Psychosis and the Spirit-- Christians and Depression

“How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” Psalm 13:1-2

If you ask me, I think King David struggled with depression. A lot of scholars have suggested that King Saul was bipolar. Jeremiah certainly hit the dumps when he wrote Lamentations. Even Jesus felt extreme sadness and pain in his heart. So where do we get this mindset that Christians are supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time?

Perhaps it's all the verses on joy and rejoicing-- especially during times of trials. Somewhere along the way we equated joy with a state of emotional stability rather than a conscious decision of how we will think and act based on God's promises. Since Christians are supposed to be “joyful,” we started assuming they are in a state of disobedience and sin when they are not “happy.” The gospel became a vehicle of prosperity, not only in material things, but in emotional health. Thus, if you're depressed, surely you are screwing something up in the spiritual department. As Christians we have the Holy Spirit in us, and the fruit of the spirit includes joy and peace--so if those traits seem absent, perhaps one is not walking by the Spirit... or so the thinking goes.

Those, like me, who have suffered from bouts of serious depression don't even like to talk about the differentiation between happiness and joy. Both are elusive and impossible when you are at your worst. No Bible verse, no promise of God, no hope for healing can bolster your spirits. You find it difficult to pray, even if you want to pray. Other people seem supportive at first but then start to get irritated when the depression lingers.

How silly of us to think that the effects of sin could taint every part of our world and leave our brains and emotions unscathed. Only the health-and-wealth nuts think cancer or other life-threatening illnesses are a result of unconfessed sin. Granted, illnesses can result from our sin, such as the alcoholic who now suffers from liver failure. But a lot of Christians assume depression is not a legitimate physical illness. I think this disconnect comes from the current form of gnosticism that pervades the church-- the mentality that this world and everything in it is just going to be left behind when we fly away to glory. We elevate our spiritual nature and denigrate our physical bodies. We think of them as two separate entities rather than two parts of the same whole, interconnected and intertwined, one constantly affecting the other, and vice versa.

It should be said that depression CAN be caused by sin or outside circumstances. If I'm perpetually living in sin, then the Holy Spirit is going to make me feel conviction, which may make me depressed when I don't want to confess it. Sins like discontentment, unthankfulness, and impatience can cause me to be perpetually unhappy. Situations in my marriage or work may make me stressed and frustrated, which can make me depressed. But what's the explanation when everything in life is just peachy, and I still wake up with this unexplainable weight holding me down? When I can't think clearly? When all I can work myself up for is sleep?

I came up with my own little test years ago-- if I pray and ask God to show me what sin might be causing depression, and I've confessed all the sin I know of, and if I'm not in conflict with anyone or anything in life, and I still feel like crap, then I think it's okay to just say I'm sick and treat it with medication. And thank the good Lord for medication! My Mom always says that Satan never fights fair, so it's okay for us to use chemical warfare when appropriate. When medicine DOES help, I think that's a good indication the depression is rooted in physical causes-- medicine would not remove the guilt of sin nor the consequences of rebellious living. If taking medicine helps clear one's mind to pray and actually helps a person feel well enough to seek God, then I can't see how it is a bad thing. There may be a time when medication is no longer necessary, as I found in my own case. And later down the road, other physical causes may be to blame-- again in my own case, I found my thyroid was way out of whack, and when I got on thyroid meds, my depression went away almost immediately.

But what do we say when a Christian suffers from not only depression, but severe mental illness, to the point that they are suicidal? My husband (who gave me permission to blog about this) also suffers from severe depression and emotional irregularity. Counseling and anti-depressants just didn't seem to help. It all came to a head last week, when he had a gun and a plan. Thank the Lord he willingly checked himself into a psychiatric hospital and gave his shot gun to the police. Six days and several medications later, he's remarkably better. He feels clear headed and hopeful. He is on different medications than he had been on, and it's made a world of difference.

So how should he as a Christian respond to this? How should I as his wife respond? How should the church respond? I can tell you that if someone had said he was just living in sin and needed to repent, that wouldn't have done one iota of good and might have done a world of harm. Yes, his severe depression caused him to sin-- the conflict we have had in our marriage directly stems from sinful responses on both our parts to his obvious illness. But to say his own sin made him psychotic would not be true. To say the fallen state of our world made it inevitable that some people's brains wouldn't work right would be more accurate. Just as some people are born with visible disabilities, surely some people are born with impairments in the wiring and chemistry of their brain. Yes, the fine line between nature and nurture is constantly debated, and there's no way to know which source is the major contributer. They both play a part. The sin lies in how we choose to deal with our inborn weaknesses. If I'm prone to depression, will I acknowledge it? Will I seek help from health professionals and counselors who can not only prescribe the right medications but also help me learn to process my thoughts and identify warning signals? Will I be open and honest with my brother and sisters in Christ so they can uphold me and encourage me?

Since depression runs in my family, I've had ample opportunity to observe the church's reaction to depression. I've seen the church react in very negative ways. I've seen judgmental attitudes and heard very hurtful things said. But I've also seen the church step in to help when appropriate. The same has been true this past week. It's hard to be open and honest with fellow believers about the junk in one's life and in one's brain, but the body of Christ has been incredibly supportive and understanding to us. I'm sure it confuses some of them, but even the approach of “I don't quite understand your situation or know what to think of it, but I'm here to help and pray in any way I can” is a blessing.

It would be great if the church at large would be willing to address depression and mental illness out in the open. It is a fairly common problem. I used to joke that depression was a luxury only those in developed countries could afford to have, and it's true that as a whole, we probably over-medicate ourselves in this country. But that doesn't make the problem any less real. I also think it is best addressed by someone who has either experienced it or at least feels empathetic towards those experiencing it. It wouldn't do much good to have a person with no experience in this regard to get up and start telling people how they should act or what they should do. I find that people who understand depression through first-hand experience can recognize others who have been there through how they talk about it. And I tend to disregard those who speak about it when they obviously have no clue.

For those who are trying to support a person with severe depression, I'm finding that a good support system of friends and a counselor makes a world of difference. Asking for help is a very hard thing to do, but no one knows you need help unless you ask for it.

Finally, I never want to underestimate the power of prayer. The times when you can't seem to pray are the times when you need other people to intercede on your behalf. Those are the times when you'll just have to trust that a simple “God, help me” is heard and understood at the throne of the Father.

The Insidiousness of Sin

I've been reading "Respectable Sins: Confronting the Sins We Tolerate" by Jerry Bridges and meeting to discuss the book with a group of women on Saturday mornings.  Let's just say this book is smacking me right in the face-- in a good, but uncomfortable, way.  If you haven't read the book, I highly recommend it.  

The basic premise is that we as evangelical Christians are very good at recognizing sin in other people and in society at large, especially the "big sins" that also double as hot-button social issues.  But we are not as good at examining the subtle sins in our own lives and dealing with them.  Bridges addresses sins such as ungodliness, anxiety and frustration, discontentment, unthankfulness, pride, selfishness, and the list goes on.  We all struggle with these sins, but if we hope to grow in Christian maturity, we have to recognize them as sin and turn those areas over to the transforming power of the Holy Spirit.

Reading this book and examining different circumstances in my own life, I've come to realize that I have downplayed the seriousness of sin.  I've tended to pass the buck on to God and his supralapsarian sovereignty.  Yes, sure, we are responsible for sin, but God is ultimately responsible for electing to make us beings who would sin.  (I work some pretty fantastic mental gymnastics in this regard.)  I've also, sort of, come to the conclusion that I probably don't really believe in hell (how's that for hedging?).  I've done all of this in my mind just so I can sleep at night and keep myself on decent terms with God.  

But then... wow, I see just how destructive my own sin is.  How little sins, un-confronted and unconfessed, can drive deep wedges in relationships over the years.  It's like termites, gnawing away unseen at the foundation until the house collapses.  Or Chinese water torture... drip... drip... drip... Nothing drastic, but just as devastating.  I've been convicted of some major sin issues in my life, and it's never pleasant to realize the extent of one's guilt.  And yet, what a glorious reminder of how amazing grace is.  To be reminded once again of just how evil my heart is, and how far from God I am, and how I would be stuck here if it weren't for the cross.  

The best part is the assurance that God still loves me, even though I feel like a dirty, broken-down piece of crap.  I don't understand the balance between His justice and His mercy (Who does?  Who ever will?), but I'm thankful that He extends to me His mercy even as His justice dictates that I must live with the consequences of my sin in this present world.

A Gentle Rebuke

The internet is a funny thing.  People tend to feel less inhibited--and often, a little meaner--when they are safe behind their computers making comments than when they are talking to someone face to face. 

