The Christian Response to Mental Illness

This is a touchy subject. Opinions are as numerous as denominations. I have personally experienced a few faith approaches that made things worse. I can't say for sure when I first began exhibiting mental  illness. I became suicidal in high school. I kept my mouth shut except for one friend (and it was because she feared for my life. We would all do well with such friends.) and it got back to my parents. I played it off as a joke and stayed out of the psychiatrist's office. But it wasn't a joke. I felt that way.

I got got caught up in a bible study group apart from my childhood church in which I never heard a sermon on the topic. This bible study group  was lead by young 20-year-old somethings with no formal training and a pastor of  large charismatic church who came to help get it up and running. I don't remember who invited me, but it was very different from what I was used to and as a sort of rebellious teen I decided to stick around.

The pastor was totally into demonology. Something  new and crazy sounding. I knew nothing about it so I stuck around to learn what it was all about. Basically  there was a Devil's henchman (demon) for  everything bad in the world when it came to people. He pulled out a few bible  verses to back his theology  and began telling us we should come forward for deliverance for the sins he began listing. Among them was depression. No faithful Christian was ever depressed. So, I went up to have the demon of depression kicked out. The only problem, I felt the same. Then he said if you weren't free, then you wanted whatever you had. The deepening despondency drove  me to leave. Obviously that wasn't the answer. If it was, I was toast.

I tried another church. I stayed a couple of years before I admitted I had a mental illness, though I did not call it that at the time. I just knew something was wrong and I figured God was not pleased. The prescriptions were to read the bible more  and pray harder. There was the demon thing by a couple, but the main thing I heard was that I was sinning by being depressed and those who committed suicide went straight to hell. I tried the "cures" but I ended up faking it for a while, then another pastor came who was so condemning of many things, even Christmas trees were evil. I proudly announced that I had one and left the church.

If I hadn't had a child, I would have never gone to church again. But I needed to find a sane church that would help and accept me, and I finally found it at South-Broadland Presbyterian Church. By then I had finally gone to see a psychiatrist because I was suicidal and the thought of doing that and leaving behind a four-year-old with that legacy was too much to bear. That is when I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. It was that because I would have times of the opposite feelings. High energy, extreme irritability, hearing voices and other symptoms. Then I would crash into deep depression.

I began with the pastor who showed compassion and wanted to help anyway he could. The pastor we have now gets it entirely and is a stalwart source of help and mercy. No demons, no extra prayer assignments, though some scriptures designed to help lift me have been suggested. No accusations of not having enough faith, no sinning because of it.  In fact the last  hospital stay, she came twice to visit me and brought comfort, encouragement, understanding, hope, acceptance, and prayer.

I am still battling but with an understanding and loving family, a church that is sensible and sane, and a pastor who doesn't make up theology, but teaches based on the bible and who has been to seminary for a foundation to pastor a church. I  have hope  even when things don't look or feel good.

At the end of each service she says, "God is good all the time." And the congregants respond, "And all the time  God is good." And he is. I am here alive despite all the odds against me and all the condemnation over the years. I honestly know some meant well, but for some their right is wrong. God is good. He  kept me safe and guarded me during some of the darkest times of my life. I can praise him even when low because of his many unlisted blessings to me over the years.

I hope the whole of Christendom will one day treat those with mental illness as God would have them treat them, with love, compassion, understanding, and peaceful, gentle words of hope. And an invitation to have dinner with Jesus in his heavenly kingdom, where there will be many mentally ill who were left to fend for themselves on the mean streets. Find a way to help at least one person, if only to be a steadfast friend  who has the patience and compassion to go the distance. The reward is worth it.