World Mental Health Day

It was World Mental Health Day yesterday.  It is strange to think that although society has moved on that there is still a stigma attached to suffering from a mental illness.  Many of us will suffer from a mental health problem at some stage in our lifetime.  Current statistics say that 1 in 4 of us will do so in the course of a year.[1]  There are many factors that affect our ability to cope, sometimes things beyond our control.  Mental health problems may by brought on by a stressful life event, such as, trauma, bereavement, or divorce, or a genetic predisposition towards mental illness, or may comes out of the blue with no apparent cause often bringing with it confusion and distress. To be diagnosed with a mental illness can be a frightening and bewildering experience.  Mental health problems are not always obvious in the same way perhaps a broken leg would be and can easily go unnoticed and hidden. Estimates are that 450 million people worldwide have a mental health problem.[2]  Whilst this is a large number those who suffer often feel isolated, alone. When suffering from a mental illness those have been at the centre of church activity often gravitate to the edges of church activity as the become ill, and those who have had little church contact who are ill and may want to explore faith, find it difficult to enter even the fringes of church life.

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Recent Government cuts to funding has meant that the mental heath charity, MIND, were forced to close its own drop-in centre facilities which had been a great source of comfort and help to many.  One of the things we have done in Burton was to invite the local Mind clients to come and join us at our weekly drop- in.  We do not provide counseling or medical advice but we can offer a non-judgemental ‘listening ear’, and signposting to other services if the need arises.  A year on relationships and trust are growing and we are seeing around 40 people dropping in on our Wednesday sessions, with some occasionally worshiping with us on a Sunday morning.   The Church is called to share the love of God (Mat 28:16-20) and to ‘love your neighbour as yourself’ (Mat 22:39) this includes extending friendship, and indeed love, to those who have been stigmatized and shunned by society.  According to the Mental Health Foundation, 

There is no single definition of the concept of recovery for people with mental health problems, but the guiding principle is hope – the belief that it is possible for someone to regain a meaningful life, despite serious mental illness. Recovery is often referred to as a process, outlook, vision, conceptual framework or guiding principle.[3]

The Christian message is full hope.  This is what we offer and yet we so often keep the gospel all to ourselves.  The word that best describes the Old Testament's understanding of health is Shalom which is often translated as ‘peace’ but in its wider meaning ‘completeness’, ‘wholeness’, ‘well-being’, ‘soundness’, ‘harmony’, or ‘prosperity’.  Good health then is about wholeness of mind, body, and spirit that requires a holistic approach that looks at the whole of a person.  Why is there so much tension between the psychiatric professions and the church when we want the same result?  To see people on the road to recovery, what ever that looks like.  Whilst psychology and the Church have different methodologies, reflected in their own language, for a fully holistic approach to mental health there is a need to work together for the sake of those we are trying to help.  


For true wholeness the spirituality of a person needs to be taken into consideration without this understand and acknowledgement those with mental health problems will continue to be misunderstood.  Some mental heath professionals struggle with the topic of spirituality thinking it not to be scientific enough and too akin to religion.[4]  Spirituality, however, is a characteristic of us all whether we consider ourselves to hold religious beliefs or not.  Spirituality is our outward expression of what is going on inside as we relate to the world we live in.  Spirituality is not a specifically religious concept although formal religion is one way that it is expressed.  The church has a role to play in helping those with mental health problems to explore their own spirituality and to find their own voice in their search for recovery.  Both the Church and mental health professionals have much to learn from each other’s specialist fields as we care for those with mental health problems.  Both have made mistakes in caring for those who are already struggling without adding to their problems.  It is time to work together for the sake of those we are trying to help.  

On top of the world

I am enjoying some down time at the moment with my hubby.  We visited Tamworth Castle the other day.  I couldn't help but think that the world looks so much different when you are looking down on it.  Our own perspective of life and its twists and turns is often different to that of God's.  We fail to see the bigger picture.  It is not always easy to trust but yet God asks us to put our hand in His...   

Isaiah 55: 8-12 (NIV)

8“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
⁹ “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.
¹⁰ As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
¹¹ so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
¹² You will go out in joy
    and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
    will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
    will clap their hands.   


