrists in Chicago, who was not queerphobic or transphobic, and was able to change medicines easily. And because my cis white partner knew that the integration of head, heart, and body was important, we later joined a support group in Chicago with the Depression & Bipolar Support Alliance.
I was dependent on my white cis partner to not only help me but advocate for me, and my treatment was all due to my cis white partner knowing how to navigate the health care system. Whiteness enabled me to have access to mental health care. And I was lucky.
When white ethics infuse Christian theology, Christians are less compelled to shift the moral discourse around access to care or to advocate for something different. But there are ways ahead, and Christian voices like Pam Rocker's are leading the way.
“Important to us all is the work of the care of the whole self, which can be called ‘intelligent flesh,’” Rocker, from Hillhurst United Church of Canada, said. “ … ever so slowly, more people are speaking up in their faith communities about who they are, and how mental health issues affect them and their loved ones. Many faith leaders are being open about their own journeys of mental health, and this makes a huge difference in us knowing that we are not alone and that we are worthy of getting the support we deserve, without the judgment and stigma.”
If one of our greatest social sins is the lack of access to mental health care, it is a moral imperative begin a discourse around mental health in our faith communities so that we are not silencing those who live with experiences of mental illnesses.
Article - The Power of Faith
Bipolar & The Importance Of Faith
Faith and spirituality—whether formal or informal, and regardless of doctrine— can be an immense source of strength and comfort when dealing with the highs and lows of bipolar. by Robin L. Flanigan
Marja B. found God at her public library.
Born into a Christian family, she went to Sunday School because it was expected. As a teenager, she turned her back on religion. By the time she turned 40, with a recent diagnosis of bipolar disorder after two decades of uncontrolled symptoms, she was ready for a spiritual quest. So she went to the library.“I looked up ‘God’ in the card catalog and found some books,” recalls Marja. “I thought, ‘OK, I can believe this. Now what?’ Then I got a hold of a [the old testament] and it was like God was something completely new to me. I could see the truth in so many things I read. I just reached out and had to surrender.”
Faith and spirituality—whether formal or informal, and regardless of doctrine— can be an immense source of strength and comfort when dealing with the highs and lows of bipolar. Faith traditions provide a message of hope, a blueprint for living and a way to interpret the world, which can bring a sense of control and serenity when times are tough.
There is no lack of general research on the mental health benefits associated with belief in a higher power, including better coping skills, less anxiety and depression, less substance abuse and a happier, longer life span. More specific studies on health benefits for people with bipolar disorder, however, are limited.
Some indicate that faith can contribute to managing the illness. Believing in divine forgiveness may help ease guilt over the hurtful actions of manic behavior, for example, and singing and praying as a group during religious services can provide a sense of community. One study on religious involvement and bipolar, published in the journal Bipolar Disorders in February 2010, suggests that prayer or meditation may be an important coping mechanism for those in a mixed state (co-existing symptoms of mania and depression).
Other studies, however, show that people with bipolar disorder are less likely to attend religious services because it can be difficult to concentrate when the mind is racing or difficult to leave the house due to the lethargy of depression. In May, Baylor University psychologists published a study of four Protestant denominations that found families that have a member with mental illness often break off their connection with a religious community.
Buddha gave us 84,000 teachings, and so being with him is always very uplifting because basically he’s already given you the answer.
Those who do participate in communal worship or have a committed personal practice often credit their faith or spirituality for helping them feel more grounded when their world gets shaky.John T. of Chesterfield, Missouri, draws strength from membership in his nondenominational Christian church, where the pastor is a dear friend and source of emotional support. He also finds comfort in the [old testament]. After reading the Psalms of David during one psychiatric hospitalization, he wrote in the margins: “I’m not alone. I don’t feel forsaken.”
Diagnosed with bipolar in 1999, the former police officer has grappled with thoughts of self-harm, delusions of grandeur and other symptoms that aren’t fully controlled. After having to turn in his badge because of behaviors associated with his bipolar, John felt he’d lost his identity and direction. Volunteer work at his church, where he helps take care of the grounds and facilitates a support group for people with bipolar, helps fill the gap.
He admits that he sometimes asks God, “Why don’t you just heal me?” Still, the prism of his religion allows him to see meaning in having bipolar.
“I actually feel it’s a blessing that I’ve been allowed to have this disorder,” he says. “I can help people.”
Redefining Affliction
The Judeo-Christian tradition provides a powerful therapeutic model for overcoming affliction and suffering, according to Harold G. Koenig, PhD, co-director of the Center for Spirituality, Theology, and Health at Duke University Medical Center in North Carolina.
In Christianity, explains the author of such books as The Healing Power of Faith and Faith and Mental Health, “the central role model is Jesus Christ. He suffered terribly. He was rejected, he was ridiculed, he was in pain.
