Recently I have read many articles and letters in my daily newspaper about the state of the mental health of the population of the United Kingdom. There are wide ranging views on the subject, a lot of them well informed but diverse in their conclusions. I wonder if we are talking ourselves into a worse problem than is necessary. That is not to play down mental health issues but to play up what we all could do about it, to help, at our level. Read on and I will try to explain what I mean.
It is four years since I celebrated Maundy Thursday Communion in our dining room and was joined by people in their homes, all wanting to make the best of the isolation of those early days of the first lockdown in 2020. How artificial it all seems with hindsight and yet at the time we were serious in our endeavours to share as best we could, what is normally one of the most poignant services of the year.
At the Last Supper, Jesus broke bread and shared the cup, putting in place the mechanism by which we still share in the outpouring of his love in obedience as a he sacrificed his life for us all. On the same occasion he washed the feet of his disciples, include those of Judas Iscariot who, a little while later, would betray him by handing him over to be arrested, sentenced, and killed. The chapter of Saint John’s Gospel that records the foot washing goes on to predict the denial of Peter; but it also reminds readers that sharing love is what marks out and sets apart the disciples of Jesus, the Church. John 13:34-35 – ‘A new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples if you love one another.’
As life revolves increasingly round electronic communication and social media, we move further away from the sheer physicality of touching people to show love (and I do not mean in an erotic way). It is reasonable to assume that those in the Upper Room at the Last Supper will have sensed the atmosphere and emotion of the moment. However erratically some of them behaved subsequently, the moment bound them together in a way that energised them for all that was to follow and to talk about Jesus for the remainder of their lives. Most of them had their lives shortened because of the risks they ran in talking as they did.
People now seem to think they thrive on the new isolation; communicating more than ever we are further apart than we have ever been from those who should be nearest and have not noticed our isolation. How I regret what lockdown did to the lives of our Churches (despite the positive spin put on it by supporters of digital church – I was and am one of them!). How much more could we do for one another and the mental health of all if we spent more time feeling emotion and looking into the eyes of those near us.
Need often looks out disguised as anger, fear hides a desperation for love; the poignancy of Holy Communion on this extraordinary day is that it draws together people in their emotional vulnerability to heal them with spiritual love flowing from the heart of the Saviour down through time, by touch and simply being together to break bread a share wine.
Why would such sharing not alleviate a raft of mental health troubles with a bit of de-mystifying and paring back to the bone: ‘love one another.’
A Prayer
Ever present and supportive God, help me to be honest about the need for proximity and to know the strength of emotional connection that comes from being together with people joined by the common bond of knowing you satisfy needs that are otherwise unmet.
Thank you for all that this day means for us and for your unique self-giving love that can heal us in ways we otherwise cannot hope to know. Love me Lord, for Jesus’s sake. Amen.