In the Heart of Illness, Communion Is Possible

Christine Dupuis witnessed the anguish of people living with mental illness and their families. With others, she founded a home in Belgium for young adults with schizophrenia.
In the Heart of Illness, Communion Is Possible
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Archival content: this article was published more than 10 years ago. The language and content reflect the sensitivities of the time.

Christine Dupuis lives in Brussels and works for a Christian ethical advocacy network. She has witnessed firsthand the anguish of people living with mental illness—and that of their families. Together with others, she founded a home in Belgium for young adults with schizophrenia.

One experience changed everything—a before and after moment. A year spent at an L'Arche community in Brittany. During that time, Christine participated in the life of the community and helped lead creative workshops. "The joy there was extraordinary," she recalls. Jean Vanier had a prophetic vision: the rejected, those society wishes to hide away, become bearers of spiritual and fraternal grace in their local communities. "I knew then that this was what I wanted to do."

Around that same time, this elegant, observant woman was struck by a serious endocrine illness—discovered only after being misdiagnosed. "I lost a lot of weight and was accused of having anorexia," she continues. "That's when I truly understood what fragile people endure." A woman destined for an excellent career in finance after serious university studies—"brilliant, surrounded by promise"—she suddenly found herself "rejected, despised, suffering" and utterly isolated.

Descending into the Depths of Being

Her upbringing had not prepared her for such a fall. "I had been taught excellence," she confesses, "to push my limits further, to develop career plans. If I had clung to those measures of worth, I would have collapsed." She had to completely shed that old life and learn humility, learn to live in trust, here and now. During her illness, one person opened a home to her—a house open to people from very different backgrounds, a rich mix of cultures and faiths. "That's what saved me," she says. "I decided then to love according to my capacity everyone who passed by my bed: friends with cancer, elderly people, Orthodox intellectuals, refugees, children passing through."

Un primo piano di Chantal Dupuis
Un primo piano di Chantal Dupuis

Wanting to deepen her faith, Christine Dupuis immersed herself in spiritual writings and the lives of saints, and began therapy at the same time. "After years of achievement, I descended into the depths of being." This wound in her heart opened up a new way of seeing the fragility of mental illness and the suffering of a friend. "I was shattered by his sadness, his loneliness, the total lack of understanding around him. I desperately wanted to stay connected to him."

Around the same time, a series of chance meetings caught Christine's attention. Three or four times in a row, at spiritual retreats, she found herself sitting next to mothers of sons with schizophrenia. One day, she shared with one of them a concern: Belgian care centers seemed ill-equipped to address psychological suffering. Together they decided to create a place of fraternal life. "I could say yes to that vision because of my time at L'Arche, because of what I had lived there. It is possible."

Easing the Daily Weight

Things moved quickly. With supportive parents and friends, Christine Dupuis began organizing weekend activities for young people living with mental illness. A board of directors was formed. Parents bought a house in southern Belgium and rented it to the new Christian-inspired association. A friend donated furniture and curtains, transforming the space into something beautiful and welcoming—details that mattered deeply to Christine.

Today, the MAISON DU FESTIN works with a team of psychoeducational professionals: psychiatrist, occupational therapist, psychologists. Four young adults, ages twenty-five to thirty, live there full-time. On weekends, two to four others join them.

Last summer, thanks to someone who lent them a chalet, they were able to spend fifteen days in Switzerland. "It was wonderful," she recalls. "They could choose which hikes they wanted to take." These good moments offer relief from the daily weight and frustration that illness brings. "In the most tragic moment of suffering," Christine continues, "there is a special grace—communion with the divine—because illness strips us bare. We can no longer hide behind our certainties or the social image we've constructed. We suffer in body and in relationship. But there is that breach, that crevice in the mountain. I would like to offer these young people the chance to find it, and for this communion to take place, if God wills it. But that is not ours to control."

Florence Chantal, 2011

Florence Chatel

Florence Chatel

Author of articles published in Ombre e Luci.

In total 349 authors have contributed to Ombre e Luci.

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