Article
Care
Culture
Mental Health
3 min read

Separating mind and body still stigmatises mental health

Our minds and bodies are meant to be inseparable.

Rachael is an author and theology of mental health specialist. 

 

 

Two bird sit on wires facing in opposite directions.
Eduardo Soares on Unsplash.

I recently had a somewhat surreal experience whilst trying to get two consultants to agree to some treatment I needed to have.  

One was a cardiologist, the other a psychiatrist - both consultants, working in the same geographical area - and I found, to my surprise, that there was no recourse for my physical health records to be viewed by the psychiatrist and vice versa.  

And as I went through the process of trying to mediate between these two professionals, it made me reflect that whilst in theory there is agreement that our minds and our bodies are one and that they cannot be treated wholly separately, the reality is something rather different.  

Mental and physical health problems are, in fact, treated as entirely separate entities, with different trusts and funding models in place to deliver care and treatment for mental illness and physical illness.  

Now, there is probably a bureaucratic reason for this, but I believe it uncovers a perhaps unconscious belief that our minds and bodies are distant relatives at best, and not only that, but our mental health is still the poorer relation - best ignored unless it’s particularly bothersome.  

I think this separation sits at the heart of the stigma that mental health problems still face - a stigma that persists even in the mental health system. It has ancient roots. Go back to ancient Greece and its philosophers. They held to a  doctrine where the body and soul were completely separate - our bodies are simply houses for our souls. In a way, the stigma that exists about mental health is the inverse of this- that our minds are less important than our physical bodies and that caring for mental health always comes second to caring for physical health. 

Yet, also in those ancient times, the Bible's treatment of humanity shows that we are creations of mind, body, and soul—all equal, beloved, and cared for by God. In Mark’s gospel, we read that the command to love God and one another is multi-faceted: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” To love one another, then, means we need to care for one another’s mental health as well as physical health and strength, as we love with our minds and bodies. 

In truth, we cannot care well for ourselves or one another without considering both our mental and physical health. To ignore the mental strain of physical illnesses like cancer, and ignore the physical pains that mental illnesses cause, such as their effects on digestion and blood pressure, is to ignore significant parts of people's suffering.  

In the Old Testament of the Bible there is the story of Elijah, one of the great prophets who flees from a murderous ruler and, whilst spiritually and physically exhausted, begs God for death. “I have had enough, LORD,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.” 

These are words of desperation that echo those who struggle with their mental health, and God’s reply to Elijah’s pain is to meet him with an encounter with an angel who urges him to sleep and eat, comforting him with the words “the journey is too much for you”. There is no reprimand for Elijah’s suffering, simply comfort for a tortured mind and provision for an exhausted body. 

The answer, then, is to treat ourselves and others as the embodied creations we are, with mind and body inseparable and interconnected in ways that even science cannot quite explain or articulate.  

The answer is to trust in the embodied hope of Christ, who chose to save us through not only his bodily crucifixion and resurrection, but through experiencing the breadth and depth of human emotions so that we may never again feel alone in them. 

Both our bodies and our minds matter to God, and we need to see that reflected in society, where we care not just for single ailments, but the whole person. We need not just an awareness of our minds, but an understanding of what it means to be mentally healthy, as well as a recognition of the horrors of mental illness. Only then, I believe, can we see a society which cares and serves those most in need not simply as isolated symptoms, but as valuable creations.  

Article
Culture
Film & TV
4 min read

Why we rewatch The Lord of The Rings each year

Great quotes, powerful themes, stir memories.

Steve is news director of Article 18, a human rights organisation documenting Christian persecution in Iran.

Two hobbits gaze at something.
New Line Cinema.

Every January for the past 15 years, my wife and I have re-watched The Lord of The Rings trilogy. Not the extended version, but, still, it’s a lot of hours to have committed to re-watching every year.  

So, why do we do it?  

Well, principally I suppose it’s simply because we believe the films to be excellent - arguably the best ever screen adaptation of a work of fiction - but I also think it's because the story has so much to teach us about real life.  

After watching them so many times, I can now quote most of the script, yet I still struggle to pick my favourite bits; there are just too many. 

From Samwise Gamgee’s speech about the greatest stories - those that “meant something” - being ones where “the chief characters had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going, because they were holding on to something … that there’s some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for”. 

To Gandalf’s encouragement to Peregrine Took, when the hobbit senses that he is about to meet his maker, of what follows after we die: that death is not the end, it’s “just another path; one that we all must take”, and how “the grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver and glass, and then you see it … white shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise”. 

“That's not so bad,” Pippin replies, and of course, he’s right. 

Aside from the great quotes - and, trust me, there are many more I could mention - there’s also the way in which the breadth of human emotions and frailties are so perfectly depicted, such as our susceptibility to temptation, and how it can sometimes make us act in a manner that, as Frodo says of Boromir when he tries to rob him of the ring, is not like ourself.  

It is also encouraging to see how both the powerful and the meek - Gandalf and Samwise - are equally prone to temptation’s pull. 

The depth of friendships enjoyed by the hobbits is also a joy to behold, shining a light on that rarest gift of close friendship, while the films are kept mercifully free of anything smutty; on the contrary, they feel perfectly pure. 

And there is even the compulsory happy ending, with good triumphing over evil and the dragons being thrown down by the eagles in an apocalyptic scene worthy of the Book of Revelation. 

The author, J.R.R. Tolkien was a Catholic who served in both world wars, so it is hardly surprising that religious imagery can be found throughout, as well as glimpses into the ghastliest realities of war. 

One of the religious themes is the power of the weak to shame the strong, with the little hobbits - described as “the most unlikely creature imaginable” to have discovered the ring after it abandoned Gollum - ultimately being hailed as the saviours of Middle Earth and told by the new King of Gondor that they need “bow to no-one”. 

As Gandalf puts it, “even the smallest person can change the course of the future”. 

Meanwhile, everyone - even the trees, wonderfully portrayed as walking, talking “Ents” - have a part to play, with Merry lambasting them for initially deciding not to fight by saying: “But you’re part of this world, aren’t you?”  

As he says to his friend Pippin, should the fires of Isengard spread, “there won’t be any Shire” for them to return to. 

But the moment that really gets me, every time I watch it, comes at the very end, when - *spoiler alert* - Frodo speaks of feeling unable to return to normal life after such a big adventure. 

As someone who has had a few adventures of my own in the past - albeit none quite so fraught with danger - I can relate strongly to that sensation of coming home again and being overwhelmed by the feeling that nothing has changed, while at the same time believing that within myself, so much has.  

I often think back to the time my dear parents picked my wife and I up from the airport, a decade ago now, after we’d just flown back from Alaska having hitchhiked there from Argentina, and they spent the car journey updating us on the lives of my cousins. Not that I didn't want to hear their news; only that, at that moment, it felt as though there might be something else worth discussing. 

I think of that moment every time I watch the films’ denouement, and resonate with Frodo’s words when he says the Shire has been saved, but not for him; that some wounds from the past “run too deep” for the “threads of an old life” to be picked up again. 

But beyond the fantastic quotes and all 'The Lord of the Rings' has to teach us about life, the three films are also all simply a fantastic watch, which, if you haven't already, I would urge you to make the time for, and if you have, I would encourage you to do so again, even if you don't do it every year. 

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