I rarely mention God or talk about my spiritual beliefs (or anyone else’s) here. I want this to be a safe space for all people, and not everyone believes in God. Among those who do, there are very different understandings of God’s nature, how much control God has over our lives, and how God wants us to interact with people who don’t share our beliefs.
But our own and others’ spiritual beliefs can have a huge impact on our mental health. That impact can be positive or negative. The same beliefs that help some people cope with life’s challenges make it harder for others to endure hard times.
For example, a woman whose teenage daughter was killed by a drunk driver years ago told me a friend had said, “God must have needed another angel in heaven.” I expressed my outrage and added that I would be tempted to slap that friend and it would take a long time for me to forgive them.
She was shocked by my reaction and said she had appreciated her friend’s comment. The idea that her daughter’s death had served a higher purpose and been part of God’s plan instead of just a senseless tragedy comforted her.
Some of us have loved ones with spiritual beliefs we used to share but don't anymore, or that are very different from ours. Different spiritual beliefs and faith traditions can be fascinating to explore. I enjoy learning more about other people’s spirituality and the experiences that led them to accept or reject specific spiritual teachings or practices.
But different beliefs can also damage or destroy relationships. It’s hard to have a good relationship with someone who thinks your beliefs are unacceptable to God and will cause you to spend eternity in hell. It’s even harder when they believe they must save you from that fate by convincing you to replace your beliefs with theirs!
It’s also hard for people in the same family (or faith community, town, or country) to understand how others can believe things that seem so obviously false and/or harmful.
Here are three spiritual beliefs that have significantly affected my mental health in both positive and negative ways:
There is life after death.
Everything happens for a reason. It’s all part of God’s (or the Universe’s, or some other entity’s) master plan.
We are all sinners who can never be good enough to deserve God’s forgiveness.
This is how each of those spiritual beliefs has affected my mental health:
Life after death. I believe that death is a transition to a much better life than we have on Earth. I think we will all go to heaven and be reunited with loved ones who have died before us. I also believe every human and all of creation will live in harmony. We will be fully united with each other and God in ways I don’t pretend to understand or be capable of envisioning. I don’t think hell exists, at least not as a place God sends non-Christians or anyone else to when they die.
My beliefs about life after death have both helped and harmed my mental health. They help me because I’m not afraid to die. I’m not worried that I or anyone I love will spend eternity in hell.
They hurt me because when I’m depressed enough to consider suicide death isn’t just a way to end my current suffering. It’s also the gateway to eternal happiness, so I have an added incentive to end my life.
The fact that I don’t believe people who get away with terrible things will ultimately be punished in hell also harms my mental health. It upsets and infuriates me to think that they will never be held accountable or experience any negative consequences for their cruelties. I want them to suffer, and it seems only fair that they should, because they have inflicted so much suffering on others.Everything happens for a reason; it’s all part of some cosmic plan. I completely reject this belief, but understand why some people find it comforting. The idea that some divine being or force able to see the complete picture is in control and has a master plan does have a certain appeal.
It would mean that our most painful experiences serve a purpose; they aren’t just senseless tragedies. It would mean we bear no responsibility for the harmful effects of our actions. We are just puppets whose strings are pulled by some external force.
But what higher purpose is served when someone is brutally murdered, an entire town is destroyed by a natural disaster, or a child is abused? Even if something wonderful does happen later as a result of something horrible, does that make the horrible experience any easier to endure? Does it mean the horrible event was intentionally caused in order to bring about the wonderful one?
The most harmful effect of this belief on my mental health is that some well-meaning people feel the need to express it when I am going through a particularly difficult time. I consider it spiritual abuse when anyone tells a person who is suffering that their pain was deliberately inflicted as part of a larger plan.We are all sinners who can never be good enough to deserve God’s forgiveness.
This belief is often called the doctrine of “original sin.” As far as I know, it’s unique to Christianity. Many of my fellow progressive Christians see this belief as purely harmful and emphasize “original blessing” instead.
They rightly point out that most people, especially women, already have difficulty believing that they are “enough” (smart enough, attractive enough, successful enough, etc). How can teaching that they can never be good enough to be worthy of God’s forgiveness do anything but reinforce their feelings of inadequacy?
I share their concerns, but this belief has actually helped my mental health. I tend to be a perfectionist, so the idea that I was born a sinner and can’t possibly be good enough to merit God’s forgiveness is oddly comforting. It takes the pressure off. If I was born incapable of being good enough to please God, then there’s no reason to blame myself for that limitation. I don’t feel compelled to constanly strive to attain a goal that no one can achieve.
And the idea that I don’t have to earn God’s forgiveness - it’s God’s gift to me and everyone else because God loves us unconditionally - is a welcome change from the conditional approval and admiration of humans. I was rewarded for getting good grades and winning awards. I was punished for other doing other things. Employers have praised me for being dependable, honest, helpful, and compassionate. They’ve also criticized or fired me for questioning policies or refusing to do things I considered unethical.
That’s human nature; I admire or criticize people based on what I think of their behavior, too. They have to earn my respect and can easily lose it.
But I believe that God loves me no matter what. God forgives me time after time without ever giving up on me. And I think God loves and forgives everyone else, too (including people who don’t believe in God or hate God). And that spiritual belief helps my mental health more than any other.Now it’s your turn. What are your spiritual beliefs? How have they changed over time? How do they influence your mental health? Do you have friends or family with very different beliefs? If so, how has that affected your relationship?
This resonates! I am a "Hatetheist" on the grounds that a God who permits evil is monstrous. As to your points, the pap about God's mysterious plan appalls me. Indeed, even if something wonderful ensues from a tragedy, the tragedy is not negated. If even one child had to suffer abuse in order to spur legislation that saves thousands, it nonetheless unacceptable. I too abhor the idea that evil people don't pay for their abominable acts. I think the concept of forgiveness for all is simplistic. Atrocities are unforgiveable and should remain so.
Coincidentally, over the past few weeks, I've posted several pieces on what I consider insipid--and abhorrent--spiritual concepts, (specifically, karrma and reincarnation), notwithstanding which I'm tormented by the prospect that they may be true. I've been agonizing throughout the course of reviewing transcripts of sundry "revelations" from "the afterlife," as recounted by those who've had NDEs. My goal was to debunk the reality on account of inconsistencies--but my plan backfired insofar as I couldn't dismiss the similarities. Consequentially, I've been verging on a breakdown for three weeks; mercifully, my followers (on Medium) have engaged in appealing to my rapidly disingtegrating rational side.