Hebrews 12: 1-3 Take Jesus’ Cue: Run the Race with Glory on the Brain

Hebrews 12: 1-3 Take Jesus’ Cue:  Run the Race with Glory on the Brain

Today is our final sermon on mental health- and we’re wrapping up our series with a positive and encouraging look at the way Jesus’s own perseverance offers us hope that we too can run our race with glory on the brain.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart.”

This Lenten journey together has been weighty. So good, but also heavy, because mental illness is no joke. In fact, what we know from research is that for the most part, our mental health issues—whatever they may be—won’t completely disappear, ever. We can manage symptoms, we can develop coping skills, we can find relief in sharing our journey with others, and we can treat brain chemistry imbalances with meds. But for the most part, mental illness remains in our lives whether we like it or not. So the final question we’ll consider today is this: what will sustain our wellbeing through the highs and lows of our mental health journeys?

Here’s the short answer: exercise. Is that what you thought I was going to say? I selected this metaphor of Paul’s about running the race of life, because our mental, physical, and spiritual wellbeing is all tied up together. And when we run the race of life, particularly with mental illness at our heels, we need to be prepared. We need to exercise our bodies, minds, and spirits. It works like preventative medicine: Getting ahead of our mental illness before it knocks us off our game. The world of therapy around mental illness and substance abuse uses language like preventative factors verses risk factors in our lives. Biology matters, yes, but if we have more preventative factors in our lives, we’ll fare better than if we have more risk factors. Like a spectrum of health, some risk factors are unavoidable, but the good news is this: we can all do something to enhance the preventative factors in our lives. And we do so by using Jesus’ example of perseverance despite the difficult circumstances he inherits in life.

I want to start with physical exercise. Plenty of research has occurred on the impact of physical exercise on mental health. It’s intriguing to me- in part because this is one of my personal “preventative factors” for anxiety and depression. When I begin to sense my anxiety levels rising (for example, when conversations between my beloved husband and I become a little less rational)…I go for a run, or do jumping jacks, or something. And 30 minutes later, the situation doesn’t seem so dire after all. One study mentions, “Aerobic exercises, including jogging, swimming, cycling, walking, gardening, and dancing, have been proved to reduce anxiety and depression.” If you’d like some of the biochemical details of it all, it says, “These improvements in mood are caused by exercise-induced increase in blood circulation to the brain and by an influence on the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis; thus, on the physiologic reactivity to stress. It’s affects include the limbic system, which controls motivation and mood; the amygdala, which generates fear in response to stress; and the hippocampus, which plays an important part in memory formation as well as in mood and motivation.” That’s actually pretty amazing, right, the way our physical and mental health is so intertwined? Moral of the story, when you’re feeling down- turn on some music and dance!

Alright, now for the second part: mindfulness exercise. This one may seem a bit more intuitive when it comes to mental health, but it takes intention, persistence, and support from loved ones to really work, not to mention reducing the stigma of asking for help. Exercising the mind can take so many forms: seeing a therapist, self-initiated therapeutic practices, and meditation are just a few examples. If you recall the 2^nd week of this series, I mentioned Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. This is especially helpful for mood disorders like anxiety, depression, thoughts of suicide, etc. And the cool part of CBT is that you can practice on your own. Although I would recommend learning from a trained therapist at first, this type of mindfulness exercise is pretty accessible- now even with smartphone apps! One I’ve just learned about is MoodNotes; it allows you to track your thoughts/ feelings/ behaviors and reflect on how true to reality they may or may not be. If smartphone apps aren’t your thing, one of the simplest and most effective ways to exercise your mind is by joining a support group. An intentional, safe space for sharing your story and receiving the stories of others who “get it.” Every Thursday at 5:30pm we have a NAMI support group meet at the church- you’re welcome to come! Wouldn’t it be great if we started even more support groups like this within our congregation?

The final exercise is spiritual. Now simply by nature of your being here today, you are including a really important preventative factor for mental health into your life. So well done, you’re committed to exercising your spirit here in worship. One way you can commit personally to continue this spiritual growth is by incorporating prayer and meditation into your daily routine. If this feels hard to sustain, you’re not alone. When you get a bit off course, I’d suggest trying a simple gratitude exercise. Take a few moments each day to pray in this way: “Thank you God for….” It’s amazing what gratitude can do for our wellbeing.

Exercise (of the physical, mental, or spiritual variety) is not a magic cure-all. It does, however, hold promise for sustaining our perseverance on this race of life. When we grow weary of our exercise routines, when it feels as if risk factors are outweighing our preventative factors, remember Paul’s words: “We are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.” I do not, you do not, none of us run this race alone. I hope you’ve found encouragement in hearing and sharing stories of mental illness this Lent. I know I have. And next week on Easter morning, we’ll remember together THE story that ignites our spirits into living hope for a new tomorrow. Jesus is the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. So how about it? Will you commit with me to running our races together, like Jesus did, with perseverance for the sake of God’s glory? Who knows but all this exercise might just be worth it: “so we might not grow weary or lose heart” even through the ups and downs of mental illness.

