Posts Tagged with silence

Text: Psalm 42 and 1 Kings 19:1-15a

Blessed are the crazy.
Blessed are those who experience feelings of anxiety and are consumed by worry.
Blessed are those who have suicidal thoughts.
Blessed are those who have survived trauma.
Blessed are those are trapped in cycles of addiction.
Blessed are the crazy.
Blessed.

That isn’t the first word that we often use to talk about mental illness.
In fact, we rarely talk about it in the walls of the church and when we do, it is often sitting around the couches in my office, or whispered to your neighbor at coffee time, rather than out in the open.
And rather than any spirit of blessedness, we share those stories with a sense of shame or confusion or judgement.

The first person I knew with a mental illness was my friend’s mother.
That doesn’t mean there weren’t other people in my life… we just never talked about it.
But there was always this sense of embarrassment from him that she wasn’t like the other moms. And I experienced that myself when we hung out. She would hole up for days at a time and not really talk with anyone. She had no energy to take care of anyone else and so he really learned how to take care of himself.
But she would also get on these kicks and you absolutely had to stay out of her way while she dove into a craft project and took over the house. Everything else got put to the side… including my friend.
Later, we came to understand she was struggling with manic depression and with medication her life has evened out a little bit more.
But at the time, it was hard not to feel resentment for the ways that our lives had to accommodate hers or frustration that she wasn’t “normal.”
We certainly never thought of her as blessed.
And yet, we wouldn’t necessarily call the poor and the hungry, the grieving and the persecuted blessed either.
But Jesus did.
Jesus declares in the Beatitudes of Matthew 5 and Luke 6 an upside-down, counter-intuitive vision of the world.
Sometimes we think of each of those beatitudes as characteristics that we are called to embody: meekness, peacemaking, etc…
But as Alan Brehm notes, that is only a secondary point.
The primary message is that God’s blessing has been poured out on those who expose their vulnerability. They declare that “those whom society has deemed unfortunate are truly blessed in God’s realm. It says that those who have no reason in this world for hope or joy, those who have been deprived of their fair share of goodness and justice – those are the ones for whom God’s kingdom… are incredible gifts.”
So yes, blessed are the crazy… for they shall receive mercy, compassion, and love.

Each week of this series, we are going to dive into scripture and look at how those blessings arrive for people who are struggling with their mental health.

Today’s story focuses on the prophet Elijah.
Depression might not have been a chronic struggle for him, but it was certainly situational.
A new king had arisen in the land, Ahab and his wife Jezebel, and they were no friends of God.
Elijah and other prophets were called to speak God’s word of judgment upon their reign and were persecuted as a result. About a hundred of them went into hiding, but the rest were executed.
Remaining faithful to his calling, Elijah publicly challenged the prophets of Baal and Asherah to a contest, which is described in the chapter just before our reading this morning. God’s power shows up, and Ahab and Jezebel’s prophets are put to shame and killed.

Now, Elijah’s life is really in danger. Furious with her defeat, Jezebel vows to hunt down and kill him.
He is terrified and alone and sinks into a state of severe depression.
Sitting under a bush in the middle of the desert, he wants nothing more than death.
I find his story echoed in the words of Psalm 42 and I invite you to hear selected verses again from the Message translation:

I’m on a diet of tears—
tears for breakfast, tears for supper.
All day long
people knock at my door,
Pestering,
“Where is this God of yours?”
These are the things I go over and over,
emptying out the pockets of my life.
I was always at the head of the worshiping crowd,
right out in front,
Leading them all,
eager to arrive and worship,
Shouting praises, singing thanksgiving—
celebrating, all of us, God’s feast!…
Sometimes I ask God, my rock-solid God,
“Why did you let me down?
Why am I walking around in tears,
harassed by enemies?”
They’re out for the kill, these
tormentors with their obscenities,
Taunting day after day,
“Where is this God of yours?”
Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?
Why are you crying the blues?
Fix my eyes on God—
soon I’ll be praising again.
He puts a smile on my face.
He’s my God.

