The God-Shaped Gap in General Practice

Religion.

You’re not supposed to talk about it — not on a date, not at dinner, and definitely not in a blog about medicine.

But here we are.

And no, I’m not an expert. I’m not a theologian. I’m just a GP with a chaotic inner monologue and a tendency to overthink everything. Including faith. Especially faith.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10

I was christened (cruelly, as “Wandless”), raised Christian, then walked away from it. South Park, pub crawls dressed as Jesus, the full “edgelord atheist” phase.

Then life happened.

Grief happened.

A cliff happened.

Faith came back. Not like a lightning bolt, more like a slow thaw.

Now, I’m not out here to sell God. But I am here to talk about something we’re all dancing around in healthcare: the vacuum left behind by faith — and what happens when we try to fill it with forms, codes, and ten-minute appointments.

“Surely we belong to Allah and to Him we shall return.” – Qur’an 2:156

Medicine is a religion.

We’ve got our own books.

Our own languages.

Our own sects.

Some follow protocol like scripture. Some break it like heretics.

But the thing that medicine lost, when it secularised itself down to the bone, is community.

See, once upon a time, people had the village elder, the pastor, the wise woman. You brought your grief to them. Your confusion. Your guilt.

Now? You bring it to me.

To the GP.

To the doctor with eight minutes and a clinical system that crashes if you breathe too loud.

“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together…” – Hebrews 10:24–25

And it’s not just a vibe — it’s measurable. In the UK, GPs increasingly describe being cast into roles once held by spiritual or communal figures, without the tools to meet those needs meaningfully (Whitehead et al.; Milner et al.).

Religion in medicine today is a “barrier.” A checkbox. A footnote on the ethics station OSCE.

“Jehovah’s Witness refuses blood product.”

Tick.

Move on.

But where’s the question that asks, what does this belief mean to them?

Not in the “why won’t they let me save them” way — in the who are they without it way.

I’ve worked in places where doctors refused to prescribe methotrexate on faith grounds.

I’ve been called “Doctor Death” because I would.

I’ve walked patients through abortion decisions with love and honesty and zero judgment, even as colleagues declined on principle.

Their right. My choice.

That balance matters.

“Choose life, that you and your children may live.” – Deuteronomy 30:19

It shows up in palliative care.

It breathes in the hospice.

It’s written in the scripts of those who sit and listen — really listen — to patients at the end of their life.

And it’s being reborn in counselling rooms.

In the metaphors we borrow.

In the parables we spin just to help people make sense of the chaos.

“To heal by listening is a form of mercy.” – Hadith (Tirmidhi)

“The soul of a person is the lamp of the Lord.” – Proverbs 20:27

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said:

“It’s like putting a duvet over your head in a burning house. It works… for a bit. But you’re still in a fire.”

Or:

“You’re like a swan. Calm on top, but under the surface? Paddling like hell.”

That’s faith.

That’s allegory.

That’s meaning-making.

“If you speak to people in the language they understand, that goes to their head. If you speak in their language, it goes to their heart.” – African Proverb

What happens when we remove community and don’t replace it?

What fills the void?

We medicate it.

We name it.

We turn existential dread into “low mood.”

We turn grief into “adjustment disorder.”

We fill the space that used to be faith with diagnoses that no pill can fix.

And the patients? They’re drowning.

They find their prophets in influencers.

Their support in algorithms.

Their spirituality in TikTok psych and reddit rabbit holes.

“They have ears but do not hear, eyes but do not see.” – Psalm 115:5–6

And clinicians? Many are spiritually adrift too — with research showing that even when spirituality could support mental health or recovery, it’s often unacknowledged or under-resourced in NHS practice (Skinner & Cowey; Vermandere et al.).

I don’t know.

I’m not here to say “bring religion back” like some dusty crusader.

But I am here to say:

• We’ve stripped away faith without replacing what it gave.

• We don’t need dogma. We need meaning.

• We don’t need evangelism. We need empathy.

So prescribe SSRIs when they’re right.

Refer to therapy when you can.

But don’t forget: sometimes, the thing they need isn’t a diagnosis.

It’s something — or someone — to believe in.

“Truly, with hardship comes ease.” – Qur’an 94:6

And that’s not “unscientific.”

That’s human.

“The wound is the place where the light enters you.” – Rumi

Stay positive

DW