I'm no different (although I'm proud to say that in the 2+ years of watching videos on YouTube, not once have I used the proverbial "you suck" comment).  But just this morning I received a gentle rebuke and immediate conviction that it is wrong for me to post things on this blog that I wouldn't be willing to say to someone's face.  Most of my "ranting" posts have been about general frustrations that don't necessarily apply to one specific church or one specific person.  But a few of my posts did criticize a specific person, and I regret that I did that.  I'm rather bad at that "be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry" thing.  I think I'm going to include a "be slow to blog about it" caveat as well.  

Thus, I've edited a couple posts to remove material that was critical and judgmental of specific people.  If I've missed something, please bring it to my attention.  In the future, I'm going to refrain from using specific people as the fodder for my frustration.  In other words, if I wouldn't say it to their face, then I'm not going to post it here.  And I trust you'll hold me to that.

Healthcare and the Church

When I started this blog, I had intended to address political topics once in awhile.  I obviously haven't done that.  I used to be a political junkie of sorts, but I've grown so weary of trying to keep up with the current debates and legislation.  Politics will never save us, obviously, so it's hard for me to continually devote time and energy to the process.  Still, I think it's important for Christians to be engaged, thoughtful citizens.

But one doesn't have to be paying much attention to politics to know that the healthcare debate is a-raging and will continue for some time.  I honestly don't know what to make of the mess.  Our current system is broken, no doubt about it, but I don't know the best way to fix it. 

My husband is a nurse practitioner whose patients are generally low income and usually do not have health insurance.  It saddens me to hear of patients who have treatable medical conditions that go untreated because they can't afford to buy the medicine, have the procedures done, and so forth.  Thus a treatable problem deteriorates into even more severe medical issues.  Then it's only a matter of time until they have a heart attack  or a stroke or some other severe medical event that lands them in the E.R. (or they attempt suicide because they can no longer endure the pain.  It happens far more regularly than we would like to admit.)  I don't think anyone would dispute the fact that preventative medicine is far less costly both in terms of money and quality of life.

I've heard conservative Christians put up a lot of resistance to Obama's healthcare plan, but I haven't heard a lot of alternatives offered.  I don't want to debate the pros and cons of nationalized healthcare.  I do want to know why we accuse Obama of trying to covertly fund abortions by withholding healthcare from the elderly, but we don't seem to give a rip about the fact that every day, in our communities, children don't check-ups when they need them, adults don't treat their diabetes because they can't afford it, and immigrants get abysmal care just because they can't speak English fluently.  Churches could find lots of ways to minister to their community in the healthcare field-- host health screening clinics, help fund non-profit clinics to low income families, help families pay for medicine and doctor visits, teach community health classes, pay for someone to get their cavities filled, and so forth.  In general, I've seen Christians rally together to help support someone in a time of a sudden medical crises (cancer, car accident, etc.), but there doesn't seem to be a lot of thought going into ministering to people in preventative medicine.  

Obviously, this is a big charge, but it's one I think the church could handle.  Our community hosts a huge dental clinic once a year-- they use the sports arena, and dentists from around the area volunteer to see people for free.  They treat what they can at the arena, and more serious cases are scheduled for follow-up.  The place is filled to overflowing with people who couldn't afford to see a dentist all year long.  

I just get so frustrated that we either 1) keep waiting for the government to save us or 2) criticize the government every time it attempts to help the people we are content to ignore.

Essential Elements of a Church Service

My brother always joked that he was a Presbyterian dressed in Southern Baptist clothing.  He even pastored a Southern Baptist church for a time.  But he and his family recently joined a PCA church, and they couldn't be happier.

I spent a few years in a Presbyterian church, sandwiched in between my Baptist and independent Bible church years.  I really grew to love the liturgy.  I suppose if one grew up with it or did it long enough, it would get dry and stale.  But I loved the intentionality of it and the "meatiness" it built into the service.  If the sermon stunk, at least you had Bible reading, prayer, confession of sin, and worship all built in.  I realize that many churches have moved away from liturgy because it was becoming a hindrance for some people-- it lacked spontaneity, it seemed too rigid and contrived, and so forth.  People wanted to leave room for the "Spirit to move," or, at the very least, the freedom to mix it up on occasion. 

But lack of liturgy becomes its own liturgy.  We still sing x number of songs, do announcements, do x number of songs, take the offering, throw in some quick prayers, have a sermon, quick prayer to wrap it up, then leave.  Isn't that a structure built in to every worship service?  Can that not also become stale?

I have privately bemoaned many churches' pitiful lack of meaningful prayer during worship services for some time now.  We tend to use prayer as a filler and a transitionary device:  "Song is done, thus let us pray for 30 seconds to give the pastor time to get to the pulpit to preach."  I remember a few months back when one of our assistant pastors prayed, he actually prayed.  He prayed for the world, he prayed for us, he confessed corporate sin on our behalf, and he took his good old time with it.  I started crying, it was so refreshing.

