Deconstruction, the Gospel and the Social World of Young People (Part Two)
Andrew Boakye, PhD.
Feb 9, 2026
*****Trigger Warning*****Trigger Warning***** Trigger Warning***** Trigger Warning.
This post deals with mental health and makes references to addictions, suicide and various forms of social anxiety. Please read with the requisite caution and do not read if the sensitive nature of the issues is likely to cause harm or distress.
It is generally the case that I approach writing on this platform with great trepidation, especially when I feel like I am out of my intellectual depth or commenting on things I am not particularly qualified to appraise. The trepidation dial has never been so high as with this particular topic, for which there are varied reasons beyond my general lack of material qualification.
Firstly, I am not convinced that anyone understands the issues surrounding mental well-being in young people sufficiently. There is a sliding scale of mental health across all ages and for several reasons. Although various traumatic experiences in my own life have tested the boundaries of my own mental balance, I have, broadly speaking been able to weather challenges, and that is something I almost entirely put down to the very stable upbringing that I had. Quite precisely because anybody’s ability to deal with trauma will have been shaped by so many interlocking factors, diagnosing mental imbalance is always slightly precarious.
Secondly, there has been a very significant shift in the way different generations perceive of and navigate their mental health. I think it is somewhat cavalier to simply say that older generations were more resilient; it is far more likely to be the case that older generations simply suffered in silence because societies lacked the requisite vocabulary and even expertise to address trauma - some of which only became manifest for some people much later in life. However, the statement is not completely without meaning. I do think it is the case that later generations have become more anaesthetized, isolated and protected, and are, therefore, far less capable of handling challenges with resilience. Even very simple things like outdoor play, climbing frames and the like, which many of us Generation Xers grew up with, have in recent years been deemed dangerous and have disappeared. It may well be the case that the rationale for so doing was intelligent but, certainly from my own experience, the scrapes, burns and breakages from rough and tumble play did not destroy us. Indeed, they had quite the opposite effect, and I don’t think my testimony is unique. I think there is some truth in the idea that the over sanitization of young life and its virtual complete transportation to the world of screens, media and virtual/contrived reality have had the unforeseen effect of immunising young people from reality. Once more, there are persuasive arguments on both sides of this debate contributing to the overall difficulty of writing about it.
Thirdly, human societies have developed a very sophisticated lexicon for talking about mental health and well-being. Words like “depression” and “anxiety” only had colloquial purchase when I was growing up. If something which caused me great sadness happened, I could say I was depressed about it without meaning that I suffered from a particular clinical condition. Similarly, if I had important exams coming up, I might say that I was anxious; but anxiety was simply considered a temporary emotion related to a particular event and was not a clinical condition for which people required treatment. The very drastic global changes in the socio-political landscape over the last 40 years have almost certainly contributed to the heightened levels of social anxiety young people face today compared to my own heady teenage and very young adult years. This territory is complex; I would again be very cautious about saying, in very cavalier fashion, that older generations were just less anxious because they were more stable and more resilient, without thinking carefully about the social worlds we inhabited when we were young.
Fourthly, there are very clear and obvious medical and clinical components to mental well-being and some which are far more social, developmental, spiritual and psychological. These ideas exist distinctly, but far from mutually exclusively. The medical, clinical and psychiatric components of mental well-being should only be broached by trained professionals. Even the more social and developmental component of mental well-being should not be addressed in simplistic or blasé fashion. The capacity for great harm to be done by careless and off-handed spiritual counselling to people who have impaired mental well-being is too enormous a risk to take. This is a context within which the church should be as non-adversarial as possible in its relationship with secular institutions. Similarly in this regard, doctors, psychiatrists, social workers and secular counsellors should never marginalise or underestimate the importance of spirituality for mental stability. For the sake of any community’s well-being, stakeholders in mental health, whether religious or secular, must be prepared to drop their defences and work collaboratively for the sake of our young folk.
