A personal reflection on Christian spirituality

This is a personal reflection on the first hundred pages of the book

In the Midst of Much-Doing: Cultivating a Missional Spirituality, by Charles Ringma (Langham, 2023)

I have some reservations about "Christian Spirituality" that are slowly being eroded. One reservation is the fear of subjectivism that neglects objective and universal truths stated concretely (albeit imperfectly) by Orthodox creeds and doctrine, based on Biblical revelation. A second reservation is the fear of spirituality and meditation leading to self-absorption, introspection, individualism, and a self-legitimation of consumerist desires and aspirations. Finally, I have a prejudice to choose activism over contemplation. This book does much to address my concerns and invites me to a balanced Christian spirituality. The following statement in the Preface resonates with me.

the genesis for this book was formed in the midst of my own unsustainable evangelical activism, which was further complicated by my somewhat compulsive personality. My search for a more sustainable spirituality was also influenced by some unhealthy theological concepts that I inherited from my Reformed tradition—particularly its election anxiety and paramount focus on personal piety, with little attention to nurturing liturgical and communal spiritual practices. 

My focus on personal activism was also unwittingly reinforced by naïve Western notions about our capacity to change the world because we presume that God is “on our side.” When we take on a calling that is well beyond our capabilities and resources, we may boldly set out to try to make things better in our society while treating God as an onlooker, a boss we are seeking to please, or someone who is there simply to cheer us on.  (page xxv)

If “Reformed tradition” is replaced with some of the churches and organisations I have been involved with over the past four decades this reflects my own experience. I have had three major burnouts, each accompanied by mental illness. In all cases, they were precipitated by unsustainable activism, driven by wrong thinking and distorted theology. 

Only over the past few years have I come to appreciate, and even celebrate(!), my uniqueness as an introvert, a scientist, and a Christian intellectual. I am easily drained by social interactions, uncertainty, noise, crowds, rush, .. but am energised by time alone, reflection, reading, planning, rest, Sabbath…

Central to the book is the “trialectic paradigm of the head (theological formation), heart (spiritual formation), and hand (missional formation).” These cannot be separated, isolated, or given relative priority. We need to engage all of them and integrate them into our lives.

“the fundamental theme that runs through this book, … is that mission is not just a task but a way of life… our missional calling is: to join and cooperate with God’s redemptive, healing, and transformative activity in bringing all things into the new creation.” (page 21)

What is Christian spirituality? It is a relief to learn that it is quite different to forms that I encounter and resist. In particular, it is Trinitarian. The Spirit is not some vague source of mysticism that will affirm our own fantasies and desires but rather the presence of the Father and the Son, bringing to mind the teaching of the Son.

Christian spirituality is motivated and shaped by a life devoted to following Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit. (page 25)

key definition…: a missional Christian spirituality is a way of life in Christ through the Spirit that animates our love and service to others. (page 26)

Ringma identifies seven marks of Christian spirituality: a way of life, cruciform, sustained by the Spirit, communal, spiritual disciplines (Sabbath and self-care), for the life of the world, and being sent. 

Evelyn Underhill said that Christian spirituality has “everything to do with the political” (page 33). I found this surprising as I tended to think of her as a mystic who was disengaged from the “real” world.

Underhill also strikes a helpful note of realism, reminding us that in the grand purposes of God—the restoration of all things in the new creation already begun in Christ—we are “to take our small place in the vast operations of His Spirit.” In this, she highlights the importance of knowing our particular calling and giftedness so that we can function out of who we are and what we have already received. Thus, our missional spirituality does not depend on us alone, but has everything to do with the ways in which we have been gifted and called. This implies that we will need to embrace both our calling and our limitations. As a consequence, ministry is not a “grinding” activity, but rather joyful and purposeful service—which is also costly. (page 35)

This is amazing for me to read. It is liberating. I wish I had internalised this forty years ago. Being a low-energy academic introvert is not a flaw, curse, disability, distraction, or self-indulgence. It is part of my calling and giftedness. This includes my privileged family and academic background, education, and professional experience. This includes my love for learning, science, and nature. As well as my passion for justice and concern for the marginalised.

As a Christian intellectual, I enjoy reflecting on the world (politics, economics, science, technology, culture, and education) and trying to understand it through multiple lenses including theology. I enjoy sharing those reflections through writing, teaching, blogging, and my work with the Logos and Cosmos Initiative, within the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students. I receive positive feedback and affirmation from others for these activities. Thus, I find the passage below helpful and encouraging to put my efforts in the broader context of missional spirituality.

In contemplating the face of God through prayer, solitude, reading, and reflecting on

Scripture and our world, we cultivate friendship with God and we seek God’s will for our time. This will involve a hermeneutics of both text and context. Understanding our world will also involve the work of exegesis, theology, and the historical and social sciences. In our contemplation of the world through the cycle of action and reflection, we seek to understand both the goodness of God in our social fabric and institutions as well as the idolatries of our society and culture. Amidst this interplay, we seek to discern how God is inviting us to participate in God’s passion for the healing and reconciling of all things through Christ. (page 83)

Henri Nouwen notes how time with God is not inward looking and selfish, but rather gives us fresh eyes to wonder at those we love and care for.

Following the desert father, Evagrius Ponticus, Nouwen says that contemplation is about seeing “things for what they really are” and moving from “opaqueness to transparency.” Thus, the “contemplative life is a life of vision.” This new way of seeing involves seeing all things bathed in “the Creator’s love” and in the light of “the hand of God with us” in all that we are and do. However, this way of seeing life and the world is not based on a few extraordinary moments, but a whole way of life that is possible when the “God within us recognizes God in the world.” Nouwen observes that when we see “ordinary life with its daily routines and responsibilities with a ‘deeper vision of life,’” it has consequences for how we see others. He writes, “our time of being with God gives us new eyes to see the beauty and gifts in those for whom we care.”

Contemplation is not escapism from our struggles or from the suffering in the world, but actually the path to a deeper engagement with the world.

A key summary of Nouwen’s understanding of contemplation is that “the movement from loneliness to solitude is not a movement of growing withdrawal, but instead a movement toward a deeper engagement in the burning issues of our time.” (page 104)

Thomas Merton has a similar perspective. Contemplative prayer enables us to see the world as it is, in all its created beauty and the ugliness of human sin and idolatry.

Merton makes it very clear that contemplative prayer is not simply for monks, and he further emphasizes that it is not a way of escaping from life’s realities. In fact, the contemplative is always “searching . . . his [her] own heart” while at the same time plunging “deep into the heart of the world.” This form of prayer and reflection “does not blind us to the world, but . . transforms our vision of the world,” so that we can see the love of God upholding our world and gain insight into the “falsity and illusion” of much of life, along with “exposure to what the world ignores about itself—both good and evil.” (page 106)

I had the completely wrong idea about Teresa of Avila. My views were coloured by the discussion about her “ecstatic” experiences. However, she was actually a very practical person, being influential in "the Catholic reform movement, with Teresa of Avila’s emphasis on the “journey to spiritual marriage” and its outworking in “growth in love of neighbor,” " (page 115)

Ringma’s summary puts things in perspective. 

While it is possible for the Christian mystic to get marooned in the eddies of one’s own spiritual experiences, this is not the hallmark of the Christian mystical tradition. Rather, its orientation is rooted in the inextricable connection between the love of God and the love of neighbour. As such, there is a direct link between mysticism and ministry, (page 116)

Mysticism (contemplative prayer) focuses on internalising God’s love for us. But a genuine experience of that love through the Spirit cannot but overflow into a love of others, particularly those whose God’s heart breaks for, the lost and the marginalised.

Finally, I love the following quote:

The Jesuit philosopher and spiritual director, Father Thomas Green, while emphasizing the transcendence and otherness of God, notes that “God is really the most sensible person that I know” (Prayer and Common Sense, 9). What he means by this is not a denial of the mystery of God in the life of faith, but that living the Christian life is also about responding to and living normal life realities. He notes that “this world—and our human experience—is not a dream, to be rejected as illusory or unreal. Rather, we are called to see it from a new vantage point, in a new light” 

This book has already had a profound impact on me. I commend it to you.