“To be called a Christian is to be like Jesus, so are you going to expect to have smooth sailing here? Absolutely not. And of course suffering has eternal significance.
“That’s what gives people hope with this disease,” Koenig adds. “It has meaning. And when it has meaning, it is easier to bear.”
Other faiths also have messages about facing life’s hardships. A central tenet of Buddhism, for instance, states that existence is suffering—and the Buddha’s teachings provide a means to overcome that inevitable pain.
Without much of a religious background growing up, T. Martin has turned in his adult life to both Buddhism and Christianity.
“When you read a lot of Buddhist and Christian teachings … they’re the same,” says Martin, a retired supervisor from Upstate New York who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2005. “They make you feel that there’s a message being given to you, and you just have to listen for it.”
Martin attends weekly scripture classes and meditation sessions. He travels to seminars on Buddhist concepts such as emptiness and impermanence. He spends time in his yard with a serene Buddha statue when he has trouble sleeping, doesn’t want to do anything, and feels like “a pile of goo.”
“Buddha gave us 84,000 teachings,” he says, “and so being with him is always very uplifting because basically he’s already given you the answer. Yes, you deal with suffering. But so does everybody else. You just have to have compassion.” As a Muslim, Sarah believes that trials and tribulations come as opportunities for growth in this life and rewards in the next.
“I realize that even though it’s a really hard lesson for me to learn, any tests I go through are a way of getting a blessing or reward from God,” says Sarah, a journalism student from Florida. She was diagnosed in 2007 at age 19.
Her religion also helped ease the guilt Sarah felt when she came across a letter written by her mother while looking through some files at home one day. In the letter, her mother explained that she’d missed so much work because she had to care for her daughter. Sarah had always assumed her mother simply had taken a lot of vacation days.
Confronted with the effect her disorder was having on her family, Sarah reminded herself of Koran scripture in which the prophets—whom she describes as “the best people who ever entered this earth”—bear more afflictions.
I actually feel it’s a blessing that I’ve been allowed to have this disorder. I can help people.
Islam also provides structure in her life, although mood shifts can make her faith practice challenging. When she’s feeling manic, it’s difficult to concentrate on the five daily prayers Muslims are required to perform; when she’s sluggish and sleeping a lot, it’s difficult to even get started.
When her husband recently filed for divorce after only two months of marriage, blaming her bipolar for the breakup, Sarah felt too depressed some days to pray at all. When she’s troubled by symptoms, however, her connection to a religious community helps her cope.
“There’s a saying in our religion that believers are all one body,” she says, “and when one part is ill or suffering, the entire body suffers. I have a really good support system of Muslim friends and counselors I can turn to. The rope of Islam has always been there for me to grab onto.”
In God’s hands
In addition to the comfort of scripture and the support of a faith community, belief in a divine power has a positive effect on well-being.
Research from Rush University Medical Center in Chicago, published in the Journal of Clinical Psychology in 2010, suggests that for patients with major depression or bipolar disorder, believing in a concerned God can improve response to medical treatment. The positive response to medication was specifically tied not just to belief in a supreme being, but in a supreme being who cared.Working with a general population from various religions, University of Toronto psychologists discovered that belief in God can help diminish anxiety and stress. Their work, published in Psychological Science in March 2009, showed distinct brain differences between believers and non-believers. The stronger the religious zeal, the less activity there was in the anterior cingulate cortex, a portion of the brain responsible, in part, for self-generated negative thoughts and psychological pain. As a result, the researchers concluded, believers were less likely to worry about facing uncertainty.
The rope of Islam have always been there for me to grab onto.
Lead researcher Michael Inzlicht, PhD, an associate professor of psychology at the University of Toronto Scarborough, supposes “this could mean those with bipolar disorder would have a calming effect as well, even if it gives you one extra tool to help regulate your own emotions.”In some circumstances, however, religious beliefs can inflict distress. Marja B. says people with mood disorders may feel guilty that their faith is not enough to bring them “a life of peace and joy.”
“They feel that something is wrong between them and God, that they’re not praying enough or believing enough, or that the Devil is getting a hold of them,” she explains.
Marja wrote A Firm Place to Stand to help those with mood disorders who struggle to fit in with their faith communities. In the book, she describes her transformation from an insecure, withdrawn woman to a leader, activist, and founder of Living Room, a Christian peer support group that over the past five years has grown to 15 chapters in Canada and the United States.
Marja says Living Room provides people with depression, anxiety and bipolar disorders a place to freely and comfortably discuss both their faith and mental health problems. Secular support groups often steer clear of religious topics, while church groups offer varying interpretations of what it means to have a mental illness.
She chooses to see her bipolar as “a gift, although it’s a very painful gift,” she says. “Spiritually, it has made me stronger because I’ve had to rely on God so much.
