When I teach a module on Religion and Mental Health, I am often struck by how difficult my students find it to grasp the idea of that mental illness may relate not only to personal factors (such as biological ones), but also to political, economic and social issues. This is hardly surprising: the twin modern Western doctrines of dualism and individualism are heavily tinted spectacles through which we interpret – and misinterpret – the world and which we often find difficult or impossible to take off. The result of this is an individualistic ‘bio-bio-bio’ model within our dominant culture, and an equally problematic dualistic ‘social-social-social’ anti-psychiatry model among those who reject it.

What is needed is a holistic account of mental health and mental illness – one that shows, in a sustained way, how we can make sense of mental illness and human flourishing in a way that takes us beyond individualistic accounts of it. John Swinton’s beautifully written new book, which focuses on the biblical idea of shalom, is a much-needed response to this lacuna.

In the Introduction, Swinton argues that the idea of mental health as the absence of mental illness creates a dichotomy between people who are well and/or curable and those who are not and, in addition, focuses attention on individual solutions instead of systemic issues. Instead of seeing mental health as the absence of mental illness, Swinton suggests that we should see mental health as ‘shalom’ – that is, as peace, wholeness, harmony in relationships with God, self, human, and wider creation. ‘Health is not and does not require the absence of illness’; as in the Psalms of Lament, people can find God even when their suffering is unrelieved.

Shalom is a communal concept – even when a person cannot themselves hold on to God, the body of Christ can hold on to them. Importantly, there can be no shalom – no true peace—without justice. When people internalise oppression, consciousness-raising is needed to enable them to see the injustice of their situation. The aim of this book is to raise awareness of the often-hidden intersections between mental health and injustice, bearing in mind that injustice needs to be confronted and resisted, not risen above.

Chapter 1 considers the interpersonal aspects of peace. Swinton moves away from Western theories of mind that typically situate mind in the head, arguing that cognition is socially distributed. Thus, for example, when one attends a funeral, the emotional and cognitive work of ‘remembering, processing grief and shaping spiritual consciousness’ is shared. Since our minds are interwoven with our communities, mental wellbeing and relational wellbeing are linked. Accordingly, a person with depression or anxiety may not only need therapeutic interventions such as medication and individual psychotherapy, but also ‘reconnection to communal practices, friendships and embodied rituals’.

Chapter 2 turns to peace with creation, which includes ecological, social political, economic and cultural issues. Here, Swinton argues that when universities and other organisations hold ‘mental health awareness’ weeks, mindfulness training, or stress-management workshops they seek to manage symptoms by getting people to adapt to toxic environments. In fact this masks a deeper dysfunction – one that it located not in the employees themselves but in excessive workloads and exploitative employment practices. Pressure to be ‘resilient’ can serve to force people to adapt to unjust, economically driven, hostile systems, and become oppressive.

These organisation-level shortcomings are in turn the product of the neoliberal society of which they are a part, which commodifies people and values self-reliance and competition rather than compassion, love, and justice. Within neoliberal society, the natural world is regarded as a commodity to be bought, sold, exploited, and controlled. Changes in our climate cause unprecedented fires, floods, and hurricanes; deforestation and the loss of natural habitats leads to the extinction of whole species. Eco-anxiety consists in the loss of shalomic interconnectedness essential to human well-being. Solastalgia, homesickness for a home that no longer exists as home, is experienced both by people who have been displaced by profound ecological change and the intentional destruction of their land for profit. Even for those who do not yet experience the devastating effects of the climate crisis first-hand, media coverage of fires, wars, and floods can give rise to a profound and collective sense of loss, displacement, and instability. True mental health care means addressing the root causes of suffering, seeking justice in the structures that shape our world, the cultivation of belonging in communities, and caring for nature and our shared home.

Chapter 3 moves from this theoretical ethical imperative to consider strategies that will embody this holistic vision. We must learn to live kindly, since kindness is the first step away from the stigmatisation of people with mental illnesses and towards them belonging in our community. We must de-commodify our minds, including not seeing people and creation more widely as defined by market value. Churches can be places of sanctuary, offering community, prayer and relational care aimed at shalom, and preachers and teachers can provide education that promotes understanding of people with mental health challenges and reduces stigma. De-commodification is itself an act of resistance, since it renews our capacity to hope, imagine, and act differently.

We must enable people to live healthily even amidst suffering and distress. This involves thinking not only about what we do but also about how we speak and how that serves either to rob people of their dignity or, conversely, to name suffering in ways that enable hope, belonging, and agency. We must learn to love our future neighbours as well as our present-day ones, ensuring that the world God so loved that he gave us Jesus is a fit place for future life. Being where our feet are – moving from ecological homelessness to spiritual homefulness – reminds us that ‘The land on which we stand is holy ground, created matter that matters’.

What do I wish were different about this book? At a couple of points in chapter 3 Swinton says that it is unnecessary for Christians to be political activists in the face of injustice and ecological devastation. For example, he says:

Again, he writes, ‘I am not suggesting we all become political activists’. This seems to be in tension with emphases of Chapter 1 where Swinton writes that, when people realise ‘the true nature of their plight, they are empowered to rise up’ and that shalom is ‘a call to confront and resist’ rather than to ‘rise above’ injustice. While the comments about not being political activists are a minor part of the book, I worry that these comments mean that what initially appears to be a courageous call to the overcoming of oppression dwindles into a sort of political quietism in the face of injustice by the end.

In as far as Swinton gives a reason for his reticence about political activism, he seems to suggest that it is ‘stepping on God’s territory’ by changing powerful systems of this world (thus he says, ‘Ultimately, this is God’s job). But this, I suggest, indicates a problematic ‘competitive’ model of divine and human agency. On this competitive view, God and persons are two distinct beings in the world whose actions compete for space when it comes to causal explanations – either I pick up the pencil (say) or God picks up the pencil. But God is not another thing in the world and God’s action does not compete with ours for logical space or in terms of causal explanations. The upshot of recognising this is that we do not have to say that it is God’s job to bring about changing powerful systems of this world or else ours – we can say that it is God working in us that brings this about. With God, all things are possible. We know that powerful systems of this world can change through divine and human action including political activism – the civil rights movement is evidence of this.

It may be that Swinton has in mind a particular view of political activism here which includes activities that are not possible for some people with mental illnesses. Therefore, it makes sense to clarify what is political activism is. Political activism can involve taking to the streets to protest – this is important and valuable, but it is also an activity that is difficult for some (by no means all) people with mental illnesses – for example, some people with social anxiety may at times not be able to do this. However, it can involve many things besides: raising awareness of issues with one’s social circle in person or via social media; displaying posters; signing and circulating petitions; writing books, articles and blogposts; creating art and music; teaching and preaching; writing Christmas cards to prisoners of conscience. In the face of the injustice faced by the earth, our shared home, and the people within it, I suggest, contra Swinton, that it is every Christian’s calling to be a political activist.

Ultimately, this is a very minor part of Swinton’s new book. As a whole, the book is a wonderful contribution to the field, both in terms of what it brings to the field that is new – the application of the idea of ‘shalom’ and a new understanding of what mental health is – and also in terms of enabling people to perceive the social, political and ecological causes of mental illness to which our individualistic, dualistic spectacles so often make us blind. It should be of interest to theologians, people with pastoral roles in churches, mental health professionals, people living with mental illnesses and their families and friends, and many others besides. It will certainly be on my module seminar reading list next year.