Note: I received a complimentary copy of the book from the author, who is a fellow "holy" scribbler. 

What do Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King Jr have to do with one another?

This month at the theology reading group we are discussing Bonhoeffer and King: Their Legacies and Import for Christian Social Thought. It is a volume of eighteen separate essays and edited by Willis Jenkins and Jennifer M. McBride.

Martin Luther King Jr. and Dietrich Bonhoeffer lived at different times and in different contexts. Bonhoeffer lived, wrote, preached, resisted, suffered, and was executed in Nazi Germany in 1945. King lived, wrote, preached, resisted, suffered, and was assassinated in a racially-segregated USA almost a quarter of a century later, in 1968. Coincidentally, both were killed at the age of thirty-nine years and four months. Both took a stand against injustice and resisted tyranny, ultimately at the cost of their lives. Both were completely driven by their theological convictions, with a focus on costly and radical discipleship, and the Sermon on the Mount.

Both had communitarian perspectives on life and politics. Here is an example, from King.

“In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be... This is the inter-related structure of reality.” 

 Martin Luther King Jr., Letter from Birmingham Jail

Note, that this mutuality resonates with the apostle Paul's perspective on the church as the body of Christ, as described in Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12:25-26:

But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. 26 If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.

Although there are similarities between King and Bonhoeffer, there are some significant differences. Foremost, Bonhoeffer as a Gentile and a child of privilege had the freedom to choose to take the path of suffering. In contrast, King and his forebears did not have a choice. Suffering was forced on them because of the colour of their skin. They were enslaved, beaten, lynched, discriminated against, and denied civil and voting rights. Yet in that enforced circumstance they had the choice to take the path of the cross, to suffer with dignity, to forgive their enemies, and to turn the other cheek (page 158).

A second difference was their theological perspective, including their interpretation of the Bible. King embraced his education in liberal Protestantism, claiming it more "rational", sometimes distanced himself from orthodox belief, and interpreted much of the Bible in terms of the social gospel. Bonhoeffer had a higher view of Scripture and embraced orthodox creeds. Note Bonhoeffer was against the tide of his time, when Germany was awash with higher criticism and liberal theology. Although, Karl Barth was a kindred spirit.

Both were preachers who carefully crafted sermons with aesthetic appeal and anchored in Biblical texts, metaphors, and theology. There is a nice chapter on "Preaching and Prophetic Witness," by Raphael Warnock, currently pastor of the last church that King pastored, and recently elected to the USA Senate.

A chapter, "King and Bonhoeffer as Protestant Saints," by Stephen Haynes, ends by quoting the first two stanzas of the poem, "A Dead Man’s Dream" written by Carl Wendell Hines Jr. as a tribute to King.

Now that he is safely dead,

Let us praise him.

Build monuments to his glory.

Sing Hosannas to his name.

Dead men make such convenient heroes.

For they cannot rise to challenge the images

That we might fashion from their lives.

It is easier to build monuments

Than to build a better world.

So now that he is safely dead,

We, with eased consciences will

Teach our children that he was a great man,

Knowing that the cause for which he

Lived is still a cause

And the dream for which he died is still a dream.

A dead man’s dream.

The futile quest for certainty in treating mental illness

Last week at my church we started a five-week course on Mental Health and Pastoral Care. It is being facilitated by a team with different experiences and expertise, including medical, psychological, pastoral, theological, and personal. I like this as mental health is complex and multi-faceted. My role is someone who has struggled with mental health for most of my adult life and has consequently read and thought widely and interacted with a diverse range of sufferers and carers. Previously, I wrote a post giving a theological perspective on mental health and gave a sermon on the Wisdom of Weakness.

A central idea in the course is that of the four-dimensional character of mental health, and the importance of an integrated perspective. 

This is captured in the figure below from Sanctuary Mental Health Ministries.

A specific case of mental illness provokes two practical questions. 

