With Pope Benedict’s visit to the US (check out Beliefnet’s coverage by clicking here) comes an opportunity for me to explain why Catholicism is, hands down, the best religion for the mentally ill. Here are a few cool devotions and traditions within the Catholic faith that work well with those brains that are, well, creatively designed.
1. There is a saint for every neurosis.
You have a neurosis? We’ve got a saint! St. Joseph takes care of those prone to panic attacks while traveling. For twitching, Bartholomew the Apostle is your dude. Those roaming the house in their sleep can call on Dymphna. The venerable Matt Talbot is patron saint to those struggling with alcoholism and drug addiction. And, of course, St. Jude covers the hopeless causes.
2. We have an abundance of blankies.
It’s okay to be scared, to shake with anxiety, because Catholicism is chock full of security items (much like baby blankets) that mentally challenged people such as myself can carry in their pockets, purses, or on their necklaces: relics, metals, rosaries, holy water, and so on.
3. Time-outs are included.
Priests and sisters call them “retreats,” but, in my humble opinion, a short stay in a psych ward and a few days at a prayer house in the woods are two similar means to an end: peace of mind. The activities for both are the same: small group discussions (“This is what energizes me, and this is what drives me absolutely crazy,”) moments of silence, and several disgusting meals shared in a community room. If you ever want to feel better about being committed to a psych ward, consider it a “pilgrimage,” what Pope John II called, “an exercise of…constant vigilance over one’s own frailty, of interior preparation for a change of heart.”
4. A vision? Cool!
A real perk of being Catholic is that you can be psychotic and people will believe you. I mean, if you see a statue of Mary weeping, or the figure of Jesus standing between your brothers in a family photo, or an angel appearing on the side of a building, you’re not weird. You’re a hero!
5. Go Ahead, talk to yourself.
Likewise, if you are ever caught talking to yourself—like when a car pulls up to you wanting directions to the Fish Fry and then noticing that no one is beside you as you jabber along–simply pull out your prayer beads, and the Catholics will commend you for saying a rosary.
6. Angels are on call.
Some people get reckless when they are manic. They try different kinds dangerous stunts (racking up $4,000 on a master card) that could damage or kill them. If they didn’t have a gaggle of angels looking over them. Phew.
7. You might lose weight.
This one isn’t a guarantee, but any non-Catholic who comes to our liturgy will feel like he has just been to aerobics with all the ups (standing) and downs (sitting), and in-betweens (kneeling). Now throw on top of those cardio workouts the fasts that we like to do, especially during Lent, and chances are that you will shed a few pounds.
8. We party a lot.
Do you know how many holy days of obligation there are? I get confused, too, because days like Ash Wednesdays aren’t obligated, just strongly suggested. But by the time you add all the solemnities and feast days and liturgical seasons, nearly every day is a party. Neurobiologists and psychiatrists and psychologists–all those smart people with initials after their names–say that celebration is good for the brain. Especially laughter. We Catholics like to laugh. And laughter can heal.
9. You can tell our jokes.
And speaking of laughing, if you are Catholic, you get to tell Catholic jokes. Note: they aren’t received well from non-Catholics. Remember that “Seinfeld” episode, when Jerry’s dentist converts to Judaism so that he can tell Jewish jokes? If you are in the club, you can tell us about what St. Peter said to the lawyer who tried to get into heaven.
10. We do a lot of good.
Unlike evangelical Protestants, we Catholics believe that we are saved not only by our faith, but also by our charitable works. So we invest a lot of sweat and energy into social justice, which is good for every form of mood disorder. By getting out of ourselves and attaching ourselves to a bigger cause, we lessen our despair.