Faith and Complex Emotions During Cancer

Cancer has a way of reaching whatever you rely on to make sense of things. For some people faith becomes the steadiest part of the whole experience. For others it becomes the part that stops working — prayers that feel like speaking into a room with nobody in it, services that used to settle you and now do not, or a quiet certainty that has simply gone.

Both happen, and they can happen in the same person in the same week. Feeling positive and negative about your beliefs at once is common, not a contradiction to resolve.

It helps to know that spirituality is broader than religion. It is described in cancer care as the way you look at the world and how you make sense of your place in it, which can include belief, values, meditation, work you find meaningful, or time outdoors.

One of the more isolating parts is thinking you are the only one. You are not. It is recognised that some people feel their faith has let them down and struggle to understand why they have cancer, including questioning whether they believe in God at all. That is a documented response to serious illness, not a private disgrace.

Several versions of this show up:

• Belief intact, practice gone. You still believe; you cannot make yourself go.
• Practice intact, belief gone. You attend, and nothing lands.
• Anger. You still believe, and you are furious.
• Bargaining, then embarrassment about having bargained.
• Envy of people whose faith appears untouched.

None of these need to be settled quickly, and a diagnosis is a poor time to be making permanent decisions about what you believe.

Most traditions have far more room for anger and protest than their communities sometimes suggest. Lament, argument and complaint directed at the divine run through the texts of Judaism, Christianity and Islam; Buddhist and Hindu practice have their own long treatments of suffering and impermanence. A well-trained chaplain or clergy member will not be shocked by anything you say, and will not require you to arrive at a tidy conclusion.

Some of the hardest lines come from people trying to help. Everything happens for a reason. God only gives you what you can handle. If you had more faith. Someone is praying it away.

You do not have to accept an explanation you find hurtful, and you do not have to debate it. "I know you mean that kindly, but it doesn't help me" ends the exchange. If it comes from a faith community you value, one honest conversation with a leader you trust is often more effective than withdrawing.

Some people find their community carries them completely. Others find it goes quiet, or offers only certainty when what they needed was company. Both are worth naming rather than absorbing.

Hospital chaplains are trained to give support to people of different faiths, as well as to those who are not religious at all. You do not need to belong to anything, believe anything, or have a question ready. Conversations are often about fear, family, regret, meaning or what you want the rest of your treatment to look like, rather than doctrine.

You can ask for a chaplain directly at most cancer centres, and you can ask for someone from your own tradition or for someone with no tradition at all. You can also ask them to be present for difficult conversations about treatment or planning.

The same territory comes up without any religious vocabulary — what your life has amounted to, what you want the coming months to hold, what you want said and to whom. Difficulty finding meaning, purpose or hope during illness is recognised as spiritual distress regardless of belief, and chaplaincy, counselling and supportive care teams all work with it.

• NCI — Finding Purpose and Meaning with Advanced Cancer
• NCI — Emotions and Advanced Cancer
• Association of Professional Chaplains
• Spiritual Care Association