There are several key questions to think through here – far too many to address in a single post and some of which require entire volumes worth of thought and consideration. As such, I want to ensure that my objectives with this post are as modest and manageable as possible. I really only want to ask one question – one which I think would be most pertinent to the overall objective of navigating Christ-centred deconstruction. That question is simply this: What is the role of the Church when it comes to encouraging positive and sturdy mental well-being in young people? We may surmise that the church ought to (at very least) comfort those suffering from poor mental health, hunt out those who feel estranged from divine love and point people to competent, trained mental health specialists as need arises. We will attempt to splice these ideas below.
According to the Baker Encyclopaedia of Psychology & Counselling, several authors have argued that preventing mental disorders should be a concern of the church. Indeed, Tan (citing Uomoto) postulates that the church is uniquely placed in this regard because of its “proximity in the community, its independent financial set-up, its consistency in providing a stable social environment, and its mission to enhance the physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being of its members”. [S.-Y Tan, “Prevention of Psychological Disorders,” in D. G. Benner & P. C. Hill (Eds.), Baker Encyclopaedia of Psychology & Counselling (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic Books, 1999), 905].
Another commentator puts it like this:
The local church is in a very strategic location in the mental health field… Consider the incalculable societal and mental health benefits—both preventative and supportive—provided by an average local church to its members: the pastor as an on-call, “first responder” crisis resource; free counselling; a social support network; well-defined guidelines for living that prioritize love; material aid; and weekly meetings of celebration that focus people’s attention on a good, loving, powerful God… There is currently no comparable organization or institution in most communities that addresses such a range of mental health needs…[Eric L. Johnson, God & Soul Care: The Therapeutic Resources of the Christian Faith (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2017), 460–461].
Whether or not one completely agrees with Tan or Johnson above, it is perfectly clear that people attend churches for different social and religious reasons. Naturally, believing people want to encounter God within the context of a loving, Christ-centred community where they experience acceptance and belonging. However, beyond that, people, Christ-believing or otherwise, seek:
a) Identity and Formation: People, and especially young people, want to know who they are, why they are here and have a sense that they are maturing into some kind of purposeful existence.
b) Moral and Practical Guidance (especially where children are involved): Many are, of course, looking for social space, which is grounded in ethical propriety, where they can learn how to be moral agents in the various stations of life, from singlehood to marriage, to parenthood, etc.
c) Hope in Suffering and Crisis: Needless to say, life rarely observes the script, and we frequently find ourselves floundering, all at sea because of life’s numerous twists and turns, often unforeseen and rarely having straightforward remedies. Part of the beauty of a loving community is that even in these times, hope can abound.
d) Tradition, Rhythm, and Stability: My autistic son does not understand the deep, theological musings of the Christian story. However, he sings the worship songs with more enthusiasm than most, clearly appreciates the comfort of the familiar faces of people who patiently empathise with his neurodivergence and thrives with some predictability in the rhythms of church life (we are part of a small house church). Even neurotypical people, and especially those who may have, for one reason or another, gone off the rails at some point in life, often appreciate the tradition and stability that church community can provide.
e) Service and Purpose Beyond the Self: Most people at some stage in their young adult life become very conscious that there is something vacuous about endless self-indulgence and the financial rat race. They want to know that their labours are for something beyond the material. When the Christian narrative is clear in believing community, this kind of purpose beyond the self can be very nurturing.
One of the most important tasks for those in Christian leadership is to articulate how these above needs are central to a life informed by the Gospel. There will be some who attend church for the above reasons, but in a purely non-committal and even nonreligious way. You do not have to be religious or believe in the narrative or iconography of the Christian faith to seek stability, community and a sense of hope during times of conflict and suffering - these are fairly rudimentary human needs. Yet is this not the very heart of the Church’s mission? If these traits are on display because people believe in Jesus, then our lives tell the story of how God is putting His broken world back together again more than a sermon, study series, religious broadcast or any Christian literature.
