This is part three of a three-part series. Find part one here and part two here.

Having a mentally ill mother has not been a predictable experience. There have been unimaginable negatives and unexpected positives, yet the most shocking and truly disgusting aspect of it all would have to be in relation to my faith.

No, not my faith in God, but my faith in the ability of the church.

Through all the pain and hardship, I believed the best support that my family would have possibly received would have been from a group of Christians, especially in a community setting such as a church. We are fellow believers; we are all made unique; we are all taught to love others.

So why on earth wouldn’t the church be the best place to find help and acceptance for my mother and family?

But no, that is not what we found when we went to church.

In place of people practicing a love that is open-minded and accepting, we found congregation members who would not interact with us. They wouldn’t attempt to learn how to interact with my mother or my family. They wouldn’t treat us like other members of the congregation, making us feel like the black sheep of the church. They never extended an offer of help more than an “I’ll be praying for you.” They did absolutely nothing to help someone who was struggling with mental illness and nothing for their family either.

The church seemed to keep the issue of mental illness at arm’s length. Their instinctual responses to any issue of mental illness was “You just need to have more faith” or “Just pray and read the Bible more.”

They would give their typical responses and then be on their way. No attempt at providing real advice or direction. No effort was put into trying to understand our situation better or offering a helping hand. Absolutely none.

This was the response that my family received from the church. When we were struggling with the pain of the situation, needing guidance on what to do next and lacking a supportive community, the church chalked it up to our lack of “faith,” “patience” and “spirituality.”

The best "help" they gave us was implying that we were somehow doing something wrong.

If this is what the church is, it’s no wonder people don’t trust it. How pathetic that the same people who say “Amen” during a service about loving your neighbor ignore the needs of the one sitting in the pew right next to them. How ridiculous that the pastor who spends hours studying the minute details of theology offers a short, condescending prescription as to what someone struggling with mental illness should do.

How utterly shameful that this is how the church addresses mental illness.

I have kept my faith, not because of the church, but in spite of it. The church is not completely evil or a failure in every regard; it affects many people — the poor, the lonely, the physically sick — in a positive way… provided they are mentally healthy. But for anyone with mental illness or those who have a family member who struggles with it, the church is an utter failure. And that needs to change.

The church must be more engaged with the issue of mental illness. This is not a problem that is simply solved with "more spirituality" or "more faith." Faith has its place, of course, but there is also a need for active participation. Just as the church is active in its assistance to the poor, the orphans and the physically sick, the church must also engage with those who struggle with mental illness.