Casserole-worthy Struggles
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; 1 Samuel 3:1-21; Acts 2:37-47; Luke 21:5-19
Today’s Reflection
The Psalms appointed for today provide us a study in contrasts. In Psalm 88, we hear strong notes of desperation and hopelessness—one of many songs of lament included amongst the Psalter. But then Psalm 91 comes across as a song of encouragement—a prayer admonishing the one addressed that God will remain with them, no matter what troubles may be encountered. Then we find in Psalm 92 a song of thankfulness, acknowledging God’s steadfast presence through all things, the good and the not-so-good times, even in the downright bad times. This is one of the things I love most about the Psalms—they capture so beautifully and so accurately the wide array of moods and states of mind we will experience throughout our lives.
We all go through different moods and states of mind. Many things factor into how we feel mentally, emotionally, and physically on a given day. Some of how we feel is situational—what is happening in the world around us—whether in our home, our social life, our work life, or out in our community and the wider world.
During the recent global Covid-19 pandemic, people experienced the stresses of isolation, changes in work-life balance, not to mention the traumas of severe illness and even the death of loved ones. Then, over this past year, we here at Saint Stephen’s experienced gun violence in our church building, with the ensuing, ongoing trauma and all the ways this trauma impacts our daily lives. Living in a world of constantly changing conditions takes its own toll, and each of us will be impacted in distinctive ways. Going through these two very different kinds of trauma, we are necessarily changed on some levels in how we see ourselves, our world, and how we respond to the people and situations we encounter moving forward.
But not everything about our emotional and mental state is explained by outside, situational factors. Our internal physiology also should be considered. Mental health can also be influenced through experiencing trauma at some point in life (even long ago), or through our genetic predisposition, or due to changes in brain function (whether permanent or temporary) due to injury, illness, aging, and so on.
As a priest, I wonder sometimes how all the above—these environmental and physiological factors—interact with and influence how a person experiences a sense of connection with God. Recently, I read a book called Darkness is My Only Companion: A Christian Response to Mental Illness by Katherine Greene-McCreight, an Episcopal priest and theologian affiliated with Yale Divinity School. Greene-McCreight found herself dealing first with post-partum depression and later was diagnosed as having bipolar disorder, for which she has been hospitalized on occasion and continues treatment for through both medication and talk therapy. So, all that is to say, she’s not writing about the intersection of mental health and Christian faith from some abstract, theological perspective—this is her life, and as such her life has informed her vocations as priest and theologian. She titled her book Darkness in My Only Companion inspired by these lines from Psalm 88 we read today:
But as for me, O Lord, I cry to you for help;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
Lord, why have you rejected me?
why have you hidden your face from me?
Ever since my youth, I have been wretched and at the point of death;
I have borne your terrors with a troubled mind.
Your blazing anger has swept over me;
your terrors have destroyed me;
They surround me all day long like a flood;
they encompass me on every side.
My friend and my neighbor you have put away from me,
and darkness is my only companion. (Psalm 88: 14-19)
As Steve Moore, a parishioner here at Saint Stephen’s has said regarding both substance use issues and mental health issues, these are the life circumstances for which people are not usually offering to bring over a casserole—or any of the other usual ways we show tangible support for people who are struggling with their physical health. What I know of this subject comes from firsthand experience over the years of knowing and supporting those who experience life with mental illness. Knowing and supporting them has given me a special appreciation for the challenges they face—and for the challenge for us in the church to acknowledge what is often treated as shameful both in the church and in the wider culture.
Psalm 88 captures so well that sense of isolation and not being understood that are experienced by people in a number of challenging life situations—whether due to grieving a loved one, facing a life-threatening physical illness, being socially ostracized, or dealing with depression or another mental health challenge. But we also find in Psalms 91 a clear reminder of the hope and comfort that God holds out to us all, especially at those times when the light of hope is shining only very dimly somewhere out there in the distance:
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High,
abides under the shadow of the Almighty.
He shall say to the Lord,
“You are my refuge and my stronghold,
my God in whom I put my trust.”
He shall deliver you from the snare of the hunter
and from the deadly pestilence.
He shall cover you with his pinions,
and you shall find refuge under his wings;
his faithfulness shall be a shield and buckler.
For he shall give his angels charge over you,
to keep you in all your ways.
They shall bear you in their hands,
lest you dash your foot against a stone. (Psalm 91: 1-4, 11-12)
Becky+
Questions for Self-Reflection
Which lines of Psalm 88 resonate most with you? What challenging time in life does this Psalm bring to mind for you? Which lines from Psalm 91 do you find most comforting?
Daily Challenge
Consider reading Katherine Greene-McCreight’s book Darkness is My Only Companion: A Christian Response to Mental Illness. Or consider reading Christian ethicist and theologian Stanley Hauerwas’ book, Hannah’s Child: A Theologian’s Memoir, which includes his reflections on being married to a spouse who struggled with mental illness.