In other words, one of the most pivotal roles that the Church plays in the provision of stable mental well-being amongst the young is the notion of spiritual family connection. You may remember on an earlier post I commented on some of the philosophy of Martin Heidegger, who bemoaned the disconnection that we feel as humans as one of the most central neuroses of his time. The passage of time has only deepened this trauma. Between social media, electronic communication, smart-phones and high-tech mobile gadgetry, we exist in the most “connected” era of human history — yet many will admit that they have never felt more alone.
People often report being lonely, that is lacking meaningful companionship – and worse still, this can be in contexts where people are physically surrounded by other people. Even those who would not claim to have few relationships feel disconnection – the sense that relationships are set against the clock, only based on a thin set of shared interests or are basically transactional. With that, can come dislocation; that loss or thinness of identity, belonging and rootedness.
Modern life, especially in the West, routinely sees people living among people without living with them. Since western capitalist societies are often designed around efficiency and productivity rather than relationship and connectivity, mobility over rootedness and individualism over interdependence, it is not uncommon to see people within groups, but still lonely. This is the seedbed for isolationism and impaired mental well-being; this is where the church must be a place of spiritual family connection that bucks the trend. Where people are self-authoring their identity, self-regulating their emotions and self-justifying their worth, the resultant isolationism can lead to impoverished mental health and often unhealthy pseudo-corrective habits to offset the emotional collateral damage. How many times have we heard the tale of the person being bullied online and thought to ourselves, “why don’t they just close down their social media accounts”? You can’t be bullied online if you are not online. Yet, increasing numbers of young people are finding themselves so embedded in virtual communities, that to leave feels like a kind of excommunication. If someone has an alcohol addiction, you cannot just tell them to stop drinking. If someone is painfully thin because of an eating disorder, commanding them to have a hamburger will not be helpful. How then, can churches respond?
1. Rethink the Meaning of Mission.
Hamley, Cook and Swinton argue:
Mission does not separate ‘life together’ from activities outside the Church but rather takes the whole of what it means to be the people of God and explores what their vocation is. This will have outworkings in every area of life, and every area of life contributes to the Church’s understanding of itself, of God, of human beings and of the world. Mission is not about defining an ‘us’ and a ‘them’ – this would risk falling into the kind of truncated relationships that lead people to caricature one another and not ‘see’ the full person. To think about mental health and the mission of the Church therefore is not to ask what the Church can do for/to those who struggle with mental health. It is not about separating people into groups of those who give and those who receive, those who are in need and those who are strong. Rather, it is about asking: what does it mean to be church together, to explore faith together and to share the love of God with those beyond the Church – whoever they are and whatever their circumstances? Mission therefore is something that all Christian people engage in, whoever they are and whatever their personal circumstances, in seeking to live as followers of Jesus Christ [Christopher C. H. Cook, Isabelle Hamley & John Swinton, Struggling with God: Mental Health and Christian Spirituality (London: SPCK, 2023), electronic version].
