By Anthony Selvanathan
Special to the Herald
Our lives here in the islands are full of majestic beauty — whether it be the cerulean ocean and the lush green mountains that surround us; the warmth of our culturally diverse communities; or the blessings of our rich Catholic faith.
Yet even in the midst of such gifts, many of us quietly may carry mental health struggles that we don’t speak about with our faith communities or over coffee with friends. As Pilgrims of Hope, we cannot ignore this reality. Caring for our mental and emotional well-being is not separate from our discipleship; it is part of honoring the God who created us in body, mind and spirit.
The “Catechism of the Catholic Church” reminds us that human life is sacred because we are created in the image and likeness of God (CCC 2258). That inherent and sacred dignity extends not only to our physical and spiritual lives, but to our psychological and emotional health as well.
Jesus himself showed us what it means to be fully human, whether it was withdrawing to pray in solitude, sharing meals with friends, resting when weary or weeping at the death of Lazarus. If the Son of God embraced human vulnerability, so can we.
Struggles with mental health are something I know personally and can relate to, as I struggle with anxiety and depression. Living with these internal struggles can feel isolating, even in a community of faith. There are days when prayer feels heavy, or when joy feels distant and unreachable.
But I find that it is often in those moments that I have experienced Christ’s closeness most deeply. Mental illness does not take away our call to holiness; rather, in many ways, I think it invites us into a deeper reliance on God’s mercy and love.
I have also come to understand the phrase “fake it until you make it.” There are times when showing up to Mass with a smile can feel like putting on a mask. But even those small, imperfect acts of faith — praying when the heart feels dry, or choosing to be present when it would be easier to withdraw — can create space for God’s grace to work.
Opening up about these struggles can be difficult, but it is often in our moments of honesty with those whom we trust and love that we find unexpected strength and connection.
This is why community is so important. Whether through our families, our parishes or a circle of close friends, we need people we can lean on when we feel most alone.
The church is not a gathering of perfect people but a family of both the broken and the healed, walking together toward Christ. When we share our burdens, we help carry one another’s crosses, becoming a community of hope. I remember Pope Francis once saying that the church is a “field hospital for souls” — that gives me hope and confidence that when I come to Mass with these struggles, I’m in a good place to be.
At the same time, we should recognize the limits of spiritual care. It’s important to remember that our clergy — from Bishop Larry Silva to Msgr. Gary Secor to any of our parish priests — are not mental health counselors or therapists. It is right to go to them for prayer, spiritual guidance and confession, but they are not meant to have all the answers to life’s struggles.
Seeking professional counseling is not a sign of weak faith, but an act of humility and courage. Faith and science are not rivals; they work together in service of healing.
Let’s also remember that there are several saints who struggled with their own mental health throughout history, and they became saints! For example, St. John of the Cross endured years of deep despair. St. Therese of Lisieux wrestled with scruples and anxiety. St. Dymphna, who is the patron saint of those who struggle with their mental health, continues to be invoked by those seeking peace of mind and heart.
Their lives show us that sanctity and struggle are not opposites — they often walk hand in hand.
Caring for our minds is not separate from our faith; it is faith in action. To seek healing is to honor the Creator who made us whole and to walk with one another along the way.
In this Jubilee of Hope, may we remember that tending to our mental health is itself an act of hope: trusting that God’s grace can restore what feels broken, renew our hearts and lead us together into the fullness of life.