I like to sing (particularly when no-one is listening).  In the words of Karen Carpenter... 'I'm on top of the world lookin' down on creation and the only explanation I can find is the love that I've found ever since you've been around, your loves put me at the top of the world...'  The love that John and I have makes life worth living for me.  I am blessed with the love of a good husband who keeps me sane in an increasingly mad world and keeps me grounded when my head drifts towards the clouds.  God can seem so distant sometimes and yet he remains a constant.  His love is constant no matter how far we stray or try and run away from Him.  God's love is all around us.  His joy and peace is there to be found.  Creation sings proclaiming these things.  I would encourage you to try look at things from a different perspective today...

You are There

You are in the crowded room,

You find me there

I cannot flee from you,

I cannot hide from you.

You are there.

You are in the darkness,

You are in the light.

When I cannot see you,

When I cannot sleep at night,

You are there.

I feel your presence,

I feel your tender touch.

Forgive me for the rush,

Forgive me for not finding time,

You are there.

For I love you beyond all measure,

For you are everything I need,

In the dead of night,

In the cool summer breeze,

You are there.

As I travel down this road,

As I place my hand in yours

Help me to trust your leading,

Help me to realize.

You are always there.

Revd Jo Regan
 

A fun night in!

Pickle and Cyberspace

I have been busy of late updating my church website.  I am sure I have got a lot to learn about such things.  Whilst I am not a technophobe I do get rather frustrated by technology and in particular computers.  They are fine as long as they are working but I often seen to get in a pickle with them.  My normal course of action is to ask my husband, John, to sort out any issues and then if he really can't fix it to bite the bullet and sort it out myself.  This worked really well until I ditched the windows based operating system laptop, invested in an Apple Mac book, and started fiddling around with Internet templates, not to mention Facebook, Blogger, and Twitter, all of which he knows little about.  Today I picked someone's brains about the website.  - Please understand this is a metaphor and I am not Hannibal Lecter and eat people's brains although I do admit to once eating Brain's Faggots (remember them?)  As I am writing this I am wondering if I should be worried about their kind invitation to a meal and whether they will be serving faggots.  For my American readers I ought to say that faggots are a traditional English meal made from meat offcuts and offal that use to be very popular.  

On the subject of food I finished off a jar of Branston Pickle today.  I have previously mentioned earlier that whilst I was at college I would often sit eating Marmite on wheat-free toast wondering where God was calling me to pastor a church.  Burton upon Trent is the home of real ale, Marmite (made from the yeast extract from the brewing process), and Branston Pickle!  If you want to know more about the history of Burton as a brewing town have a look at the Burton and South West Derbyshire Campaign for Real Ales website.  I would also keep a bottle of Branston Pickle on hand and if I wasn't eating Marmite on my toast I would be eating pickle on my cheese and rice-cakes!  You may have worked out by now that I have a wheat intolerance hence the need for taste toppings.  Branston Pickle was made in Branston which is a small suburb of Burton from 1922 until 2004 when the factory relocated to Bury St Edmund's, Suffolk.  I am sure God was having a laugh with me as I was searching for an answer to my prayer as to where he was calling me to.  When we are looking for direction as to where God is leading us there are often clues along the way and confirmation that we are on the right path.  We just need to open our eyes and see them.  In case you are wondering no, I don't like real ale, I am more a West Country cider girl. 

 

A couple of days ago I even managed to use Twitter correctly.  I have had an account for a few years but could never get to grips with it.  I have a tendency to use my iPhone (I am such an Apple junkie - but at least they are healthy!)  for social networking which is fine as long as the app is easy to understand if not I get frustrated and put things on the bottom of my to do list.  One of the big mistakes I made with Twitter was to follow too many people.  Having culled those I follow, hopefully it wasn't painful, I added a few extra ones which has a knock on effect of them sometimes choosing to follow you.  (It seems Twitter is just one big game of follow-my-leader.)  It amused me somewhat that 'Russel Brand Fans' are now following me.  Surely they should, by their nature, be following Russel?  It made me laugh anyway!  Following people is all well and good as long as they are not lost or misguided.  Whilst I may follow people on Twitter I choose to take my lead in life from God.  I am one of His many followers.
             

Earlier today my Mac decided to black screen on me even though it was powered up and I nearly didn't blog again.  This is the first time in three years that it has thrown a tantrum so it has done well really.  I really do feel called to write much more than I have done of late and not be put off by the technological glitches.  I thank God for friends who have encouraged me to continue.  Today's blog has been a bit of a ramble but then spirituality is a ramble to. Experience tells me I draw strength from God in the hard times and through adversity.  Life can seem a pickle and difficult to work out but as we ramble through the thorn bushes of life it is important to smell the roses and enjoy the blackberries on the way.  Branston Pickle and Marmite may not be your call but pause for thought and you will see the path God has made for you.                             