What the authors outline here is mission as exploration and journey. If mission is thought about in reductionist terms with phrases like “seeking and saving the lost” (which, given some of the church’s crimes, can even sound rather pompous) our discipleship is not holistic. What they refer to as seeing a full person, is not unlike Jesus’ dictum that he came to bring life in its abundance (John 10:10). People cannot be divided into their spiritual person and secular person; churches are not communities which ought to be divided into the weak and the strong, the spiritual and the unspiritual, the vocal and the introverted or other such unhelpful polarities. The person with mental health challenges is not an obstacle to be overcome so we can get to the real business of Christian ministry. He or she is a vital part of the family, often deserving of extra special attention – however, this attention is not a distraction from the ministry - it is the ministry. In Paul’s powerful ecclesiology of body in 1 Corinthians 12, he outlines that, “it is much truer that the parts of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary; 23 and those parts of the body which we consider less honourable, on these we bestow greater honour, and our less presentable parts become much more presentable, 24 whereas our more presentable parts have no need of it. But God has so composed the body, giving more abundant honour to that part which lacked, 25 so that there may be no division in the body, but that the parts may have the same care for one another” (1 Cor. 12:22–25). It is almost certain that Paul is referring to genitalia when he talks about the less presentable parts of the body. We would have no qualms displaying our hands or feet in public, but we typically refer to genitalia as “private” parts for precisely that reason - it would be dishonourable to display them publicly. He continues that this aspect of the designation of body parts is God’s design; it is God’s design that we give more abundant honour to the parts which naturally lack it. Those weaker parts of the Christian communion ought to have more honour bestowed upon them. This is, of course, completely in keeping with the context of 1 Corinthians, and Paul’s inversion of the celebration of high status, rank and honour. In caring for those with challenging mental health difficulties, we honour them so that they reflect the light of Christ as powerfully and with as much luminescence as anyone else. This ought to be our witness to the world of the all-embracing and all-powerful love of Jesus Christ.
2. Model and Teach Empathy and Compassion.
Empathy and compassion are key tenets of Christianity, and social scientists and mental health professionals emphasize the importance of empathy and compassion in fostering positive relationships and mental health. Unfortunately, many young people are not aware of the centrality of compassion to Christian religious teachings. We should model these behaviours in our interactions with others and teach them explicitly during religious instruction. This can help young people develop positive emotional skills and improve their relationships with others [Josh Packard, Faithful Futures: Sacred Tools for Engaging Younger Generations (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2025), 148].
In a deeply disturbing trend, which is making its way through right wing American Evangelicalism, empathy is being depicted as sinful. I have even heard people offer biblical justification from the Book of Revelation to the effect of Jesus originally came as a lamb, and there was a time to imitate that. He is, however, returning as a lion, and so Christians must imitate that side of Jesus character, which rules out empathy! When personal agendas have taken over the objectives of Jesus, the sheer circus of mind-numbingly bad biblical exegesis is truly a spectacle to behold!! The sentiments of the likes of Allie Beth Stuckey, author of Toxic Empathy: How Progressives Exploit Christian Compassion and Joe Rigney, who penned The Sin of Empathy: Compassion and Its Counterfeits, are fuelling the justification of what are fundamentally acts of cruelty perpetrated by people in public office in the United States. Even Vice President J. D. Vance, who as a Catholic couches his view in terms of the “order of love,” rather than the sin of empathy, vaunted himself as an amateur theologian when he told Fox News: “We should love our family first, then our neighbours, then love our community, then our country, and only then consider the interests of the rest of the world.” Quite where he sees this reflecting Jesus is, of course, anybody’s guess. Only if we, as Packard suggests above, as adult believers, embody empathy and compassion in our interactions will young people know that they are embedded in a community governed by the law of love, where mental well-being flourishes.
