An Open Letter to My Mental Illness

            I suffer from a mental illness. At times, it can be crippling and debilitating. I just some time in the hospital dealing with my illness. One of the doctors knew I was a divinity student and Christian minister and asked me as he was treating me, “Have you lost your faith?” I held back tears as I said that no, I hadn’t lost my faith, but I was acutely aware that perhaps that wasn’t always the case for every patient that doctor saw.

            How odd of God to call a people to Christian ministry, but maybe God is a little crazy. Actually, God must be crazy, how odd of God to call humanity to be better and more in tune with God’s self. But God being crazy is precisely what makes God identifiable to some. God is just crazy enough to be real, and frankly some of us need a crazy God to keep us sane. Some of us facing mental health issues need to roll away the stone of mental illness and claim the resurrecting power of vulnerability and authenticity.

            I’m hoping people of faith will read this and be honest with themselves, their families, friends and places of worship that mental illness is scary, but God is a big God. God hung the earth upon the waters, and if the lilies can be cared for, if God’s eye is on the sparrow, then what have we to fret? Certainly it is easier said than done but perhaps we are to a point where we must throw everything we have at mental illness, including the God we serve, because God is a powerful ally.

            I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t seek treatment, medication, or therapy, it’s actually quite the opposite. By the grace of God we are given these tools to fight mental illness. What I am suggesting is we claim the promise made in scripture that God would never leave us or forsake us. Regardless of whether we are in the bowels of mental illness or in a hospital room, regardless of whether we’ve had a mental health issue yesterday or thirty years ago, we are to claim the promise that while it may not be easy, we are not alone.

            Someone in the hospital pushed me to ask if God did this to me. I don’t think that’s the God I have come to know, but I know this: I have never felt closer to God than when I’m fighting mental illness or advocating for my mental health. That is because God is just crazy enough to love someone like me, and frankly, that is the good news. Our faith is most importantly confidence that we are loved and can be empowered to love others. As the hymn goes, “The task looms large before us, the cry goes up how long, and soon the night of weeping shall be the morn of song.” or as a newer song says, "You gotta kick at the darkness til it bleeds daylight." so keep kicking folks, in every sense of that phrase. 

A Service of Death and Resurrection For Leigh Anne Ewing-McLelland

Isaiah 43:1-3a

Bunch-Johnson Funeral Home

The Reverend Rob Lee

“But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

Will you pray with me?

            Oh God, source of ultimate truth, you are ever more ready to hear than we are to pray. You know our needs before we ask them and our ignorance in asking. Grant that as we shrink before the mystery of death, we may see the light of eternity. Speak to us once more your solemn message of life and of death. Help us to live as those who are prepared to die. And when our days here are accomplished, enable us to die as those who go forth to live, so that in living or dying, our life may be in you, and that nothing in life or in death will be able to separate us form your great love. Amen.

The 15^th century painter Rogier Van Der Weyden has a painting entitled, The Deposition of Christ in which the painting depicts the lowest point in the story of humanity. The painting shows a dead Jesus of Nazareth being brought down off the cross after the crucifixion. What’s fascinating about this painting isn’t the image of Jesus, that part is prototypical. What makes this painting unique is the other characters in the scene. Each of these figures in the painting uniquely shows a different reaction to the death of Jesus, some in anger, some in terror, some in horror, and some, most notably, in sheer and utter sadness.

 I suspect Van Der Weyden if were alive today and painting the scene of this moment he too would paint a similar picture. We come this day in anger, in terror, with questions, but most notably in sheer, utter sadness at the death we have experienced. A death that happened far too soon, and with so many questions we are left to wonder, can anything good come from this? Can we get up tomorrow and begin to heal?

The answer my friends, comes from Isaiah the 43^rd chapter in the Hebrew Bible. “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name and you are mine.” Not only that, but the prophet goes on to say “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”

Whenever an unexpected death happens, we are left with the question of “why?” But I think if we take a careful look at the text we see something. The God of the prophet Isaiah, the God I have come to know does not promise that we will not face trouble or trials or even death itself. But what the prophet does say is that we will never be alone. Dear family, today you are not alone. You are surrounded by love and a community that wants you to know that you are cherished. These days ahead will be hard but you can take comfort in knowing you will never have to face what’s ahead alone. There has been countless outpourings of love and support and you can cherish that in the days, weeks, months and years to come.

But I must warn you, in the days ahead don’t let people offer you superficial truths or half-answers. God did not need another angel in heaven, God did not will this, God did not have a part in the untimely death of your wife, your mother, our friend. The God we know isn’t like that. But don’t hear me wrong in thinking that God is absent. It’s quite the opposite. God confronts sudden tragedy with sudden mercy and sudden grace.

God has called and God has redeemed Leigh Anne for she was one of God’s beloved. And God too brings all of us with the apostles, saints, sages and martyrs into subjection under Christ. In the book of Hebrews it is clear that Christ’s coming to the world did not end tragedy or despair, his coming did not end the pain of death or the hardship we now face with Leigh Anne’s departure. But instead it gives it context. It reminds us that there is nothing on earth that can challenge the ultimate truth of love and light in this world. For God has called us all by name and we are God’s.

My favorite theological ethicist, the Reverend Dr. Samuel Wells has these profound words to say, “If it can’t be happy, make it beautiful.” Nothing about this tragic loss of life at too young of age can be happy. Nothing about any death is happy. But our response, how we go forth into this cold, dark world in light of this death can be beautiful. We can begin to cherish the time we have, we can live like there is no tomorrow and laugh like Leigh-Anne did in so many situations. I think she would be proud that we are continuing her celebration at Marty’s Pub after this. I think what better way to celebrate a free spirit than to continue a celebration outside the confines of a chapel.

Dear friends Dr. Marcus Borg, the late great 20^th century Protestant theologian once said about death, “So, is there an afterlife, and if so, what will it be like? I don't have a clue. But I am confident that the one who has buoyed us up in life will also buoy us up through death. We die into God. What more that means, I do not know. But that is all I need to know.”

Today we stand buoyed up. We paint the picture that Van Der Weyden painted of our different shades of grief, some in anger, some in despair, some in sheer utter sadness. Some of us even mutter the question “What kind of God would do this to us?” but then we look around, and we see the community that surrounds us and loves us and we know, that God is at work, redeeming, restoring and resurrecting even us. Keep painting as Van Der Weyden did, keep expressing your grief and your anger. God is a big boy and can handle it. Thanks be to God. Amen.