“And it’s given me meaning and purpose in life—to reduce the stigma in the church. I don’t think I’d be doing as well emotionally right now if I didn’t have this work to do.”
* * * * *
Finding a BalanceWhile research shows that a strong religious faith can help in living with a mood disorder, it is a complicated relationship, particularly given that hyperreligiosity—becoming obsessed with religious thoughts, hearing messages from God, and so on—can be a symptom of bipolar.
Angela B., who was diagnosed 24 years ago at age 20, remembers one hospitalization in which she would sneak out of her room at night to pray with the other patients, introducing herself as “a messenger of God.” Looking back, the Michigan teacher realizes that this occurred during a manic phase, but she says it felt “extraordinary to be so much in touch with God and Jesus.”
Angela admits that when she gets depressed, “I get wrapped up in worry and paranoia and I lose touch with my faith.”
She rolls up in a ball on the couch, wanting to hide, and feels disconnected from her three children, ages 8 to 13. “I basically just care for their functional needs,” she says. “But I don’t talk to them, or caress them, or act like their mother. I’m like a ghost around the house.”That’s when she relies on her spiritually like-minded friends, with their prayers and phone calls and scripture-filled notes. (One of her favorites is Psalm 55:22: “Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall.” )
Her religion assures her that there is a purpose behind everything.
“Putting your hands into God’s hands is a strong component of surviving this illness,” says Benchley, who started a support group three years ago at her church. “I don’t know how people do it without Him.”Treatment Tool
Clinicians are more open to discussing a client’s faith than they were a decade ago, but there needs to be much more progress before the topic becomes a resource in treatment, say those in the field who are working to make that happen.
“Respecting the spiritual and religious beliefs of those who suffer from mental illness actually opens the way to greater meaning, support, even healing,” Nancy Kehoe, PhD, a psychologist and nun, writes in her book Wrestling with our Inner Angels: Faith, Mental Illness, and the Journey to Wholeness.
The reasons clinicians often shy away from doing so, she says in an interview, include an ambivalence about how much to explore, the therapist’s own religious history, and a concern that a client’s religiosity may be a symptom of their mental illness.
But increasingly, medical conferences, articles, and residency training programs are putting more focus on faith.
“Faith has to do with hope,” says Patricia Murphy, PhD, a chaplain, licensed clinical professional counselor, and assistant professor of religion, health and human values at Rush University in Chicago.“If clinicians can understand that religion can be a source of strength and positive self-esteem,” she adds, “then they’ll be able to help foster the knowledge that the divine is going to be there even in the darkest moments. That’s what a lot of people need.”
* * * * *
Printed as “Hope, Religion, Faith”, Fall 2011Tagged with: faith, fall 2011, meditation, spirituality
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: ROBIN L. FLANIGANHas 36 Articles
Robin L. Flanigan is an award-winning journalist whose work has appeared in People magazine, US Airways Magazine and other national and regional publications. She lives in Rochester, New York.
View the article here.
Nouwen Website - Out of the Depths
To give new hope. Out of the Depths trusts that those visiting their site will know you are loved, accepted and supported in your journey with mental health concerns - however that particular journey has been unfolding. One of their desires for this resource is for you to know that you are not alone in your journey, and that there are those in our churches who do care and who would like to be an encouragement to you as you go through your tough times and also as you experience the joys of life.
"Writing about the spiritual life is like making prints from negatives ... Often it is the dark forest that makes us speak about the open field. Frequently prison makes us think about freedom, hunger helps us to appreciate food, and war gives us words for peace. Not seldom are our vision of the future born out of the sufferings of the present and our hope for others out of our own despair. Only few 'happy endings' make us happy but often someone's careful and honest articulation of the ambiguities, uncertainties, and painful conditions of life gives us new hope. The paradox is indeed that new life is born out of the pains of the old." (Henri Nouwen)
Sermon - A Sermon of Truth About Depression
"The stigma felt especially daunting in the context of my profession: Pastors are supposed to be paradigms of perfection, to be endowed with the sort of faith that keeps them immune from something like mental illness." Kathy Hurt offers a sermon on mental illness. She stresses the importance of sharing your stories. "I will keep telling and retelling stories of my personal struggles with depression and suicide, keeping alive the hope that one day any traces of stigma and shame associated with mental illness will vanish. We will all be so much stronger then." Rev. Hurt also offers some helps when talking with someone with a mental illness. Read the sermon here.Be gentle with yourself. All of us are struggling and doing the best we can.
Be patient. Humans are incredibly complicated organisms, unpredictable even on our best days, and we will not always respond in the same way.
Be grateful. Many spiritual traditions urge cultivating a practice of gratitude, something as simple as finding three things each day, however small, to be thankful for. Gratitude can shift an entire world view toward greater trust, bit by bit.