[Original post edited here to remove disrespectful attitude towards a specific person.] Another essential element we are missing from our church services is SILENCE.  To corporately allow God time to speak to our hearts and allow time for us to confess and worship him in silence is a valuable thing that is often overlooked.

I know many of these issues are a matter of preference.  There is no right or wrong way to order a service (well, there may be some wrong ways!).  My pet peeves may be someone else's favorite part of the service.  For instance, I can't stand the "tinkly piano music" that often accompanies prayer and the last minute of a sermon as the pastor gets really serious and starts hammering home his point.  I'm a musician, and my mind immediately focuses on the music, not what is being said.  I also know that music is a great manipulator of emotions, and what one might mistake for the Holy Spirit was really the swelling transition from the minor sixth back to the root chord.  (Or, to quote Derek Webb, "I don't want the Spirit, I want the kick drum.") But other people like that tinkly piano music.  It helps them focus their thoughts and examine their hearts.  If it's doing something for somebody, well, then, I can suck it up and deal with it.

But opinions and preferences aside, there has to be some elements that are essential to every worship service.  I'm rather ignorant as far as church history and liturgy in this regard, so these are just things that I assume are important:  worship and confession through prayer, worship and confession through song and silence, worship through offerings (monetary or otherwise), the reading and exposition of scripture, and the edification of believers.  How those things are accomplished could certainly vary.  And I'm probably missing some things.

So, what elements do you think are essential to a church service?  I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Women's Bible Studies-- All Fluff and No Substance?

I don't like going to Bible study.  There, I said it.  

I love studying the Bible.  I love getting together with fellow believers to examine, learn from, and apply God's word.  I love fellowshipping and praying for one another.  But when it's time to sign up for another "Women's Bible Study" at church, I sigh, I shake my head, I look for excuses, I hem and haw.  Sometimes I cave and go.  But other times, like this year, I just decide not to bother.

Why?  First of all, what is generally meant by "Bible study" is really "doing a workbook that references the Bible occasionally."  The times the Bible is referenced, it is often taken out of context and molded to fit the idea the author has formulated herself.  It's poor exegesis, which leads to incorrect application.  In addition to the workbook, "Bible study" involves watching a DVD where the author speaks to us, and through personal stories and a few more verses pulled in for good measure, we are supposed to feel warm and fuzzy.  If the author/speaker is really good, women may even get teared up.  

I'm not saying these studies aren't helpful; on the contrary, I'm sure many women are learning things that are, for the most part, true.   The sticky issues of exegesis could be easily corrected and discussed in the course of the group study.  What bothers me the most is that this is all many Christian women know-- how to study someone else's study about the Bible, rather than how to study the Bible itself.  As a result, I fear many women are missing out on the depth and riches of scripture because they are too afraid or just don't know how to get started without their well-dressed, dynamic female author/speaker to lead them on the journey.

(Two caveats here-- I'm not just referring to a particular female author/speaker, although some are worse than others in terms of poor exegesis and application.  I'm referring to the whole body of curriculum generally used for Women's Ministries in the U.S.  Also, I can't speak for men's Bible studies as to the quality or substance, though I'm assuming they can run into the same pitfalls as women's studies.  I will say, though, that at least at the churches I've been involved in, a much higher percentage of women participate in Bible studies than men do, so while it may have it's problems, at least women are making an effort to grow and learn.)

For a new believer, these studies can be a good way to ease into the practice of getting into God's word.  They can guide and explain scriptures and help someone process it.  But we shouldn't get stuck there.  We have to learn to read and think through scripture with the Holy Spirit as our guide.  Of course we often need outside help to clarify and explain scripture, and I am all for using commentaries, concordances, dictionaries, and other study aids.  We can't fully grasp scripture without understanding its original context and setting, and the average person doesn't know beans about the 1st century world, pre- or post-exilic Judaic culture, or what have you.  

Maybe that's part of the problem.  Most churches expect too little from its members as far as what they should know.  We all should be eager theologians, but often what we hear from the pulpit is, "I won't bore you with the theology here" as they glaze over a really significant point.  Women tend to shy away from theology often because it is seen as a "man's domain."  If women can't be pastors or elders (as in my denomination), then they are never challenged to attain that level of Biblical knowledge.  That is a terrible shame.

