Depression as a spiritual nemesis to be expected and faced

It’s no new thing for Christians and pastors to struggle with depression. I think to Charles Spurgeon, and John Bunyan and Martin Luther suffered tremendous anxiety. Depression is an occupational risk for pastors and it’s a vocational reality for many Christians.

Spiritually, we’re all targets. The enemy wants us discouraged, despairing and disillusioned. And ultimately the enemy does have success to a degree.

Add to this reality the nature of relationships, which are innately upsetting (others to us, us to others). Whether we like it or not, we give people a certain power over us. Their opinions matter, whether we loath that idea or not, and just about all of us do.

Then there are the unrealistic expectations we have for ourselves, often driven by unspoken demands of others. For ten encouragements, we may find that one negative thing feels like a spike driven straight into our heart, and this is particularly the case when we sense that we’re targeted by someone who is not ‘for’ us.

Finally, there’s the fact of our existential aloneness, and this can seem especially surprising to Christians, but it shouldn’t be. We were built for connection, and yet we ourselves are islands by nature. We must be very intentional about connection and courageously honest if we’re to stay mentally healthy.

But the idea of our spirituality—whether we seriously consider ourselves ‘spiritual’ or not—is enticing. My wife was telling me that at an RUOK Day talk they mentioned stomping on ants—ants being automatic negative thoughts. Our mentality feeds and feeds off our emotions and all this affects our spirit.

It’s not just that the work we do to build God’s Kingdom is a threat to the enemy. That’s the given. It’s the idea that we are God’s property that the enemy hates most of all. If there’s any way we can doubt our surety of salvation—that we were worthy of Jesus’ sacrifice, of the Father giving the Lord over, for us—the enemy is in on that. It’s a spiritual conquest that follows us pre-salvation, all the way to the cusp of death.

I can tell you personally, as a person who was called to ministry 15 years ago, who has held multiple pastoral positions, given 7.5 years to Masters level study, and counselled and mentored many, I have been astounded as to how quickly I can slide into a depression, and how insidiously anxiety has become me.

The descent of those thoughts, the downward spiral, the negative trajectory, can be so sudden, and there’s nothing personal about it, because this phenomenon is common to all humanity. We’re not weak to be susceptible. There’s much more to it than that!

Why would we not expect pastors and Christians not to get depressed or suffer anxiety and panic attacks? Perhaps our susceptibility leads us to God in the first place, and once we’re the Lord’s there is suddenly a higher price on our head.

The enemy wants to steal our hope, kill our faith, destroy our love for God; the enemy does this through deep discouragement and by causing us to doubt that God indeed loves and protects us.

The more God matters to us, the more the enemy hates it. The more God matters to us, the more the Kingdom matters, the more susceptible we are to lament this broken world and indeed our own brokenness. Of course, we must balance all this up with a healthy dependence on God, which is never an easy proposition.

The more we trust and love and fear God, the less we will trust and love and fear things that don’t deserve our reverence.

But we must expect mental illness and face it when it arrives. There are no guarantees as far as recovery is concerned, but one thing is guaranteed: God loves every single one us eternally, no matter the status of our mental health, and there’s nothing any of us can do to be separated from God’s love.

We face our depression when we have expected it. More seminary courses need syllabi on this occupational risk. More Christians need to hear it preached in sermons. More pastors need to take the risk of being transparent. There’s no shame in having depression. But we do need to be reminded of this when we’re suffering.

For me, the moment it dawns on me that I’m depressed is a good moment. My wife will tell anyone it’s when I begin to face it that I begin to climb out of it. I’m not for one moment suggesting, however, that that’s a foolproof method. But it is a fact. Whenever we face something, we receive hope in exchange for the courage we show.

Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash