Thoughts on Depression and Christianity

It’s an unfortunate myth that you can’t be a true Christian and still struggle with depression. There’s an underlying notion within the Church that if you have truly internalized the hope of the Gospel and the abundant life that God has provided, you will never have to deal with it. Yet, many incredibly godly men and women throughout the centuries have deeply struggled with depression and a “dark night of the soul.”

Growing up, especially in high school, I experienced what I would call depression – though likely not clinical depression or anything overly serious – but depression nonetheless as I tried to figure out who I was, what I was created for, and attempted to navigate the murky waters of being a teenager.

When I became a Christian a couple months into my freshman year of college and found answers to those questions, those struggles vanished and my friends in the dorms remarked that “something had happened” to me since I hadn’t stopped smiling in weeks.

Like many others probably have, I hoped and likely thought that with my new-found faith, those feelings of isolation, depression, and pessimism would be gone forever, but almost ten years later, I’ve found that some days those thoughts and ideas come creeping back.

Van Gogh's Sorrowing Old Man 

“What’s the point of working for change? Nothing ever changes anyway…”

“Does anyone outside my immediate family even care about me?”

“Everything is meaningless. What’s the point of all this striving?” (see Ecclesiastes)

I’m not a psychologist, or counselor, or doctor – so take this with a large barrel of salt, but it seems to me that as I read about the lives of other Christians, particularly those who are deeply contemplative or artistic types, some sort of depression is not uncommon. Perhaps for those of us who deeply wrestle with God when something horrific happens, or when we’re discouraged by the human race or by our own sin and shortcomings, moments of pessimism and depression are almost unavoidable. It seems fully natural to despair the depravity of the human race or the fact that things aren’t as they should be, and the entire cosmos have been doing so since Genesis 3.

Based on my own experience, it seems that perhaps, Christianity is not a “cure” for depression. God certainly can cure or eliminate depression in some people and has undoubtedly done so, but life is full of suffering and moments of lament, and it’s as if we’re affirmed that this is okay, even expected and necessary, since the Scriptures are full of prayers of lament, doubt, and even depression.

Yet, many parts of Scripture that begin with lament or apparent descriptions of depression don’t stop there – they lead to trust and hope.

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” (Psalm 43:5)

One of the beautiful things about the Christian faith is that it gives us a worldview through which sin and depression make sense. It affirms that, no, things are not as they should be and that it is natural for us to yearn for Home. It also gives us immense hope that despite our momentary feelings of depression, loneliness, and doubt, the God of the universe has revealed to us through Scripture and the death and resurrection of his Son that these feelings and doubts about ourselves are not true, are only temporary, and need not define us. 

Rather, we are children of a holy, all-powerful, loving, and victorious God.

Though I may feel worthless, God calls me His son. Though I may feel lonely, God reminds me of His presence. And though I may doubt whether things will ever change or whether my striving for redemption will ever have any lasting impact, God reveals through his Word that anything done for the sake of the Kingdom is not done in vain.

If anything, as I grow older and wrestle with this, these feelings have led to greater humility, gentleness, and a desire to love people as fully as possible. Life is hard and suffering is to be expected, but in the midst of the pain and wreckage, we have opportunities to cut through the chaos and offer something that is eternally enduring – “faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

And as we find ourselves in moments of loneliness or feeling like strangers in a crowd, we can be assured that Jesus Christ himself experienced those same things and that He is there to guide us through and remind us of who we are and whose we are.

I’ll close with this beautiful prayer from Henri Nouwen.

A Christmas Prayer – December 23, 1985

“O Lord, how hard it is to accept your way. You come to me as a small powerless child born away from home. You live for me as a stranger in your own land. You die for me as a criminal outside the walls of the city, rejected by your own people, misunderstood by your friends, and feeling abandoned by your God.

As I prepare to celebrate your birth, I am trying to feel loved, accepted, and at home in this world, and I am trying to overcome the feelings of alienation and separation which continue to assail me. But I wonder now if my deep sense of homelessness does not bring me closer to you than my occasional feelings of belonging. Where do I truly celebrate your birth: in a cozy home or in an unfamiliar house, among welcoming friends or among unknown strangers, with feelings of well-being or with feelings of loneliness?

I do not have to run away from those experiences that are closest to yours. Just as you do not belong to this world, so I do not belong to this world. Every time I feel this way I have an occasion to be grateful and to embrace you better and taste more fully your joy and peace.

Come, Lord Jesus, and be with me where I feel poorest. I trust that this is the place where you will find your manger and bring your light. Come, Lord Jesus, come.”

-CK