What are the causes of this specific case of mental illness? 

What will be the most effective treatment plan that will lead to healing? 

These are natural and important questions. The problem is that in most cases the answers are not clear.

In contrast, consider most physical medical problems or when technological device fails. An expert can determine the cause of the specific problem: an infection in the left ear, a broken bone in the right arm, an electrical fuse has blown, or the spark plugs in the car engine are not working. Furthermore, the expert can propose and implement a treatment plan that will solve the problem. Given the advanced state of our knowledge, we can be almost certain that the diagnosis is correct, the treatment plan is appropriate, and that the problem will be solved. This certainty reflects the wonders and blessings of science and technology.

The problem is that the success of the sciences in some domains has led to hopes, expectations, and a myth that similar certainty and success are possible in other domains of life. However, the problem is that human brains are much more complex than ears, bones, cars, and electrical circuits. The relationship between consciousness, brain, and body remains a mystery, and people are embedded in networks of human relationships (from family to global cyberspace) and have long and complex personal histories.

This quest for certainty is driven by healthcare professionals, big pharma, governments, and patients. On the positive side, this quest reflects our humanity in our desire to alleviate human suffering. On the negative side, there are significant benefits: financial, professional, social status, and political to be gained by offering certainty, even when it is not justified. In the case of psychiatry as a science,is the issue of its professional hubris are discussed in this book review.

This quest for certainty is also driven by human desires for quick fixes to problems.

One problem with the diagram above representing the four-dimensional model is that some people, both patients and professionals, will want to locate a specific case of mental illness as being at a specific point on the diagram. For almost all cases that is simply not possible. 

Origins of the modern quest for certainty: part 3

We live in an uncertain world. Some things we can be certain of: death, taxes, gravity, the sun rising,... Furthermore, science has been successful at establishing "laws" that describe many aspects of the natural world. Yet, certainty is elusive on so many areas of life, including in our understanding of some aspects of the natural world. Certainty is an idol that is crafted and worshipped by a cast of characters, in politics, science, technology, business, church,...

The yearning for certainty may be a characteristic of humanity. But where did the idea that we could have such certainty come from?

In a previous post I quote extensively from Miroslav Volf's engagement with 

Cosmopolis: The Hidden Agenda of Modernity by the philosopher Stephen Toulmin. He traces the quest and all its unhelpful consequences back to Rene Descartes. Here is another author from a completely different field engaging with Toulmin. Malcolm Miles, in his book Paradoxical Urbanism: Anti-Urban Currents in Modern Urbanism (pages 50-51).

the Discourse was written [by Descartes] and published during the Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648), a conflict between Catholic and Protestant dynasties and ideologies in which Descartes was a gentleman observer at the Emperor’s court. That is why he travelled in Germany and found himself in a stove-heated room.  ...Stephen Toulmin writes of this period that, 

‘rival militias and military forces consisting largely of mercenaries fought to and fro, again and again, over the same disputed territories … in the name of theological doctrines that no one could give any conclusive reasons for accepting.' [Toulmin, p.55] 

 Around a third of the population of the land which now constitutes Germany and the Czech Republic were killed, either directly in fighting or through famines resulting from the destruction of crops, or in the displacement following the burning of villages and towns. Both sides committed atrocities. Toulmin asks, ‘In this blood-drenched situation, what could good intellectuals do?' They could maintain Renaissance humanism, or

withdraw. Or, 

Might not philosophers discover … a new and more rational basis for establishing a framework of concepts and beliefs capable of achieving the agreed certainty that the skeptics had said was impossible? If uncertainty, ambiguity, and the acceptance of pluralism led, in practice, only to an intensification of the religious war, the time had come to discover some rational method for demonstrating the essential correctness or incorrectness of philosophical, scientific, or theological doctrines. [Toulmin, p.55]

This is the reason for the Discourse. But Toulmin identifies another

response in the idea of Cosmopolis, a fusion of two systems: that of cosmos, the natural world and natural sciences, with polis, political and social organisation. Cosmopolis unites these ideas in a single ideal as a means to resolve the separation of the natural from the social and political world. 

Toulmin argues that Cosmopolis figures in the rise of nation-states in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, replacing dynastic feudalism; and in the rise of natural science in the same period. Both seek stability, and the nation-state constructs it in the relations of states to each other while also constructing a hierarchy in their internal social structures, making modern political institutions on a seemingly non-contingent basis: 

It was important to believe that the principles of stability and hierarchy were found in all of the Divine plan, down from the astronomical cosmos to the individual family. Behind the inertness of matter, they saw in Nature, as in Society, that the actions of lower things depended on, and were subordinate to oversight and command by higher creatures … The more confident one was about subordination and authority in Nature, the less anxious one need accordingly be about social inequalities. ...

The comprehensive system of ideas about nature and humanity that formed the scaffolding of Modernity was thus a social and political, as well as a scientific, device: it was seen as conferring Divine legitimacy on the political order of the sovereign nation-state. In this respect, the world view of modern science … won public support around 1700 for the legitimacy it apparently gave to the political system of nation-states as much as for its power to explain the motions of planets, or the rise and fall of tides. 

[Toulmin, p. 128]

One could be certain about the motion of planets. They followed laws, ordained by God. Similarly one could be certain about social and political structures. 

As I argued before, there are significant problems with Descartes' ideas about universal truth and method. Humans are not cannonballs falling to earth or planets orbiting the sun. We are much more complex. The methods and certainties associated with mechanical motion do not necessarily translate to other systems: human, social, economic, and political.,

Wisdom in Weakness (a sermon)

Last Sunday at Village Church in Brisbane I gave a sermon, entitled the Wisdom of Weakness. In the beginning I talk about some of my own encounters with weakness through my struggles with mental health. I then looks at some Bible passages from 1 and 2 Corinthians that discuss weakness, particularly in light of the Cross of Christ.

The video recording of the morning service is below. (Sorry that the sound quality is not brilliant).

Here is the text of the sermon (including some material I cut out for time reasons) The slides are here.

Some local context is that a goal of the sermon was to help set the stage and pique interest in a forthcoming course the church is running on Mental Health and Pastoral Care.

The sermon has some parallels to a talk I gave a few years ago at Theology on Tap and led to a chapter in the book, Pub Theology.

Jesus hears the cry of oppressed Africans

But, do followers of Jesus hear the cry?

This month in the theology reading group we discussed My Faith as an African, by Jean-Marc Ela. It was largely written while the author was working as a Catholic priest amongst the Kirdi people in northern Cameroon. It was published in French in 1983 and translated into English in 1985. Ela was particularly concerned about the poverty, hunger, and suffering of the village communities that he was ministering too.

Here, I focus on some broad questions that are raised by my reading of the book, as a WWW (Wealthy White Westerner).

Is Jesus relevant to every context?

Ela and I would both answer yes. But, Ela argues that the Catholic church was not relevant to his context. The everyday life of his congregants was one of a daily struggle for existence, exacerbated by external oppressive forces. The dogmas, catechisms, liturgies, and rituals of the Catholic church were not relevant. They were entrenched in Western culture and thought, and ancient traditions that are alien to Africans. Furthermore, by aligning itself with the powerful and presenting a gospel that focuses on the afterlife, the church is complicit in the oppression of the poor. 

Although Ela writes from a Catholic perspective and experience, many African Protestants would agree with his perspective.

Yet, Jesus is a liberator. He identified with the poor, with social outcasts. He suffered with them in his crucifixion and death. Thus, the church needs to change. 

Universality vs particularity

This dialectic tension is embodied in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. He claims to be the Saviour and King of the whole world and for all time. The Gospel is for all cultures, languages, and ethnicities. Yet, there is the scandal of particularity. God chose a specific people, the Israelites, at a specific time, to reveal Himself, and to use as an instrument to bless all nations. Furthermore, Jesus was a particular man in a particular place, at a particular time. The New Testament writers wrestle with how the church is to express itself in a new cultural context, such as Gentiles across Asia minor. The struggle to balance universality and particularity, and to relate the Gospel to local culture has continued in two thousand years of church history. Ela was at the forefront of that struggle in his own context.

