Continuing our ‘Voices’ theme……with Phil and Beverley
A sermon for World Mental Health Day
Reading: Psalm 40:1-11; 12-17
Phil:
“You have done many things for us, O Lord our God,” we just heard the psalmist, possibly King David, say. He continues “There is no one like you. You have made many wonderful plans for us.” And, of course, we would endorse that sentiment. For we believe that God’s goodness endures; that Love will win; that, in the words of the great 15th century nun – Julian of Norwich – ‘all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well’. Yet whilst we might believe in our hearts that God loves us, whilst we might believe that we are journeying towards a day when there will be no more suffering, no more pain, no more tears…we have not arrived there yet. Last Sunday evening, many of us were brought to tears or anger as we heard just a little of the hardships that many refugees and asylum seekers experience and all of us here know that life can sometimes be tough, unrelenting, overwhelming. We know what it is to feel fear, anguish or despair – emotions that are acknowledged throughout scripture, perhaps particularly in the psalms. Just a few verses after declaring how many wonderful plans God has for us, the psalmist goes on to declare, “I am surrounded by many troubles— too many to count! Save me Lord! Help me now!”
King David, like Elijah, Hannah and many other characters in the Bible, suffered spells of deep depression and may well have experienced, what we would term today, periods of mental illness. This is not something to be laughed at or dismissed; nor does it mean that their experiences of God weren’t real. For mental illness is something that affects many people – perhaps as many as one in three of us. There will be many people here this morning, myself included, who have experienced a time or times of poor mental health and this is nothing to be ashamed of or silenced.
Yesterday was “World Mental Health Day “ and this year, the focus is on raising awareness of what we can do to ensure that people with mental health problems can live with dignity. Or, as we might put it here, that people with mental health problems are no less valued, no less welcomed here, no less children of God.
This morning, we will be reflecting on some of the psalms as we consider the ways in which we can welcome, love and support those affected by the consequence of mental health problems in this church and in our community. But first we ask God to ‘inspire the hopeless, enfold the friendless; to hold us when we’re tired of living, teach us to accept God’s giving’ as we sing the an amended version of the hymn ‘All Through the Night’.
Hymn 2 All Through the Night
Truth of Jesus, light our darkness
All through the night
Lord of love, transform our weakness
All through the night
Touch our pain and heal our sorrow
Build in us your new tomorrow
Reconcile us with forgiveness
All through the night
Living spirit, fill the stillness
All through the night
Lord of love, embrace the helpless
All through the night
Stressed, confused, alone or grieving
Give us grace to keep believing
Holding onto love and kindness
All through the night
God of joy inspire the hopeless
All through the night
Lord of love, enfold the friendless
All through the night
Hold us when we’re tired of living
Teach us to accept your giving
Though we fail, your love is endless
All through the night.
Beverley:
I wrote those words to the melody of Ar Hyd y Nos as a result of something that happened in my own life – the death of my mother and the breakdown of my marriage put me in a place of dark despair. With the love and kindness of friends, family and strangers – and with God’s help – eventually the darkness lifted – but that’s not the case for everyone – stress, traumas and tragedies affect us in different ways and can descend into deep depression. And that experience made me realise how close I had come to being “tipped over the edge”. There were times when God seemed to be so far away – it was impossible to pray, except to say through the tears “Where are you? – please help me”. Psalm 22 opens with a similar cry of utter desolation.
1 My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? 2 O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest.
There are times when we all long for a safe haven. For the past fourteen years I’ve been closely involved in the running of a Mental Health Project called Growing Space – based in the tranquil gardens of Tredegar House in Newport in Gwent. Through interaction with the beauty of the natural world and the support of a fine team of committed professionals – in the gardens and in the creative environment of the carpentry workshop and the IT suite, people find therapy, training and perhaps the possibility of healing. It’s one of the many charities all over the country that help people find a safe place in which to deal with life.
A few years ago I made a radio programme about Growing Space – listening to individual stories taught me a great deal about the feelings of shame, fear and desperation that a mental health problem can bring. So many phrases that I heard come back to me – about “years of feeling numb” ; “life feeling black”; “utter hopelessness”; questions like “Why am I here? – when I have no interest in life whatsoever- when I just wake up in the morning wondering how I’m going to get through the day? – even on a lovely sunny day, when other people are smiling and getting on with living – why don’t I feel part of the world?” And there was this admission “ When you’re that low and that empty – to take away the pain, you feel like ending it all.” That pain is not confined to the individual – partners, parents and children are affected too – their lives turned upside down by the strangeness of unexpected reactions from someone they love; the disappointment of hopes not fulfilled or the endless toll of coping with prolonged illness – all need help and support.