3. Normalise Mental Health Dialogue
I would at this juncture like to illustrate spiritual family connection by sharing a biblical reflection I posted on a social media site a few years ago, after a very popular “dating show” hostess very sadly took her own life. The post, virtually unchanged apart from a couple of fixes to my translation of 2 Corinthians 1, is below:
<<“Dearest family, we don’t want you to be in the dark about the tremendous hardships we faced when we landed in Turkey. We were so hopelessly weighed down, so far beyond our capacity to endure, that we despaired even of life itself. Yet even though we felt like we were wearing death itself as a necklace, it was only so we would resist the urge to think we knew it all and had everything sewn up. Instead, we would trust in the God who breathes life into the dead! He has rescued us from certain death before and He will rescue us again – and that’s why our hope rests in Him (2 Corinthians 1:8-10b, my translation). Whenever a suicide hits the headlines, time stands awkwardly still. Suicide is one of the most confusing, frustrating, saddening and fraught eventualities of the human condition. It unleashes a barrage of questions, most of which have unsatisfying answers, and none of which get us any closer to what goes through a person’s mind the moment before they take their own life. There is no direct indication of what trauma Paul refers to in the beginning of 2 Corinthians which caused him and his co-missionaries so much distress. It could refer to an episode related by Luke in the Acts of the Apostles or an incident which has simply gone unreported. In any event, it is abundantly clear that Paul did not want his audience to be ignorant of what happened and, more importantly by all accounts, what it made him feel. One can barely sidestep the hopelessness in Paul’s voice; he conveys a sense of being hemmed in, out of ideas, blind-sighted, despairing and empty. For the Stoic school of philosophy, ending your own life was a rational option to despair; what we see in Paul here is perhaps the route to an alternative. Firstly, Paul did not want the Corinthians to be in the dark about his hardships. Somehow, sharing the trauma meant something. Secondly observe how Paul writes in first person plurals (just count up the uses of ‘we’, ‘us’ and ‘our’ in the text). A well-known West African proverb dictates “if you want to go quickly, go alone; if you want to go far, go together”. There is a mutuality and common sharing of these hardships which Paul feels duty bound to relay. Thirdly, as much as I champion introspection, trouble made Paul look outwards. It is not that the Apostle was coy about his emotional stamina, religious credentials or argumentative faculties. Rather, it is that he was painfully aware of his human limitations and frailties. Not all people embrace a supernatural God to whom they can turn, but all should acknowledge that the resources to persevere often lay outside of us; and admitting that should never be a source of shame. Often time the greatest pain is the one that only the sufferer truly knows about. The tragic irony is that the pain is only exacerbated by the loneliness of dealing with it. As a Christian, turning to the God who breathes revitalising energy and renewed hope into the barrenness of despair is my first port of call when I feel hemmed in and empty. Yet, even for those who do not believe in or relate to such a God, Paul still speaks a critical message: “Do not let those around you be in the dark about the tremendous hardships that you face”. That much, at very least, we owe to ourselves”.>>
There can sometimes, even inadvertently or subconsciously, be a certain religious pomposity about mental health issues. I have heard religiously minded people effectively argue that Christians can’t possibly suffer with poor mental health and, if they do, that it is somehow indicative of impoverished spirituality. Not only does this run roughshod over the experience of many of God’s people who reached mental breaking point (Job, Paul in the above example in 2 Corinthians, the Psalmist in several contexts, etc.) but it drives an artificial wedge between our often fragile lived realities and a kind of imagined religious utopia emerging from the expectation that Christianity should confer bliss (we see it in the prosperity gospel and in forms of competitive discipleship). As Stanford correctly notes:
Stigma and shame are barriers that keep suffering individuals from receiving the care and support they need to recover. It is the responsibility of the clergy and ministry staff to educate the congregation that the church is a safe place to discuss our problems, including mental illness [Matthew S. Stanford, Grace for the Afflicted: A Clinical and Biblical Perspective on Mental Illness (Downers Grove, Il: IVP, 2017), 256].
In contexts where it is considered “unspiritual” to talk about mental health, an unhealthy disconnect with the world which most people occupy is disturbingly bred. Some of the most crippling social and even familial disconnect in churches is evident in a deep-rooted reluctance to allow hurt, failures, trauma or loss to obscure the veneer of the perfect Christian family. It is in these contexts that typically discipleship is marked and even stimulated by shame, guilt and fear. Within any Christian household, you might find people struggling with anxiety issues, depression, all manner of marital challenges, parental concerns, unplanned teenage pregnancies, drug use, domestic violence and the like. Undoubtedly, each of these are symptomatic of failure, trauma or both. However, they are the cut and thrust of life in the world gone wrong. If families facing such challenges are simply labelled as “unspiritual” or those who have not correctly followed the Christian script, or have not prayed enough or given enough, then the gospel has simply failed to launch. Once more, our Christological lenses need sharpening. Jesus did not stand aloof from our trauma and judgmentally assert his stainless holiness over it. He immersed himself in our trauma and lovingly poured his perfect compassion upon it. Our remit is not ambiguous - be like Jesus and choose compassion! Normalise church discussion about the challenges to mental health that domestic trauma brings so that we can become communities of healing. When Jesus taught that we would do even greater deeds than his own (John 14: 12), he did not mean that we would somehow have greater miraculous power than his (as if that were possible)! Rather, he meant that as broken and flawed beings, we would, empowered by Him through the Spirit do what he did and bring healing and comfort to many despite our brokenness. For Jesus, this was all in a day’s work! For sinful human beings to replicate this, is to do an even greater thing than Jesus!
