It bothers me
that, when people get depressed, we don’t question Satan’s character and wonder
how such a being could turn away from the glory of God and set out to cause so
much heartless, ruthless pain to the creatures God made in his own image. Instead,
we question God’s character, as if it is his love that has grown cold, and his
arm too short to save, and his memory that has lost track of us, and his heavens
that are sealed by a titanium shell of self-protection.
It bothers me
that, when people get depressed, we have no problems turning to food for
comfort, filling ourselves up with the most unhealthy food-samplings the world
has to offer, without ever complaining that these companies are preying on
people’s deficiencies of body, soul, and spirit, in order to promote and
encourage bondage to health corrupting chemicals. At the same time, we think we
have every reason to complain against the bread of heaven that would satisfy our
deepest hunger, and the spring of living water that would quench our greatest
thirst.
It bothers me
that, when people get depressed, we suddenly have time for any kind of music
the world has to offer, any kind of video games that captivate and destroy
relationships with God and people, any kind of movies no matter how damaging
they are to heart and soul, and any kind of technological time-wasters that
steal, kill and destroy faith. At the same time, we believe that depression is
such a big and terrible giant in the land that we are helpless to fit in time
for God.
It bothers me
that, when people get depressed, we don’t feel any anger towards sugar, or fat,
or smokes, or tattoos, or drugs, or alcohol, or bars, or advertisers, or
musicians, or actors, or bad company, but we suddenly feel anger towards God
that justifies our lack of anger towards the enemies of God.
I guess the
bottom line for me is that there is something wrong when we believe that
depression gives us some kind of reason to be numb from God, numb from bringing
our pain to God, but not feeling numb about doing things our own way, or
replaying our hopeless stories over and over again in our heads and hearts. Even
the prodigal son eventually came to his senses and preferred his view of his
father, incomplete as it was, to the pig-slop he was wallowing in without any
satisfaction to his own hunger.
I just wonder
why it is that, when we get depressed, we don’t feel this irresistible urge to
find our delight in God instead of in food, or entertainment, or solitary
confinement. Why not God-confinement? Why not God-seeking? Why not resting like
a child in God’s arms rather than resting in the arms of a drive-thru window? Why
not calling Satan the liar and God the one unchanging source of truth and hope?
Why not call the world a disgusting enemy of the soul, quite willing to destroy
our lives on the altar of its idolatry, and call God the friend of the
brokenhearted who heals us and binds up our wounds?
Why not
complain about the emptiness of the world that has had centuries of time to
prove how hopeless it is, and how dishonest, and how fleeting, and deceptive,
and disappointing it has been, and look up through the clouds to the one who is
seated on the throne and thank him that he has yet to give up on such a
sorry-mess of people who think so small of him that we would rather have a big
old hamburger than the bread of heaven that gives life to our souls?
Why am I
feeling this way? Because depression is a joy-stealer. It is a wolf taking away
my sheep. It is a lion dragging away the little lambs. It is a Goliath taunting
whole churches into fear and trembling so that no one dares to take up five
smooth stones to finish off him and his brothers.
This week I
have just discovered that I have the resources of the whole host of heaven
ready to speak to me in my depression, ready to speak into whatever trial and
heartache the church is facing, and tell me the truth about reality. While my
depressed soul, cheered on by a depressing world, and encouraged by my own
deceived and dishonest flesh, thinks that everything I think, see, and feel, is
reality, and a hopeless enough reality that I want to sit in silence and
disappear into the nothingness I believe, the heavenly throne room tells me
that there is such a glorious One sitting on the throne that a ray of light
shining from his glory would dispel depression and banish it from the Promised
Land for as long, and as often, as a few people are willing to keep on walking in
the light.
The heavenly throne
room tells me that I have four friends in these living creatures that never
cease to tell me the truth about God, that he is holy, that he is eternally
holy, and that he is worthy of depressed hearts becoming those true worshipers
who worship in spirit and in truth.
The heavenly
throne room tells me that I have twenty-four elders surrounding the throne of
God, representing the depressed people of God before the one who sits on the
throne, and representing back to the depressed people of God the glory of the one
who lives forever and ever. These twenty-four elders are ruling and reigning
with Christ, delighting in him, overwhelmed by his glory, and appealing to us
with their testimony to fix our eyes on heavenly things, not on earthly things.
These twenty-four elders include the hosts of witnesses who have gone before
us, and now line the racecourse with their testimony of the glory of God,
hoping, trying, and seeking to build us up in the most holy faith, so that we
will shine to the glory of God.
What is the
common-thread issue in depression? That right now I believe that what is going
on with me is beyond God, and so I take it into myself, my flesh, and harbor
all manner of thoughts against the one person who can help me. I believe the
world without difficultly, but believe that I cannot believe God. I trust my
flesh is telling me the truth, but believe that the God of truth cannot be
trusted. I believe the devil must be right to question everything God says,
while I don’t realize that I am trusting everything the devil says about the
one person who can only say what is true, for he is the way, the truth, and the
life.
While there is
no doubt that there are contributors to depression from the worlds of body,
soul and spirit, there is also no doubt that there is a cure to depression in
the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. No matter how hopeless someone
believes their depression to be, this is simply the next thing to bring to God
as the body of Christ that is determined to surround all God’s people with the
hope we have in Jesus Christ.
So, here is my
contribution, my one smooth stone aimed at the giant’s head, trusting that God
is bigger than depression, and the God who enabled a little shepherd boy to cut
off the head of the giant with the sword the giant kindly provided, can turn depression
on its head, so to speak, and “bring good news to the poor”, “bind up the brokenhearted,” “proclaim
liberty to the captives,” open “the
prison to those who are bound”, “proclaim the year of the Lord's favor,” proclaim “the
day of vengeance of our God,” “to comfort all who mourn,” to give to those
who mourn, “a beautiful headdress instead
of ashes,” to anoint them with “the
oil of gladness instead of mourning,” to put on them “the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit.”[1]
Please join me in being ticked-off at fast food outlets, and TV sets, and online entertainment, and fickle friends, and booze, and drugs, and money, and fancy clothes, and new toys, and pornography, and the world, and the flesh, and the devil, and let’s put our depression into the hands of the God who can actually lead us into the truth so that what is broken is built-up, what is ruined is repaired, what is wounded is healed, and what is confused is brought into the fear of the Lord that sets us on our way into wisdom and knowledge.
Please join me in being ticked-off at fast food outlets, and TV sets, and online entertainment, and fickle friends, and booze, and drugs, and money, and fancy clothes, and new toys, and pornography, and the world, and the flesh, and the devil, and let’s put our depression into the hands of the God who can actually lead us into the truth so that what is broken is built-up, what is ruined is repaired, what is wounded is healed, and what is confused is brought into the fear of the Lord that sets us on our way into wisdom and knowledge.
At the very
least, don’t go believing whatever depression tells you! After all, we don’t
even know who this guy is and where he comes from! Go to the one the four
living creatures never cease to worship as holy, and the twenty-four elders
never cease to worship as worthy, and see if there might just be some way that
God could surprise you with a gift of grace that your sight-seeing depression
simply could never have imagined.
From my heart,
Monte
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