Mindstorms

Homily at St Dyfrig’s and St Mary Magdalene for the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B.

God has the power to calm the storms – but sometimes he prefers to lead us through them.

The storms I speak of today are the storms of the mind. Over the last few years it’s become more acceptable to speak about mental health. Even key members of the Royal Family have put their Heads Together to encourage this conversation.

You’ve already done one really important thing which helps our mental balance: you’re here. Last year, a study found that more than eight out of 10 people who go to a place of worship at least once a week reported being happy. Only 50% of those who never attended worship claimed happiness.

The Church has other spiritual tools which help, too. It might take a while to get an appointment to see a doctor or a counsellor, but I am available every Sunday in the confessional without needing an appointment. If there’s something troubling you, even if it’s not strictly a question of sin, you can come and talk to me. Then there’s the Sacrament of Anointing the Sick. It’s not only for old age or physical conditions like cancer – it’s a prayer to restore health for any Catholic whose lifestyle is seriously impaired by some affliction. When I was an undergraduate, I spent some months being burdened by very heavy stress headaches. I wasn’t sure if I qualified, but when I approached my University chaplain, he assured me that it did, and anointed me there and then.

Serious mental illness affects over 1 in 20 people – it’s a common illness, but we don’t like to talk much about it. And nearly half of us will have to deal with some type of psychological disorder during our lifetime. Schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, clinical depression – we are no longer afraid to use these and similar words in our national conversations. But it takes courage to admit that one of these labels applies to someone we love, or even ourself.

Labels are always a blessing and a curse at the same time. They help when they offer short cuts to finding others who have found ways to cope, or therapies which offer real relief. There’s no more shame in taking an antidepressant than in taking insulin. But labels can get in the way when they tempt us to reduce a person to a diagnosis. So let’s resist the temptation to ever speak of a ‘schizophrenic’ or a ‘depressive’ – let us always acknowledge the presence of a person along with whatever ails them.

If you’ve never experienced a serious mental illness, it’s hard to understand what such illnesses can do, or how it can totally disrupt a person’s life. I once took part in a Mental Health First Aid training course, very valuable if you can access one. To help us understand something of what it was like to live with schizophrenia, the trainer came up and whispered random words loudly in our ears while we tried to hold everyday conversations.

An American deacon who took part in a similar course was given basic exercises to do, such as finding words or number sequences. He said it was incredibly hard to concentrate. Some of the students were really rattled by how much this impeded their usual thought processes – one couldn’t even recall who was President.

It’s no wonder that a person with a mental illness can, at times, be difficult to be around or that their behaviour can be irrational and frightening. 

Try living with uncontrollable voices in your head – try living with uncontrollable anxieties and racing thoughts that fly through your mind like jets – try living with a deep dark irrational, relentless depression that makes you think you are unlovable and the world would be better off without you. Imagine living in a head where suicide is not seen as a choice, but as an inevitable fate.

If that’s you, talk to someone. Don’t suffer alone. If you need urgent help, you can call the Samaritans or ask for an urgent appointment with me.

So, what should we, as Christians, as members of the Catholic Church, do about this?

First of all, let’s never lose sight that Christ is with us. Even when the storm is at its worst, Our Lord is on board – even when he seems to be sleeping soundly.

Saint John Paul II reminds us that ‘Christ took all human suffering on himself, even mental illness. Yes, even this affliction, which perhaps seems the most absurd and incomprehensible, configures the sick person to Christ and gives him a share in his redeeming passion. Whoever suffers from mental illness “always” bears God’s image and likeness.’

Second, let’s not be afraid to ask for help when we need it. Is someone going to judge you for admitting you need help? Of course they will – they will judge you to be brave and courageous. They will not condemn you.

Third, let’s be ready to listen whenever a family member or friend has an urgent need to speak with us. This might feel scary. What if the other person uses the ‘S’ word? I still remember the first time, as a seminarian, that a hospital patient disclosed his suicidal thoughts to me. I needed a good long conversation with one of the seminary staff that night, to calm the storm of responsibility it stirred up within me. But be at peace. The experts assure us that encouraging someone to share such thoughts is not going to encourage them to take their own life, and in fact such a conversation can be a strong help to help the afflicted person find fresh hope.

God set limits to Job’s Tempest, and in the end Christ arose and commanded the waters of the Galilee to be still. Let’s hold on to hope. One day God will make all creation new. Until then, God is walking with us – so let us support one another.


This homily was adapted in large part from one published by Deacon Peter Shoener, Founder of the (USA) Association of Catholic Mental Health Ministers.

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