Here is a faithful servant of God, who intimately knows God’s power and yet he cannot find the strength to keep going.
In her book, Blessed are the Crazy, Sarah Griffith Lund reminds us,

“Faith is not an anti-depressant. It cannot be swallowed in order to rewire our brains for happiness. Rather, faith allows us to accept the coexistence of God and suffering. We do not have to choose between two realities, because, if we did, God would have to go. There is no way we could deny the existence of suffering. I believe God exists in this messed up world, and, in the moments of greatest pain, God is there to wipe away our tears. After all, we aren’t the only ones crying. God is crying too.”

Wallowing in grief, exhaustion, and depression, Elijah has faith and still can’t take another step.
“It’s more than enough, Lord!” he cries out.

Does God tell him to suck it up?
Does God push him to get over it?
Does God get embarrassed by the weary state of his servant?
Does God resent that this so-called prophet just can’t do it right now?
No.
Blessed are the crazy.
Blessed are the depressed and anxious.
Blessed are those at the end of their rope.

God accepts Elijah right where he is and accompanies him through this time in the wilderness.
God gives him the space he needs to take care of himself and his needs.
And you know what Elijah desperately needs?
He needs a nap.
And so he lies down under that bush and God lets him sleep.
And then God sends a messenger, because sleep is not the only thing we need to take care of our body, mind, and spirit…
A messenger that sends food.
Bread, baking on a stone.
A jar of cool water.
Elijah eats and then sleeps again.
And God is there, watching over him. Caring for him. Accompanying him through this dark night of the soul, this wilderness journey.
And God sends a messenger to nudge him again, encouraging him to eat once again.

God shows up in the midst of Elijah’s depression. God speaks to him… not through earthquake and wind and fire – not through judgment or anger or force… but through the silence.
In the thin and quiet moment God speaks.
God is present.

How then should we show up for one another?
Do we avoid our friends or loved ones who are depressed?
Are we embarrassed by them or urge them to just get over it?
Or do we accompany them?
Do we make sure their needs are cared for?
Do we show up and simply be present with them?

As I have spent time with people who suffer from chronic diseases, including depression, one of the tools that can be really helpful was introduced by Christine Miserandino. It is called Spoon Theory, and it describes the amount of energy certain tasks that we undertake in a day might require for someone who is struggling with their mental or physical health.
If on any given day, we only have 12 spoons worth of energy to spend, we have to make choices about what those things are.
Simply getting out of bed in the morning takes energy. (one spoon)
Getting dressed and taking my medicine takes another spoon each (two spoons).
If it is a work day, I need to shower and eat (four more spoons)
And then work itself, which takes a lot of energy (four spoons).
That right there has spent eleven of the twelve spoons I might have in a day.
Any energy to clean or care for others or exercise is already spent.

The other key component of spoon theory is that sometimes, in order to do something you need to do, you have to borrow spoons from another day. If you have to give extra… it means that the next day you can’t start with twelve new spoons… you start with a deficit.
When I think about the intense experience that Elijah underwent, challenging those prophets of Baal and Asherah and then fleeing for his life, it is no wonder that all he could do the next day was sleep and eat and sleep some more.

And so when we find ourselves in these seasons, we have to learn how to be gentle with ourselves, be wise with our decisions, ask for help when needed.
And we need to have a spirit of compassion and kindness towards those among us who are literally giving all the energy they can muster just to show up or get out of bed in the morning. We can practice the patience of God and we can show up to accompany our loved ones through their wilderness.

There are, of course, other ways that we can build resiliency and strengthen our mental health so that we might come out of that wilderness season.
Just like we can improve our physical health by eating right and exercising, our mental health takes a little bit of work.
At the bottom of your insert you will see a few tools that are really common sense things that it is helpful to be reminded really work.
We can connect…. Stay positive… create joy… care for our spirits… and all of these things will help increase our capacity for mental health.
In fact, something as simple as a smile can make a difference, and so that is why with our pancake breakfast this morning we are encouraging you to dress up your pancake with a smile and to share your face for mental health awareness.

Mental health isn’t a solitary journey. So let us walk it together and let us surround one another in prayer, love and compassion.
For blessed are the crazy.