A sermon preached by The Revd. Dr. Gillian Straine at St Paul’s Church Knightsbridge on 21st April 2024
Among European countries, the UK is a relatively poor, sick country with some rich , healthy people.
NHS and the whole of society must act on social determinants of health for a healthier future
BMJ 2024; 385
This is a direct quotation from an article published in the British Medical Journal earlier this month
I won’t lie, it is a pretty depressing read.
It reports that health in the UK is in decline, due to, among other factors, austerity, covid, lack of investment in the NHS, and the ‘unexpected abolition’ (I am quoting again) of Public health England in 2020.
It’s a hefty report, but the summary is this: we are living shorter and less healthy lives.
But I don’t really mean ‘we’
Life expectancy and healthy life expectancy are closely linked to deprivation: the greater the deprivation, the shorter the life expectancy. Those living in deprived areas spend more of their shorter lives in poor health.
I run a small health and faith charity called GoHealth and I spent much of my time, one way or another, talking about an holistic approach to health, that mind, body and soul are interrelated, and that we find flourishing in our life through taking seriously our spiritual health especially when facing mental or physical problems. I am utterly dedicated to it, there is science to back it up, and no shortage of stories of transformation in lives and in communities. Indeed, there is a wellbeing week in May at St Pauls including an exciting program of events and practices for us all to get involved with. It’s all good.
But reading this paper has really brought me up short – what in my approach can answer this need, what is it that we offer in the church that can address this amount of pain.
At risk of depressing you further, let me just hone in on a phrase in the report that has stuck with me, one that I can’t stop thinking about.
Let me quote again from the section talking about life spans in the UK:
“Over time, in more and more groups, health has worsened and lives have been shortened, including a rise in deaths of despair in middle age…these are the deaths, particularly within groups of vulnerable, socioeconomically deprived, individuals—particularly men—in response to the well-documented changes in the social, economic and political context
Deaths of despair – it is an unexpected poetic phrase, I thought, in the midst of an analytical paper.
Before the NHS and the sceintific revolution, it was the church that largely provided healthcare. The scholar Amanda Porterfield who I am chatting with on our podcast later this month labels Christianity as a religion of healing. We have a history of doing this that goes right back through the monastic houses of the middle ages, with their study and practice of medicine from the greek philosophical texts that they cared for in their great libraries. It goes back further to the early Christians we who took their lead from Jesus who spent much of his ministry healing.
We heard about the healthcare origins of our faith in one of today’s readings:
8 Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them, “Rulers of the people and elders, 9 if we are being questioned today because of a good deed done to someone who was sick and are being asked how this man has been healed,[d] 10 let it be known to all of you, and to all the people of Israel, that this man is standing before you in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,[e] whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead
The deaths from despair that the report highlights are almost certainly ones that are surrounded by complex landscape of deprivation, loss, disappointment, and lack of fulfilment.
But I think many of us skirt the shores of despair at times, if we are honest. I know that I have. Indeed, it is hard not to despair just a little bit when we think about the middle east, or Ukraine, or the climate emergency. Even just reading about or hearing about situations around the world, or indeed on our doorstep, can have an impact on our wellbeing and mental health as we connect into the suffering and pain. So, what do we have in our arsenal of christian theology, worship and practice to help us cope with the pain we either know, or the pain that we see in the world. Let’s turn to science for some support.
I recently recorded a podcast with a US pain specialist Prof Amy Wachholtz exploring complex pain and how spiritual approaches can help reduce pain.
Amy shared stories about working alongside medical doctors when treating people with addiction to alcohol and drugs, those with difficult to cure pain, often back pain or migraines, or those with complex pain.
Fascinatingly, she has seen multiples case of people with the same apparent physical pain issue, but where the drugs only work well with some people. In her experience, she has found that if the source of the pain is just physical, then the drugs work well. But if the patient has other sources of pain such as stress, loneliness, a relationship problem or grief, for example, then the drugs are less likely to work – why? Well, our bodies are intimately connected to our emotional and spiritual lives – the reason the drugs sometimes don’t work so well, is that they are not treating the root of the pain. If the person in physical pain, is also suffering from emotional or spiritual pain, then other therapies and therapists might be as important as the drugs. If the source of the suffering is for example grief, or lack of love, or fear about some past event, then it is emotional and spiritual support is what is needed.
What can we take from this?
Despair, loss and other negative emotions or spiritual states can have direct impacts on our physcial wellbeing – This is why many mental health experts today recommend against doom scrolling, news addiction and positivity practices as wellbeing tools.
But, more positively, this gives us a scientifically informed way to reclaim in the church’s position as a health care provider. Our practices of prayer, community and worship are connected to our physical and mental health. But lest you think that I am suggesting that church should simply be added to a long list of wellbeing practices, next to buying organic food and going to the gym then let me be clear, and provokative.
I think that the healing and health we offer people in the church (theology, community, and our practices) has genuinely and scientifically measureable health benefits but it is the ultimate, the best, the highest form of healing that human beings can access – because we offer a way to deal with suffering, pain and death. And that is the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and all that that event means for humanity and all of creation. The resurrection of JEsus, and what it tells us about the love of God for each one of us, is a liberation from all fear. It doesn’t take away suffering and pain, but the faith is that we are never alone when we are in those dark places, and will at the end find reconciliation with the creator of the universe. You don’t get that at the gym.
In the gospel today we are reminded of God’s utter love for each of us, that Jesus is like the good Shepard who wil not let one of his flock be lost. Ever.
And what I love about the epistle reading is that it reminds us that all of this is true, even if we don’t feel it.
And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him whenever our hearts condemn us, for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.
This is the resurrection hope, even if we don’t feel it, even if I am at the bottom of a great big hole in utter despair – God will never abandon me. The hope, the faith, the healing of my life is not an act of my will, is the gaze of love in which I am beheld by God.
Would you like some science to back it up – I love this. This again is from a recently publishing experimental psychology paper.
Recently, there was an experiment run to test how the framework of meaning that we take into places of pain has an impact. The researchers gathered two groups of women, one group were atheists and the other group were religious sisters, or nuns. The women were than put into brain scanners and later they completed questionnaires – both of these measured pain perception. And they were shown two images – either a anonymous renaissance women or a similar picture of what is clearly the virgin mary. And while looking at these two images one by one, both groups were, with their consent, given small electrical shocks. So, pain was applied.
What is fascinating was that the nuns reported lower pain when looking at the virgin mary and being shocked, compared to looking at the anonymous woman and being shocked. The brain scanners confirmed this. When staring into the image of the women at the heart of the faith to which they dedicated their lives, then they felt less pain.
What can we take from this – The framework of meaning that we place around pain, around despair, around whatever we are gong through, be it physical, mental or emotional pain – has the potential to reduce the severity of it.
This resurrection hope is that we are never lost and that even death and the fear of death, cannot separate us from God’s love for us.
Jesus’ disciples spoke proudly into the complexity of their world in the face of persecution, pain and despair – let it be known to all of you that this man is standing before you in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,[
This is the resurrection hope of the faith, and it is ours to share with those in pain and those who despair today.