Be vulnerable. We form our deepest connections with others not around our accomplishments or successes, but around our experiences of suffering. We bond when we share stories of those experiences with one another
Be kind. When we notice someone else, even for just a moment in a shared glance or holding open a door, we are lifted out of our own loneliness and a bit closer into the human community.
Visit the Book Section on Mental Health Ministries Website
Book - Fresh Hope: Living Well in Spite of a Mental Health Diagnosis
Available on Amazon.
Book - Finding Hope: Ways to See Life in a Brighter Light
Available on Amazon. Note: This item is only available from third-party sellers
Book - Toward a Theology of Psychological Disorder
Available on Amazon.
Sharing Your StoryWhen Mental Health Ministries started in 2001, there was not much attention given to addressing the stigma of mental illness in our faith communities. Since then there is increasing awareness of the important role of faith and spirituality in the treatment and recovery process. There is the recognition that faith communities are in a unique position to be caring congregations for persons living with a mental illness and those who care for them. When faith leaders and faith communities are educated about mental illness, they can be an important part of a support community by forming collaborative relationships with local mental health providers, advocacy groups and other community partners. We can learn from each other.
The It Worked For Us section of our website has two parts: What We Are Doing and Your Ideas. This is a way for faith communities to share what they are doing...what has worked and what the challenges have been. How did your ministry get started? Where did you find the support and encouragement to move forward? What resources did you find helpful?
You are invited and encouraged to share what is happening in your congregation, faith group or community to erase the stigma of mental illness and provide caring and compassionate support for persons affected by mental illness. You can contact Mental Health Ministries through the website or by e-mailing Susan at sgschroed@cox.net.
Rev. Barbara Myers shares about the Sidewalk Talk Listening Post:
The Sidewalk Talk Listening Post
Today, Sidewalk Talk has 700 volunteers world-wide in 19 cities around the globe, with more being added all the time. They have a website www.sidewalktalksf.com where people can sign up to be "listeners" and can be trained in an excellent on-line training.
When I explained to one man that we weren't selling anything or trying to convert anyone, he asked, "Then, why do you come? What's in it for you?" I said, "I have the satisfaction of knowing I am helping to make the world a friendlier place." There is something sacred about people having authentic conversation about the important situations of their lives. There is no small talk, no jockeying for relative position. Just sharing from one heart to another.
Rev. Barbara F. Meyers
Fremont, California
www.mpuuc.org/mhm/
Snippets from Susan
Planting Seeds of Hope in Rural Cambodia
Ten years ago, a friend of ours talked with her hair stylist about her village in Cambodia that she had fled in the 1970's. Nancy asked what the village might need. Her hair stylist said they needed one bicycle for the village. A shared bicycle would help take them to school, the temple, the clinic and the market. When friends heard the story, they donated funds for more bicycles. Over the next few years and trips to the village, the Cambodian Village Fund was founded providing school uniforms, English classes, a school and scholarships for girls to encourage them to continue their education. Like the parable of the mustard seed, a simple conversation led to a mission that continues to grow and thrive.My husband and I had the opportunity to be part of a 15-person team to visit Cambodia. In the village we spent time with the families and at the school. My first career before becoming a minister was as a Kindergarten teacher. I brought a large suitcase of toys and art supplies and organized activities to help our group interact with these delightful children.
Cambodia is primarily a Buddhist county. We had the opportunity to work with a wonderful monk who helps oversee the Cambodian Village Project. We learned much about the Buddhist faith. Some of the tenants of Buddhism are the acceptance of suffering, compassion for others, living in the present moment and a commitment to peace and a love of all people.
One thing that surprised me was how happy the people were even though they lacked so much of what we take for granted. The extended family lives together or nearby. They help and support each other. We visited the family of one of the scholarship girls whose father lost a leg from a land mine and is unable to work in the rice fields. The feeling of community and the acceptance of each person just as they are provides the villagers with a sense of belonging and connection. Isn't this something that we all long for? I came away feeling that in many ways these wonderful people were "richer" than many of us in what really counts.
The suffering of Cambodia has been deep.
From this suffering comes Great Compassion.
Great Compassion makes a peaceful Heart.
- A Peaceful Heart makes a Peaceful Person.
- A Peaceful Person makes a Peaceful Family.
- A Peaceful Family makes a Peaceful Community.
- A Peaceful Community makes a Peaceful Nation.
- A Peaceful Nation makes a Peaceful World.
Rev. Susan Gregg-Schroeder
Coordinator of Mental Health Ministries
www.MentalHealthMinistries.net
STAY CONNECTED:
DisAbility Ministries Committee of the United Methodist Church
P.O. Box 8041
Spokane, Washington 99203, United States
***
No comments:
Post a Comment