Phil:
Reading the Psalms or Job or Jeremiah we come to realize that we’re not alone – throughout history, countless women, men and children have known similar pain, similar feelings of desolation. Those words of abandonment that we heard from Psalm 22 take on an even greater significance when we read in the New Testament that Jesus uttered them from the cross. That cry echoes the despair of every man and woman in the world – we know that Jesus suffered too, that he truly understands and even in the silence – even when we can’t feel him close by – God is with us. The 23rd Psalm assures us that God walks with us down every path – “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, He lets me rest in green pastures and leads me to pools of fresh water. He gives me strength and guides me down the right paths.” We remain seated as we sing a modern version of this psalm…
Hymn: The Lord’s My Shepherd – Stuart Townsend
Beverley:
So we are told that “God’s goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our life” – and yet – sometimes that sense of reassurance takes a long time to become real. In that 23rd Psalm the writer also talks about walking in the ”valley of the shadow of death” – That could be an apt description of the bleakness of the lives of many people with mental health problems. Part of that darkness is the sense of rejection – our clients at Growing Space talk of the stigma that still exists in society – they often feel that they are being ”pushed away” – “not being listened to” – acquaintances avoid you and walk on the other side of the road – employers find reasons not to give you work. When you are “labelled”, fear builds barriers that only add to the sense of shame and isolation.
A friend of mine told me about a woman she knew – she had been the life and soul of their church fellowship – helping in Sunday School, at church teas, arranging the flowers, sharing evenings with church friends – always there – always ready with a cheery word. Later in life she had a mental breakdown and went into hospital for treatment. When she eventually came back, all seemed to be the same on the surface and after a few months my friend invited her to tea. She was so grateful – she said “Since I’ve come out of hospital -you’re the only person in Church who’s asked me into their home. I think they’re all afraid of me “.
In his book ,reflecting on his own struggles with bi-polar disorder, the Rev. John Colwell writes about the dilemma with which some faith communities wrestle – the dilemma that – as a Christian – it is still possible to suffer from mental illness – sometimes it’s seen only as a spiritual problem that must be solved – rather than a lifelong challenge, to be lived with and understood. That understanding is so important – acceptance by family and friends, employers, the church and the wider society that mental illness is no different from physical illness – we do not need to be ashamed.
Phil:
We can be honest with God – without feeling any shame, we can come to God with our confusion, our disillusionment and despair. For God knows what it is to struggle as a human. God knows what it is to weep over lost loved ones; to get angry over injustice; to ask for an easier path; to cry out in pain and grief.
Beverley:
Understandably we often pray for the illness, the problem, the pain to be taken away- but healing takes many different forms. Mark’s Gospel tells us that when Jesus was crucified – there on the cross he cried out those same words from Psalm 22 – “ Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani? – My God, my God. Why have you forsaken me?” Jesus’ cry of despair on the cross wasn’t the end of the story. After the resurrection, when he appeared to the disciples, the marks of the nails were still there on his hands and feet – the reality of that pain had not been wiped away – but the suffering, the darkness and the silence were not the last word. There is the possibility of recovery of hope, restoring of love – even “joy in the morning”.
Our own personal burden may not be mental illness – there are many life experiences that take away our equilibrium and send us into a state of doubt and anxiety about the future. But despair and desolation can be transformed into renewed hope and trust. In Psalm 22 that cry of anguish, in the end, turns into a song of praise.
I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you: 23 You who love the Lord, praise him! All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him; stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel! 24 For he did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; he did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him.
Those words of the Psalmist were true then and they are true now
Love, acceptance and gentle reassurance can lead to ways of coping, of recovering a sense of self. Sometimes we can’t do it for ourselves – we need help from those around us and we need the courage to ask for that help. Let’s make sure that we value each other for whom we really are – that we see beyond the stigma and the labels – that we don’t turn away with fear or indifference but embrace with love and understanding.
Jesus –“the wounded healer” is the one who understands best of all. He is there with us. As the Psalmist says “The Lord is good, His love is eternal and his faithfulness lasts forever.” Amen.