Abstract vs concrete

Western Christianity, both Catholic and Protestant, has delighted in and endlessly divided over abstractions, from the precise wordings of creeds about the nature of the Trinity or the Eucharist, to endless theological -ologies: soteriology, eschatology, ecclesiology, ... The outcomes of these intellectual debates have debatable relevance to concrete situations in everyday life or church life.

There is no connection between these abstractions and the everyday life of an African from a village or a slum.

What about Jesus? His life and teaching was rather earthy. Much of his ministry concerned eating and drinking with people, particularly those on the margins. He did not present abstract doctrines but told stories. His teaching and life were integrated.

Sacred vs secular

Valuing church traditions and abstractions imported from the West at the expense of engaging with local realities is an example of the sacred-secular divide. It values the spiritual and the eternal, liturgy, sacraments, over non-Church activities including temporal and material concerns.  

Jesus was certainly concerned about peoples spiritual needs and their eternal destiny. But, Jesus was also concerned with the material needs of the people he encountered, healing and providing food. Furthermore, he urged his followers to provide clothing, food, shelter, hospitality, even just a cup of water, to those in need. 

What is the meaning of the Incarnation?

John 1 states that "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." Emmanuel means "God is with us."

Ela says the church thinks that "The Word became a text." A text is not of much use to illiterate peasants. In contrast, the church, as the Body of Christ, Jesus, the living Word can be present, concrete, empathetic, in solidarity, and relevant to African communities.

What are African realities?

Ela uses the term "African realities" repeatedly. There are many dimensions to this, including the following. Villagers traditionally survived with subsistence farming, growing crops such as millet. They now go hungry as they are forced to grow cash crops such as rice for external markets. The main beneficiaries are multinational companies and African urban elites. Disease and death flourish with access to Western medicine reserved for the urban elites. They are the only people with access to schools and hospitals started by churches to help the poor.

Poverty and suffering have been compounded by the massive migration of people from villages to urban centres, where they now suffer in slums.

Post-independence politics is dominated by corrupt autocracies who use violence to maintain power. Colonialism [oppression by Western rulers] has been replaced with neo-colonialism, the exploitation and oppression of Africans and their land by multinational corporations and national governments. 

African traditional religion has been misinterpreted and demonised by Westerners. Rituals that honour ancestors are not idolatry. What about witchcraft? People resort to it due to the irrelevance and the impotence of the church on matters of everyday existence.

What are possible ways forward?

Ela advocates community development. This involves conscientisation, self-determination, and agency. There are similarities to the basic ecclesial communities in Latin America, whose practices were influenced by the ideas of Pablo Freire, author of Pedagogy of the Oppressed.

What is African culture?

Too many people think of African culture in terms of the traditional culture that existed prior to colonisation. That assumes culture is static, rather than dynamic. Ela points out that African culture today is a rapidly changing hybrid, being a mix of traditional and Western culture. This hybrid culture increases alienation and a crisis of identity because of the internal contradictions and unpredictability of such a hybrid.

Ela considers it a mistake to advocate a return to the past traditional culture. This is both impossible and undesirable. Furthermore, many attempts at inculturation, contextualisation, or indigenisation in theology and liturgy are superficial. They merely consist of incorporating traditional songs or dress into worship. Ela sees this as a tool of oppression as it sidesteps the more substantial challenges of the church having a theology, practice, and communities that engage with current African realities.

Are African realities different now? 

The book was written almost forty years ago. My limited understanding is that many of the issues discussed in the book are just as relevant today. Perhaps some of the problems are even worse.

How is the book relevant to Western Christians?

Yes. A large fraction of Christians now live in Africa. Westerners need to know their reality, be in solidarity with them, and learn from them. Furthermore, engagement with different cultures and contexts can force us to reflect on our own culture and context and be more self-aware of our own limitations and challenges. 