4. Demonstrate the Connection between Healthy Spirituality and Good Mental Health.
In his 2012 review paper, Harold Koenig set out to comprehensively review research on religion/spirituality and both mental health and physical health. He surveyed the original data-based quantitative research published in peer-reviewed journals between 1872 and 2010, including a few seminal articles published since 2010 [Harold G. Koenig, “Religion, Spirituality, and Health: The Research and Clinical Implications,” International Scholarly Research Notices 278730 (2012): 1–33]. His conclusions have been virtually unanimously confirmed by specialists across disciplines:
Religious/spiritual beliefs and practices are commonly used by both medical and psychiatric patients to cope with illness and other stressful life changes. A large volume of research shows that people who are more religious or spiritual have better mental health and adapt more quickly to health problems compared to those who are less religious/spiritual… The research findings, a desire to provide high-quality care, and simply common sense, all underscore the need to integrate spirituality into patient care [Koenig, “Religion, Spirituality and Health,” 16].
I agree with Cook et al that:
To be a Christian is to look to Jesus as the model of what being a whole person is all about. We have got used to thinking that Jesus was a spiritual teacher and that mental health is something that belongs to medical professionals, and that the two are quite different. While there might be some truth in this, we have created too much of a gulf between the two. Spiritual and mental wellbeing are all a part of the same picture of human flourishing, and Jesus’ life and teaching reflected that [Cook et al, Struggling with God, electronic version].
Part of the difficulty in making this theological conclusion pragmatic is the somewhat amorphous nature of ‘spirituality’ in much modern discourse. In some of my recent work thinking about spirituality in Ephesians, (which the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge once called the ‘divinest composition of man’), it occurred to me that readers do not have to skirt around the landscape to know what spirituality is in Ephesians. It pertains quite clearly to three things: The nature of the non-material over the material, that which pertains to the Holy Spirit and the notion of the interior life. I think this is a good general headline for the pursuit of Christian spirituality. Our tradition has a number of disciplines - most notably, prayer, fasting, Scripture reading, meditation, worshipful singing, confession and fellowship. Salubrious mental health is not the goal of practicing any of the above, but it is almost an inevitable outcome when these practices are taught and nurtured as pathways to connecting with the Divine Trinity. If these things simply become a robotic checklist by which someone may declare that they have ‘done their Christianity for the day’, then I daresay it will probably have the opposite effect on one’s mental well-being! However, when engaged in any of the above with a view to hearing the voice of the Spirit, knowing the sacrificial heart of Christ and basking in the overwhelming love of God, the positive effects on the heart, mind and soul are unmistakable. I want to suggest one avenue for pursuing this kind of connection with the divine - a form of Ignatian spirituality which I have recently practised in the house church to which I belong - lectio divina or ‘divine reading’. Whilst there is no precise formula for practising lectio divina, it effectively involves deeply contemplative reading, reflection and meditation upon Scripture. Its is a way of:
…inclining the ears of the heart to listen to the word of the God with both attention and a willingness “to be read by it.” In lectio divina, the contemplative anticipates a deep encounter with God who comes to us in the words of Scripture. This ancient practice has four movements:
(1) lectio or reading/listening to God through the Scriptures.