        

Mary Magdalene John 20:1-18

 

 “He’s alive!  He’s alive!  I have seen him!  I have seen the Lord!  He is alive I tell you!  Really, He’s alive!  Bear with me, I’m out of breath, sorry I just have to tell everyone…  He’s alive!  I have seen the Lord!  You don’t believe me do you?  These three days have been so strange.  I’m Mary by the way, hi.

I live in Magdala the little village down the road by the sea.  I say I live there but actually I’ve been following Jesus and the disciples around for months now.  I so loved, that man.  I still love him.  He was so good to me.  I have had a bit of a hard life really.  Not the normal life you know.  I had these ‘things’ inside of me.  Seven of them and they kept tormenting me day and night.  They wouldn’t shut up or leave me alone.  I wasn’t nice to be around.  I tried to get better and sort myself out but I only seemed to get worse.  Then, I met Jesus.  I knew there was something different about him straight away.  It was in his eyes.  I couldn’t look at him properly at first he was too, too well, hmmm.  He looked at me as if he knew everything about me.  Where I had been.  What I had been up to.  How I had got into that state.  He knew.  I didn’t have to say.  I was so ashamed I really didn’t want to look at him.  Then he prayed for me.  It was as if all the shutters had been lifted from the windows of my soul and I felt whole again.  The torment of the demons was no more.  He healed me.  I was just well, normal again.  I owe my life to him. I love him so much.  I couldn’t believe he died.

Friday was such an awful day, even the sky turned black.  I can’t believe they executed him, hung him on a cross for all to see his pain and agony.  They let that Barabbas off and yet they killed my Jesus.  I was there you know, with his mum.  She was so distraught.  We cried and cried and cried until we had no tears left and we were exhausted.  He was alone on the cross; there was nothing we could do.  He shouted out, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’  People were taunting him to come off the cross and save himself.  But he didn’t, he died.  I know he died.  I saw the soldier stick the spear in his side and watched the blood and water come out.

I was up early this morning.  I couldn’t sleep with all that had gone on so I went to find Jesus’ body.  I took the best perfume I could find to go and anoint him.  I know Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea had already anointed his body and wrapped it in strips of linen but, well, you know what men are like at such things.  I wanted to go and do a proper job as a sign of my love.  He was my Lord after all.  I took my two friends with me, Mary and Salome so they could help me roll the stone from the entrance to the tomb. It was dark when we got there.  It’s an eerie place at the best of times.  When we reached the tomb, it was so strange, the stone had already been rolled back.  I went straight in and, no Jesus, he wasn’t there.  I thought someone must have taken him.  Where was his body?  We needed to anoint him properly?  I ran off to find help.  I don’t know what the other two were doing.  I didn’t stop to ask.  I had to get help.  I ran into Simon Peter and another of the disciples who were on their way to the tomb.  I said, ‘They have taken the Lord, and we don’t know where they have taken him!’ We all ran back to the tomb Simon Peter went off like a rocket.  I couldn’t keep up. 

When they had seen with their own eyes that Jesus was missing the disciples went back to tell the rest.  I didn’t know what to do.  I was so upset.  I just stood there outside the tomb and cried my eyes out again.  Who would do this?  As I was pouring my soul out to God searching for an answer these two men appeared, shinning before me.  They were angels.  I know they were messengers from God; they had to be.  He had heard my cry.  They asked me, ‘Why are you crying?’  So I told them straight, they have taken my Lord away and that I didn’t know what they had done with his body.  Something made me turn around at this point and there was another man there.  The gardener, I think, well I thought he was.  He said, 'Women, why are you crying and who are you looking for?’  ‘Sir’, I said, I feel such a fool now, but I didn’t know.  ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.’  He looked at me as if he new everything about me and said, ‘Mary.’  It was my ‘Rabboni’, my teacher; it was Jesus who was looking into my very soul.  I knew those eyes after all, but I recognized his voice first.  I wanted to hug him forever, but he told me to let go and not to cling to him.  He told me I had to let him go as he had not gone to his Father yet.  So I did.  I didn’t want to but I did.  I felt so honoured that he had come to see me before he had even gone up to heaven to see his Father.  Parting was so hard but, I had to tell the others, I had to tell everyone.  I had to tell you.  He’s alive!  Jesus he is alive!”