A theology of mental health

Humans are complex. Society is complex. Theology and science are complex. Mental illness is complex. What causes mental illness? What are paths to healing? Can it be prevented? Here, I explore how Christian theology is a rich resource to help address these questions. I write as a non-expert in theology, cognitive science, and mental health. But I also write as someone who, for four decades, has struggled with my mental health, read widely, and walked with many others on their journey.

As with many issues, I find it helpful to begin my exploration with the key theological concepts that are encapsulated in the Biblical narrative: creation, sin, redemption, and re-creation.

The doctrine of creation highlights that humans are made in the image of God. We are relational, rational, and wonderful. Human relationality is reflected in the Trinity. We are creatures; we have finite capacities. We are designed by God to enjoy and live in harmony with one another and with the rest of God's creation. We are like animals, but distinct. Rest (Sabbath) is central to life and its rhythms. Creation, from our being to food and nature, is a gracious gift. Mental illness is not God's plan or design.

Sin. (The Fall) We do not experience God's ideal: life in the Garden of Eden. Like Adam and Eve, we want autonomy, to rule ourselves. Like them, we are alienated from God, ourselves (shame), each other, and nature. Work is toil, and male-female relationships are a power struggle. We live in a world that is marred by sin: individual, collective and structural. Sin has corrupted our thinking and desires. The whole creation is broken and groaning. Violence, disease and death are part of life, but not God's wish, plan or design.  Given the multiple-dimensional character of sin's influence and presence in the world, we should not expect to be able to simply identify the cause of a specific incidence of mental illness in one individual.

The tower of Babel captures human hubris and ambition, the vanity of our futile attempts to know and understand everything. Even when we don't understand, we will claim that we do and ridicule and silence those who don't have our "correct" understanding. 

In her book, Mind Fixers: Psychiatry's Troubled Search for the Biology of Mental Illness, Anne Harrington, a historian of science at Harvard, comments.

Today one is hard-pressed to find anyone knowledgeable who believes that the so-called biological revolution of the 1980’s made good on most or even any of its therapeutic and scientific promises. It is now increasingly clear to the general public that it overreached, overpromised, overdiagnosed, overmedicated and compromised its principles.

Fortunately, we are not cursed and condemned to forever live in a sinful world marred by disease, despair, shame, guilt, and violence. God acted according to his promises, sending his Son, Jesus Christ, to usher in the Kingdom of God.

Redemption. God identified with humanity by humbling himself and becoming fully human as Jesus Christ. He proclaimed the Kingdom of God, preaching repentance and the forgiveness of sins, healing the sick, and driving out demons. Mental illness is not God's design or plan. People are not sick simply because they sinned or their parents sinned. Jesus death and resurrection bring reconciliation: between God and us, with one another, and the whole of creation. The curse of sin is reversed. Jesus is the suffering servant. He suffers for our sake. He has entered into our suffering. As he lives in us and we in him, we can participate in his sufferings. If we struggle with mental illness, we can find hope and comfort as Jesus knows and shares our struggle. Our liberation from our sin and the world of sin and disease is "now, but not yet." In this life, an individual may experience no, some, or almost complete healing from mental illness. Nevertheless, we can be certain of a future day when we will all be completely healed from every affliction.

Re-creation. There will be a new heaven and earth, where there will be no more tears, sin, suffering, or death. In this Kingdom of God, justice, truth, and righteousness will reign. We will have new minds and bodies. We will be living in the City of God, which contains the River of Life and the Tree of Knowledge. There will be no mental illness. Redemption will be complete. This hope can give hope to those who suffer and those who care for them.

Living with virtue. How then shall we live as we wait for our redemption, even while afflicted with mental illness or walking with those who are? The fruits of the Holy Spirit include love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, and self-control. God has designed us to live a particular way. Hence, we should not be surprised to learn that research shows how forgiveness and thankfulness are beneficial to mental health.

What is a person? Our view will shape what we consider to be the causes and cures of mental illness. A Biblical anthropology acknowledges the complexity of the human person.  Different facets of the whole human person include heart, mind, body, and soul. These facets are highlighted in the following passage from Matthew 22:36-40.

