My last job in Australia before I returned to Canada was at a Catholic university in the very heart of Sydney. Much like my current Corpus Christi College campus here in Vancouver, it had a small but dynamic parish. Once or twice a week, if meetings allowed, I could attend noon day Mass. Reconciliation was available daily, an hour before Mass. However, an elderly parishioner always tried to get to the front of the line. If she entered the confessional first, everyone else could walk away. She used up Fr. John’s entire 60 minutes. We speculated about what an octogenarian could have done to need such prolonged confession.

Years later, I came across the concept of scrupulosity, a type of OCD centred on religious belief. St. Benedict Labre (1748-73), for example, famously struggled the condition in which one is unable to be religiously moral or observant enough. Those suffering scrupulosity have obsessive-compulsive thoughts, often about being evil even when they pray, convinced nothing they do is sufficiently Godly. Even when they do right, it is somehow through duplicity and subterfuge. It can lead to despair, trapping them in endless cycles of prayer, penance, and self-punishment.

For St. Benedict, it caused nervous breakdowns, and an itinerant life dedicated to the homeless. He was not alone among the saints in suffering from this condition. The list of those who have struggled with mental health through the centuries reminds us we are all human, and our time on earth is a challenge and a gift. While it is never good to dwell on the misery of others, the old adage is sometimes true that misery loves company if only because it can contextualize our fears and insecurities teach us that we do not suffer alone, unique in our pain.

Clearly, we are in a global mental health crisis. North American statistics alone show millions of individuals, and an alarmingly high number of young people, cite mental health issues as a major factor in their daily struggles. Pope Francis dedicated the month of November to those experiencing depression. Characteristic of how the Pope is attuned to the realities of his flock, he offered a specific message of hope for those suffering seasonal affective disorder, work-related stress, and even burnout. 

“Sadness, apathy and spiritual tiredness end up dominating the lives of people, who are overloaded due to the rhythm of life today,” he has said. 

Francis has been candid about how he turned to a therapist to help him through his struggles, and has called on those who suffer to take similar care. He also reminds us that “along with the indispensable psychological counselling, which is useful and effective, Jesus’ words also help.”

Francis insists that we need to build a ‘culture of community’ to fight the stigma that often accompanies mental health struggles. Prayer can help us seek the help we need, to gather comfort from our faith, and be resilient when things seem darkest. It’s a social justice issue. Jesus called on us to care. He spent his life in the margins healing the sick of heart, of body, mind, and spirit. We, in our own more limited capacity should do the same by extending understanding so no one feels we have looked away.

Francis referred to his own anxieties as a part of himself, saying he was “very attached to the habitat” of his neuroses.

“It’s very important to know where your bones are creaky, where and what our spiritual maladies are. Over time, you get to know your neuroses,” he says.

It’s equally important to tend to them. In his unfailingly humorous way, the Pope explains one of his coping mechanisms: “You have to prepare a cup of maté [Argentinian tea] for your neuroses. Not only that, you have to caress them too. They’re a person’s companions throughout their entire life.’ Despite the humour, he asks us, in all seriousness, to pray, to reach out to our community, and above all to trust in Jesus. 

Vancouver Archbishop Michael Miller, in his homily at the World Day of the Sick Mass, noted “Our Saviour knows the special grace needed by those who suffer. Passion and death can strengthen us to unite our suffering with His.”

While we may never feel more alone than when we are in pain, it can be the time when we are most universally connected. No bones about it.