(2) meditatio or meditating upon the text, letting it speak to us freely and wholly until it becomes part of us.
(3) oratio or verbal prayer in which we are in loving conversation with God who “spoke the word” to us for our nourishment and transformation.
(4) contemplatio or contemplation where we rest in silence before God, simply being with God in peace and adoration.
[Rolf Nolasco Jr., The Contemplative Counselor: A Way of Being (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011), 113–114].We employed the following approach (most recently based on Psalm 34).
Have someone read the passage out loud, slowly - listen intently, savouring every word. Latch onto a particular word, phrase, or idea; dwell upon it, recite it, memorise it. Have the passage read again, once more thinking about the word, phrase or idea from the first reading, and consider how it touches your life, speaks to your present circumstances or evokes a memory. After a third reading, consider what response it might invoke. Allow these thoughts and reflections to develop into prayer in any posture that feels right. The peace, unity, understanding and wholeness that this brought to our group - most of whom were facing serious life challenges of one kind or another – was supernatural.
5. Model Unconditional Acceptance
Myers says it best:
The Christian gospel offers unconditional acceptance. For those struggling with self-esteem, Christian faith offers good news: The universe has a Creator who became human to demonstrate unconditional love for each of us. No longer do we need to define our self-worth by our achievements, our possessions, or others’ approval. We need only accept that we are accepted [David G. Myers, “Who’s Happy? Who’s Not?” Christianity Today 36:14 (1992): 26, emphasis added].
I fear that in my past I have been insensitive to people’s very visceral need for acceptance and belonging. Studies have even shown that low self-value significantly contributes to alcoholism, social anxiety, depression and violence [M. H. Guindon, “What is Self-esteem?” in M. H. Guindon (ed.), Self-esteem Across the Lifespan (New York & Hove: Routledge, 2010), 3)].
I grew up in a loving family and although I have always been something of a loner and more energised by solitude than by company, having a sense of acceptance and self-worth has never really been a problem for me. As someone who is very comfortable with solitude, what has become increasingly clear to me is that the kind of acceptance that is most conducive for good mental balance and well-being, is divine acceptance.
Human acceptance metrics always have conditions and strings attached and, of course, can only be offered by people with their own flaws, problems and shortcomings. I am reminded of the words of Paul Ritchie, who writes as from his experience as a Christian minister struggling with depression, anxiety and O.C.D.:
If you have grown up in a harsh and legalistic church, you may struggle to believe that your life shows enough evidence of having been born again. You may tend to always notice your failures and yet be blind to anything good that God is doing in your life [Paul Ritchie, Is It Unspiritual to Be Depressed? Loved by God in the Midst of Pain (Fearn: Ross-shire, Christian Focus, 2022), 70].
Divine acceptance comes from the perfect Creator and does not come with a list of hurdles you have to jump to prove yourself worthy. As Jocelyn Bryan notes:
The love and acceptance of God for every human being is woven in Scripture. Being accepted and having a sense of belonging is significant for self-worth. Isolation, stigmatization, loneliness and rejection all lower self-esteem and are associated with mental health problems. They are echoed in the cries of the psalmist in the stories of desertion and persecution and answered in the narrative of the faithfulness of God to his people and in the narrative of the cross. The spiritual struggle is often to accept and claim the truth of the narrative of God’s forgiveness, acceptance and love and in that discover the bedrock of self-esteem [Jocelyn Bryan, “Narrative, Meaning Making and Mental Health,” in C. C. H. Cook and I. Hamley (eds) The Bible and Mental Health: Towards a Biblical Theology of Mental Health (London: SCM Press, 2020), 46].
Inferences for Christ Centred Deconstruction.
26 Eight days later His disciples were again inside, and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, the doors having been shut, and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be to you.” 27 Then He said to Thomas, “Place your finger here, and see My hands; and take your hand and put it into My side; and do not continue in disbelief, but be a believer.” 28 Thomas answered and said to Him, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:26–28).
