Dom John Chapman

How can anxious or depressed states of mind that never quite go, despite all the best efforts at treatment, be seen in the context of a relationship with God? Repeatedly in the bible we are encouraged to let go of fear and gloom. Take this verse from Joshua 1: 9 ‘….do not be frightened or dismayed for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.’ Or John 6: 20 ‘It is I; do not be afraid.’ Is it possible then to meet divine presence in the midst of anxiety? Whilst it seems possible that ‘perfect love can cast out fear’ – what about imperfect love?

In the ‘Spiritual Letters’ of Dom John Chapman, Abbot of Downside, he corresponds with a Benedictine nun offering thoughts on this. He initially tells her not to worry, reminding her that in the past when she had ‘trials’ she was able to practice a ‘prayer of recollection’ – turning inwards and towards Christ in the heart. Chapman writes how practicing this detaches us from the world, and presumably from fear, and so begins the journey on the ‘illuminative way’. But such mental suffering can in itself he thinks be seen as a trial, and indeed he suggests such experiences as part of “The night of the spirit”. In the past this could be seen as ‘punishment’ or as a temptation against faith. Instead, Chapman recommends seeing how everything can be a chance to become close to God.

He writes:

‘At the end (and all through) you will be thanking God for giving you this particular prayer and no other; it will probably consist of (i) only distractions and worrying; or (ii) nothing at all; or (iii) utter misery, and feelings of despair; or (iv) that there is no God; or (v) that it is all dreadful, and waste of time and pain. And you will then (not at once) feel – in a higher part of the soul than you have realised before – how much better this is than what you used to have … When you begin to live in this higher part of the soul, you will have made progress, and will perhaps be worthy of having still more unexpected trials. Only you will always have the necessary strength for them all, so there is nothing to be frightened about.’

Here Chapman is suggesting that states of mind like anxiety and depression are part of a plan of teaching, and also of being held as God acts on the soul. This seems counter-intuitive in many ways. Chapman writes that the Benedictine sister must be courageous, and at the same time must pray for deliverance, but only by saying – “Father, let this chalice pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will but as Thou wilt.” He shows compassion here:

‘I know the darkness is appalling sometimes; – but it is the only way of learning that we depend entirely on God, that we have nothing from ourselves, that even our love and desire for Him tends to be selfish. The “royal way of the Holy Cross” is the only way. But you will find out that the darkness is God Himself; the suffering is His nearness.’

A psychoanalytic response to seeing the neurosis as part of God’s plan might be that it is a projection onto God of a chastising authority figure/parent. The ‘I’m punishing you for your own good’ school of thought, and ‘it didn’t do me any harm’ – destructive entitlement. Or it could be a defence against or justification for masochism …

A final thought – perhaps it’s more that suffering and trauma happens, but we can become open to the realisation that we’re not left alone with it – Emmanuel – God with us.