Isaiah 43: 16-21 Storytelling Matters: Reconciling past pain to perceive a new vision

Today we focus on the power of story-telling with the help of the ancient prophet Isaiah. This scripture you hear today is spoken to God’s people when they feel most lost, most alone.

“Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters, who brings out chariot and horse, army and warrior; they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick: Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing: now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people, the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise.”

God’s people are exiled from their homes, their familiar places of worship, and for some, even their families. I doubt they felt like “chosen people.” This story may have occurred ages ago, but those same conditions still exist today for us- maybe especially for those struggling with mental illness. In any family or community, mental illness can become a real barrier to belonging much like the concept of exile. Whether it’s Israel’s exile long ago or our own estranged relationships today, we all need a story of redemption to cross paths with our unique stories of suffering. Walter Brueggemann gives us this perspective on the text today: "From the bottom of loss and guilt arose in Israel a series of new, imaginative poetic voices who took the loss with deep seriousness but who shrewdly reinterpreted old faith traditions to turn exilic Israel in hope toward the future."

There’s irony in one particular line from this poetic prophet. “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.” Here’s the irony: this line is spoken after a thorough accounting of Israel’s history. A lengthy airing of dirty laundry (so to speak), a story of separation between God and God’s people that includes harsh language, deep pain, and so much anxiety. Our story as God’s people has never been neat and tidy, and it seems important to this prophet to tell the truth of those “former things.” I like this line put another way: Let’s tell the true story about what’s made you who you are today, but don’t consider this story the final word. Because God says, “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness.” There’s always a way of redemption for God’s people. Always, even when we can’t yet perceive it. Remember the past, yes, but don’t get stuck in it. How do we do this? By telling the truth of our stories AND the truth of God’s story. We need both truths to transform us.

If you’ve taken a look at the mental health resources insert, you’ll notice the book, “Blessed are the Crazy” by Rev. Sarah Griffith Lund. I want to quote you about ½ the book today, but since I can’t do that, I’m going to ask you to read it. Because she accomplishes exactly what she’s set out to do: breaking the silence about mental illness, family and church by sharing her own story. I was surprised to see one of my seminary professors Donald Capps (who taught a course called the minister and mental illness) wrote the forward to this book, and he affirms Sarah’s work by saying, “the fundamental key to the process of healing is to testify to the role that mental illness has played in our lives and thereby free ourselves from our prisons of fear, shame, and pain, and open the doors to liberated lives based on hope, healing, and love.” I can tell you this has been my experience after sharing the truth about my postpartum depression and anxiety.

Mental illness is a part of so many of our lives. And when we sweep our suffering under the rug, we disregard its significance both as a piece of who we are as broken and beautiful people, and as a potential pathway toward renewal. Sarah says, “Families and communities of faith need to be intentional and proactive about changing this culture of shame, secrecy, and stigma. Testimonies only work when there is a place to testify, a safe space to tell the truth. And healing happens when testimonies are given and received within community.”

Sarah’s own testimony reveals the truth that God CAN do a new thing in us, “make a way in the wilderness.” You see, Sarah grew up with emotional scarring from a father who suffered from untreated bi-polar. The manic episodes, psychotic delusions, and depressive mood swings resulted in decades of abusive behavior toward Sarah, her 4 siblings, and her mother. Sarah has a way of detailing her upbringing with grace and grit, and I highly recommend you read her version. I will offer a few of her final reflections: “The power of our testimonies is the power to work through, heal, and eventually transform our suffering. Telling the stories about my crazy father, bipolar brother, executed cousin, and my own spiritual visions makes room for light and air, the things of God’s spirit to enter in. Keeping these stories as secrets buried deep down in my soul gives them power to hold me captive, isolated by my own fear, shame, and pain: fear that I too, will be labeled crazy and, therefore, unlovable; shame that I am not good enough to be loved; pain because this suffering makes me feel alone in the world.”

Finding the courage to share our stories truthfully is a hard and messy emotional process. And sharing our stories is exactly what’s needed to break down the stigma that has emotionally exiled so many of us and our loved ones from a sense of real belonging. I have a challenge for you today: If your soul has been stirred by this series on mental illness, if you’ve heard something of your story in the stories of others, if you’ve been repressing the truth about your own mental illness, make a change today. Pick one safe person to share your story with. Prayerfully sit with the pain of your past, so you might discover the courage you need to share your story with just one other person.

Telling the truth of our stories is where we begin, and as a faith community we respond to our individual stories by proclaiming together the truth of God’s story. Toward the end of her book, Sarah says, “The Christian faith endures because there is power in telling truthful stories. Christianity tells the story of a broken but beautiful people and the God who loves them so much that God offers God’s own self to give the people wholeness and new life.”

You are not alone in mental illness. We are worthy of love as people who live with mental illness. We belong to God and to one another. May this truth set us free. I’ll leave you with Sarah’s closing line (which sounds awfully similar to something an ancient prophet may have told Israel back in the day): “It is my testimony that the God of love is with us, even when there’s crazy in the blood. It is my gospel truth that blessed, not cursed, are the crazy…for we will be called children of God.” Child of God, we need your story to heal us all. Amen.