So we are stuck with frivolous fluff that has more to do with how we "feel" about a certain passage of scripture rather than what it says.  We rarely dive into a whole book of the Bible, or even an extended passage.  We can only think in bits and pieces.   (When we tried doing the book of Hebrews, the women did amazingly well thinking through difficult passages, but they voted at the end of the study that they didn't really like it and wanted to go back to the workbook/DVD format.  !!!!)   We rate the value of a study based on how many emotional nerves it hit; the more the author seems to be speaking to an area women can identify with, the more they feel they are "getting something out of it."  They don't realize they are feeding off of regurgitated blessings and insights from someone else rather than seeking it directly from scripture.

It wouldn't be fair to categorize all women's Bible studies this way, and I know several other women that feel my frustration about these types of studies.  But the vast majority eat them up like they are chocolate, scrapbooking, and chick-flicks all rolled into one (pardon the gross female stereotypes!).  Add to that the fact that the Christian publishing industry knows how to market these babies with amazing demographical precision.  I just feel like screaming, "There's so much more, gals, there's so much more!"

Thoughts?

Man vs. Nature- A Lesson from the Dust Bowl

My Daddy was a dry land wheat farmer in the northeastern plains of Colorado for over 2 decades, just as his father was before him.  Growing up on a farm, I always swore that I would never marry a farmer.  Not because I didn't like the dirt or the hard work.  I just wasn't fond of the gamble involved.  My Dad poured his blood, sweat, and tears--quite literally--into a small, dry piece of land, hoping to wrench enough life out of it to make enough income to live on for the next year. We watched the skies, praying for rain while the wheat was growing, praying for dry weather when it was time for harvest, and praying that no hail would come in the interim.  Most years, nothing seemed to go right for my Dad.  If it wasn't the weather, it was the old equipment breaking down.  Nothing was ever easy and very little seemed to go right.

What a precarious relationship exists between man and nature.

I recently finished reading a book a friend lent me about the Dust Bowl called The Worst Hard Time, by Timothy Egan.  I've always known the Dust Bowl was an extremely difficult time; in fact, I remember my grandparents telling me stories about it, although they were on the fringes of the area actually called the "Dust Bowl."  But this book was rather shocking to read.  It's hard to picture millions of tons of dirt blowing across several states-- even harder to imagine standing in the middle of it as it blew over your house, your fields, and your livestock.  I can't fathom watching every sign of life around you wither and die or be buried under a mountain of sand.  Year after dry, dirty, hopeless year.  

A severe drought exacerbated the problem, but the weather was not to blame--humans were.  Irresponsible farming methods, short-sighted government plans for homesteading, and record harvests to aid the war effort left the land vulnerable and exposed.  Interestingly enough, the book pointed out that not everyone believed humans were responsible for the crisis.  Some said it was just a cyclical change in the climate.  Some just said it was the drought.  It couldn't be helped-- it was governed by a force stronger than humans, and thus humans couldn't have caused it nor could they change it.  Some thought it was a punishment of God.

One can't help but notice the similarities between the rhetoric of that time and all the continuing debates about climate change today.  Many Christians still feel reluctant to admit that humans have affected our world in significant, harmful ways or that we really have any power to undo some of the damage.  The earth has gone through climate change before, they say, and this is just another one of those cycles.  We had nothing to do with it.  Therefore we have no compelling reason to change our behavior, especially if it's going to cost us.

Of course, many Christians see the need to be better stewards of this earth and are thus working to change our habits and our policies.  I believe Christians can be leaders in this endeavor, and should be, because we see the value of both creation itself and the human lives within that creation.  Many policies that aim to help the environment put human welfare at risk.  Policy makers during the Dust Bowl faced similar questions.  Should we encourage the people to stay and establish conservation practices to save the land?  Or is it so far gone that we should move all the people out?  Where should they go?  How will they live?  Some people thought the government had no business bailing out the "Okies."  Others thought the government didn't do enough.  

There were no easy answers then, and there are no easy answers now.  But after reading that book, I realize that the fragility of our current climate situation is not overstated, as sometimes I tend to think.  Just because we don't see all of the effects of it now doesn't mean we should continue to rip out every last fragment of prairie grass to plant a crop, so to speak.  The consequences don't come until later.  But we have to make decisions today, with foresight informed by science and a sense of stewardship.  

The land, after all, is a gift, and it is our livelihood.  Even if it seems a little bit beyond our control.  Even if it lets us down, year after year.  "The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein" (Psalm 24:1).