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

[For the first commandment, Jesus quotes Deuteronomy 6:5 but replaces "strength" with "mind"].

Mind, body, heart, and soul are not well-defined, separate entities but inter-twined facets. For example, "heart" refers to our will, desires and inclinations. It is hard to separate this from the "mind".

We are a complex whole and cannot be reduced to just one dimension: genetics, physiology, personality, experience, social conditioning,...

If we accept this complexity of a human person and the presence of these different but interrelated facets, then it is natural that understanding the causes of mental illness and proposing action to prevent or cure it will also be complex and multi-faceted. We will never be sure we really do understand.

For two thousand years, philosophers have debated the mind-body problem, which is now being addressed in cognitive science. In spite of many advances, there is no clear philosophical or scientific consensus on the relationship between the body, brain, mind, and consciousness.

Another dimension to Biblical anthropology is the social. A human person is not an isolated individual who can be defined independently of their social context. Rather, a human is part of a family, community, and nation. The person is also defined by a network of relationships. The emphasis of Western modernity on individualism and postmodernity on the "authentic self" conflicts with the anthropology of the Bible and almost all times and places outside the past four hundred years of the Western world. Mental health needs to be addressed within relational and social contexts.

I now introduce one model for a person. It is discussed in the book, Mental Health and Your Church: a Handbook for Biblical Care, by Helen Thorne and Steve Midgley. I recently encountered the model at a one-day seminar given by Midgley in Brisbane.

I introduce the model with the caveat that, as a scientist, I consider that all models are wrong, but some are useful. I think this also applies to models in theology.

A human person is created by and lives in the presence of the Triune God. The Word of God and the Spirit of God can speak to the heart of the person, changing their sinful, wicked, rebellious, and hard state to one that is oriented towards the desires of God. But the heart is not some abstract, free-floating essence. My heart is embodied. My heart and mind are intimately connected to my physical brain, which is also part of my physical body. My mind and brain have been conditioned and moulded, for better or worse, by my experience living in my body. Stress, trauma, and addictions have an effect. Relaxation, sleep, diet, and habits can heal and train my body. Furthermore, my body is also embedded in a social context. These are my circumstances: family, housing, school, church, workplace, neighbourhood, and nation.

There are several competing models of mental illness, and I have reviewed them in this post. The current dominant model in the secular world is the biomedical model. However, I would consider that these models are complementary, and we need a multi-faceted model, nicely captured in the figure below.

[Figure from Sanctuary Mental Health ministries]

Three of these models [biomedical, psychological, and social] are promoted by people who may not be Christian and do not operate from a Christian theological framework. However, the models can be valuable for understanding and treating mental illness, due to the doctrine of common grace. Thus, there is a role for drugs and counselling.

Human diversity. Paul uses the metaphor of the human body to describe the church. It is the body of Christ, his living presence in the world. Like a human body, there are many members. They are not all the same. They have different purposes, gifts, and functions. The weaker members are indispensable. This means that those who struggle with mental illness are indispensable members of a church. They are not a burden that has to be carried. They are not a problem that has to be solved. They are not a distraction from the "more important" work of preaching and evangelism. They are indispensable. The whole body grieves with them, walks with them, and celebrates them. Christ's power is made perfect in weakness.

Acknowledging human diversity is also important to understand and to treat mental illness. On the one hand, we are all made in the image of God. We are all sinners. We all have the same biology. On the other hand, Paul acknowledges a diversity of backgrounds, life histories (calling), and gifts. This diversity means there are no "one-size-fits-all" answers to mental illness.

Finally, the concept of the "powers of this age" is helpful to understand the causes of mental illness, and particularly its proliferation in the modern world. Massive power struggles are going on. Some are clearly visible. Others are not. Forces such as globalisation, capitalism, and autocracy unleash ideologies and technologies that undermine good mental health. Mobile phones, social media, junk food, consumerism, secularism, movies, television, internet, alcohol and drugs are not just neutral. They are tools for some people to gain inordinate amounts of power and money, with no regard for human flourishing. These powers need to be resisted, from the individual to the global level.