February 2, 2003

Ian Lawton

Epiphany 4     Mark 1:21-28

It would seem that organised religion is bad for your mental health. That is, religion which stifles free thought and questions, is bad for your health.

For example, studies have shown that mental illness rates among Jehovah's Witnesses far surpasses that of the population as a whole. In some ways this is little surprise. For a start, members are often recruited at vulnerable times in their life, often when they are struggling with emotional problems. Once inside the organisation, there is huge pressure to perform, to conform, to suppress questions and doubts. It is a system built on duty and guilt. Once a JW develops emotional problems they are actively encouraged to avoid seeking "worldly advice" either from secular books or professionals. Witnesses are encouraged to consult only their Elders, most of whom are poorly equipped to deal with most normal interpersonal relationship issues, let alone more serious neuroses and psychoses. The elder would likely tell the person that their struggle is either caused by sin or a demon. Just as the nature of the illness is in the supernatural world, so cure is found in supernatural demon possession.

However other studies have shown that spirituality, as opposed to religion, can have a positive effect on mental health. Prayer - as a means of calming the mind, making connections with emotions and centering yourself, as well as the freedom to change beliefs regularly and place events within a realistic worldview (in other words, find purpose in life) - all make for better mental health. On top of this, the level of support which some faith communities offer can be invaluable to good mental health. So, for the sake of your mental health, more spirit, less religion would seem the order of the day.

Over the coming weeks, we come in our gospel readings to a series of healing miracles. The first of these is the healing of a man described in the text as 'demon possessed'. It may well be that this was the only language the writer could find for a mental illness, or else it was the pattern of that world to stigmatise the person with a label. In coming weeks, we will read about healings of lepers and various other illnesses. No doubt as we examine these texts all sorts of issues will arise for us; Did they really happen as they are recorded? Can miracles still happen? Yet above all this, in the faces of those in our midst who are suffering, and in the light of our memorial service next Sunday, the far more profound question is: what is our community response to suffering? How does the life of Jesus, the light to all people which Candlemas points us, guide our response to suffering? It seems to me that two words - compassion and justice - capture the heart and mission of Jesus.

Let me read to you a statement my father wrote recently. It's a quote which draws so many threads of Jesus healing miracles together:

"I believe that at the heart of all true religion is a blending of compassion with justice. This impels us to reach beyond our closed circle of acquaintance and search for the mark of beauty and goodness in every human being. In this encounter we can discover within ourselves the quality of mercy and forgiveness that enlivens compassion and justice. You become my companion, sometimes my intimate. At that moment, your different culture or social status or religion enhances my own awareness of my humanity. Seeing you, touching you, knowing you, links me with you and brings me into the orbit of your pain and disadvantage. I cannot presume to make your life better or to choose for you, but I can set my heart to model a forgiveness and mercy that reach even to "the
enemy". And then, I will see you with new vision - spirit begins to yearn for spirit. Our difference enhances our awareness that what we share is more profound than the human boundaries set by culture, sect or gender. Forgiveness and mercy are so often another's gift to me that I affirm with all my being this human quality of divine compassion and justice."

Jesus' interaction with people was radical. It was one of the most threatening of all his acts as he mixed with people who were sinners and unclean. They must have been. That's why society told them they were sick. Jesus mixed with them, touched them, treated them with dignity, affirmed that they were more than their condition, as people worth his time.

Jesus interaction with people was political, as he challenged the very systems of the day with their separation and oppression of people who were different. Healings in the text were always more than physical. They were also challenges to the religious and political leadership of the day.

Jesus interaction with people was compassionate. He made this contact with people his priority. He gave to the point of exhaustion to people in need. He wept with them and walked with them the road to wholeness. He never prescribed religion, but always fostered spirit.

So what do we say to those who suffer physical and mental illness and their carers and families? Justice and compassion. We journey together, refusing to see people as solely their conditions, refusing to stigmatise and stereotype. We walk together the road to wholeness, which will be the way to growth in spirit, even if the physical or mental condition is a chronic or terminal one. We will inspire courage, and be inspired by courage, that even death is not the final word. The struggle and the qualities it instils are more powerful than death. We walk alongside, and we advocate alongside people, speaking out when mental health policies are inadequate, when people are being lost in a system which - at best - disguises problems.

Our justice and our compassion are interconnected. One guides the other. Like Jesus we feel the pain. Like Jesus we work for wholeness and change. We will foster the spirit which makes the connections and adds purpose in life, and refuse stigmas and labels which trap people. We will foster free thought and questions which open up possibilities, and refuse dogmas which limit possibilities.