by Rabbi Coten, Rabbi at Norwood and United Synagogue
This week’s parasha, Bo, tells of one of the most defining nights in our history – the night of the Exodus. The Torah describes families gathered around their tables for the first Pesach meal: lamb, matzah and bitter herbs. But perhaps the most striking aspect is not what was on the table, but that they came together around it.
After years of slavery and suffering, the Jewish people were learning to share an experience of freedom – to speak, to listen, and to begin to heal.
In many ways, Jami Mental Health Shabbat invites us to do the same – to bring our full selves to the table, including our struggles, and to speak about mental health openly, with care and without shame.
For too long, mental health has been something many have felt they needed to hide away. We speak freely about diet, exercise or blood pressure, but anxiety, depression, or trauma are often left unspoken. And yet, silence can be as stifling as the darkness described in this week’s parasha – “a darkness that could be felt”.
The Torah tells us that during that plague, “no one could see another or move from their place.” It’s a haunting image and also a powerful metaphor for what it can feel like to struggle with mental health – unable to move forward, unable to see or be seen.
Yet the verse continues: “For all the children of Israel, there was light in their dwellings.” (Shemot 10:23) Even in deep darkness, there can be light – not because the darkness disappears, but because we learn to share it. When we talk, when we listen, when we are present for each other, we bring light into one another’s homes.
In my work as Norwood Rabbi, and particularly in my role as a United Synagogue prison and hospital chaplain, and community Rabbi, I regularly meet people who have suffered, often quietly, with mental health challenges. Recently, I visited a prisoner who is struggling deeply with his mental health. He is engaged in an intensive programme of therapy that is due to last three years. It was a reminder that recovery takes time. Healing is rarely quick or linear. We must be patient with others, and with ourselves, when progress feels slow or when improvement is not immediately visible. Compassion means walking alongside someone, even when the journey is long.
That, in essence, is the message of Jami Mental Health Shabbat – encouraging us all to make space for these conversations in our homes, our communities, and around our tables. It’s not about having all the answers. It’s about compassion, understanding, and bringing the topic into the open.
Jami, the community’s mental health service, provides vital support and education across the Jewish community. By raising awareness and reducing stigma, Jami helps to ensure that mental health is recognised as an integral part of our wellbeing – no less important than our physical or spiritual health.
So this Shabbat, let’s take that step. Let’s bring mental health to the table – to speak, to listen, and to bring light into every dwelling.
For more information or to get involved, visit www.jamiuk.org