I have been deeply intrigued and fascinated by the Gospel accounts of the resurrection appearances for many years and for many reasons. This one is particularly pertinent to our foray into the church’s role in good mental health amongst young people. We do not have time to explore the various readings of Jesus’ appearance to Thomas in John 20 - including whether or not Thomas actually put his hand in Jesus side and, if so doing, would have exhibited unbelief. However, Jesus did beckon him to see his hands. The natural conclusion is that the marks of the passion – the crucifixion and the piercing of John 19:34 – were still visible. However, this is the risen Jesus - Jesus is now embodied with the substance of the new age, that which Paul calls incorruptible and eternal (1 Cor. 15:35–49). How then, could Jesus still bear the marks of earthly imperfection in his resurrected self? Eiesland, a disabled theologian reflecting on the meaning of this for a theology of disability writes:
“What is the significance of the resurrected Christ’s display of impaired hands and feet and side? Are they the disfiguring vestiges of sin? Are they to be subsumed under the image of Christ, death conqueror? Or should the disability of Christ be understood as the truth of incarnation and the promise of resurrection?” [Nancy L. Eiesland, The Disabled God: Toward a Liberatory Theology of Disability (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), 101].
I close with these musings for as I think about deconstructing some of the scaffolding of modern Christianity, it strikes me that the church’s difficulty in reconnecting those who have drifted because of their doubts can often be related to a false notion of Christian perfectionism. We put our faith in Christ, we get baptised and we decide to live for Him. As such, our lives should shine and glow and we should certainly not struggle and wrestle with the difficulties the rest of the world does. Indeed, if we do, is this not evidence of our subpar Christ faith? Yet the repeated biblical witness is that imperfection and failure was the purchase of everyone who attempted to follow God. Everybody, religious or not, repeats the mantra “Nobody is perfect”. Intuitively, we know it to be true, but practically we live as if it is not. Practically, failure brings embarrassment; if as believing parents our children are not believers, it is a source of shame in the church. If we hold positions of authority in the church, and our children do not believe, we are ripe for demotion (of course, the question of positions of authority in the Church is itself fraught)! If we struggle with compromised mental health, it is a stain on our spirituality and, for some, seen even as evidence of sin.
Yet Jesus carried the wounds of his humanity into resurrected eternity. This did not make his resurrected body imperfect but rather marked it with the perfect imperfection of humanity. As ambassadors of the risen Jesus, we are responsible to reflect on him and realise that true humanity is perfect imperfection. Someone who struggles with mental imbalance is no less made in the image of God than someone who does not. Christians with mental health challenges are not problems to be solved or obstacles to be overcome, but expressions of the divine image which refract the light of God differently. Indeed, no two people will express God in their life in the same way. How someone with impaired mental health reflects God is unique and beautiful as long as the community of believers is willing to see it. If we are willing to see the marks of crucifixion in the risen Christ, then we know that divinity is not the shedding of humanity, but the perfect embrace of it. Once this comes into focus, we stop hunting for perfect lives and give praise to the perfect God. We stop making a hierarchy of abilities within the Church, and acknowledge that all our roles are different, equal and vital.
The church’s role in promoting good mental health in our young people is to journey into the embodiment of Christ and so become a community of acceptance, belonging, and healing, that reflects divine love into the world. There are enough arenas in our social world where we open the door only to face a barrage of judgments - how we look, what we earn, where we live and who we know. When the doors of the church open, it should not be to a barrage of equivalent judgments - are your children believers? How quickly is your church growing? How much money has your group raised? How high-tech are your services? How perfect are your families? When the doors of the church open, everyone without exception should hear some iteration of “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is comfortable, and My burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30). When the church becomes this kind of community, it will proclaim the crucified and risen Jesus as Lord to the glory of God the Father and for the hope of human redemption.
