As we continue to face the trauma of the October 7 massacres and the ongoing military action in Gaza and Northern Israel, we know how much our mental health has been impacted. We are elated one moment and crying the next, relieved then heartbroken, anxious then distracted. It is completely exhausting and overwhelming. Are there ways to access processes, experiences, or activities that could help to manage our mental health?
For the last eight years, the Shabbat of Parashat Bo has been a Shabbat dedicated in the United Kingdom to good mental health in the Jewish community. And it was not by chance.
In 2016, my wife Ilana and I were about a year and a half into our first rabbinic post back in my hometown of London, after having spent 17 years in Israel. I was thinking more and more about the challenges of mental health that my wife and I were encountering across our community and beyond.
Whether through bereavement, family disputes, anxiety and depression, financial worries, parenting or educational issues – it seemed apparent that a framework of faith could provide the underpinning to a more integrated and oriented view of the world, resulting in better mental health outcomes for our community.
While listening to the Torah reading of the plague of darkness on that Shabbat, Parashat Bo, in 2016, I was immediately struck by its strange description: “Moses held out his arm toward the sky and thick darkness descended upon all the land of Egypt for three days. People could not see one another, and for three days no one could move about, but all the Israelites enjoyed light in their dwellings.” (Exodus 10:22-23)
This three-part articulation was a profound anchor to access an understanding of mental health.
Firstly, “people not seeing one another” connects to a lack of empathy or consideration that is prevalent when we are in a heightened state of anxiety. Secondly, the notion of “not being able to move about”, due to a darkness so thick, is a powerful analogy to the sense of paralysis that is experienced in acute situations of anxiety or depression. It’s not just fight or flight. It’s the “freeze” factor that can be the most debilitating.
Laurie Rackind, the CEO of JAMI UK – the mental health charity for the UK Jewish community – was a synagogue member in our first community, and I ran over to share the idea with him, which became the hook for the first annual Mental Health Awareness Shabbat, in 2012.
The purpose of that Shabbat, and the week surrounding it, is to overcome the stigma of talking about mental health. Whereas in the United States, meeting with a therapist to discuss mental health is quite common, it is less common in the UK.
Study shows Jews have greater confidence in therapy
In 2012, a study of elderly New Yorkers, published in the Journal of Religion and Health found that “Jews had greater confidence in a therapist’s ability to help, were more tolerant of stigma, and more open to sharing their feelings and concerns” than other ethnic populations within New York.
In the UK in general, according to data from UK charity MIND, approximately one in four people in the UK will experience a mental health problem each year. In England, one in six people report experiencing a common mental health problem (such as anxiety and depression) in any given week. In the US, according to Mental Health America in 2022, 19.86% of adults (about one in five) were experiencing a mental illness and 4.91% were experiencing a severe mental illness. State prevalence of adult mental illness ranges from 16.37% in New Jersey to 26.86% in Utah.
Especially in light of our Jewish reality since October 7, how can we engage in behavior that can positively impact our mental health?
Interesting research has connected traditional therapy with Jewish ideas and concepts.
Ronald pies, a psychiatrist from Tufts University pointed out, in 2016, that there were some strong similarities between cognitive-behavioral therapy and ancient Jewish teachings.
A research team, led by psychologist and Columbia University clinical psychology Prof. Elizabeth Midlarsky, surveyed 307 older New Yorkers (ages 65-94) who: “were perceived by a mental health professional to have psychological problems.” About half of the subjects surveyed were Black and approximately half of the “white” subjects were Jewish. The researchers wrote about attitudes towards psychotherapy and especially the degree to which they held themselves responsible for the causes of, and solutions to their challenges.
“When compared to non-Jewish whites, the Jewish people in our study were more confident in a therapist’s ability to be of help, more tolerant of any stigma associated with mental health seeking, and were higher on interpersonal openness. Furthermore, Jewish participants were not likely to perceive themselves as responsible for the cause of their problems, but were significantly more likely to perceive themselves as responsible for solutions when compared to both non-Jewish whites and Blacks.”
The ability to recognize that not all events that happen to us are of our own doing, but the willingness to admit responsibility for the ones that are, and to resolve to solve the challenges we face, is the basis for the concept of teshuva, repentance, in Judaism.
Remaining hopeful
Beyond that, in the current climate of global heightened antisemitism, we need to acknowledge that this is a difficult time. We need to be more forgiving of ourselves and kinder to ourselves. We have shown unbelievable levels of kindness to our communities, unprecedented support of Israel in its time of need, and a sense of unity among Jews everywhere. But we need to recognize that this constant state of high alert, high anxiety, and high emotion takes its toll. Things take longer and feel more difficult, and many of us are feeling constant emotional exhaustion.
But, as we have always believed, there is a glimmer of hope, as the verse states at the end of the description of the plague of darkness: “And for all the people of Israel, there was light in their dwellings.”
Even in the midst of the greatest darkness, we are given the capacity and the Divine providence to find hope in our situation for a better future.
As the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks so eloquently and prophetically stated, “Hope is the belief that, together, we can make things better. Optimism is a passive virtue, hope an active one. It takes no courage – only a certain naivety – to be an optimist. It takes great courage to sustain hope. No Jew – knowing what we do of the past, of hatred, bloodshed, persecution in the name of God, suppression of human rights in the name of freedom – can be an optimist. But Jews have never given up hope.”
Let that be our guiding principle – our guiding light – for the long days ahead.
The writer is a rabbi who, together with his wife Ilana, leads the Western Marble Arch Synagogue community in central London.