Quitting Christians

jesus with woman at the wellI am going to stand in for Chaplain Mike for a few days as he takes a well-deserved breather. I have some observations and questions regarding Catholicism I want to lay out before you the next few days. I thought now, with the installation of Pope Francis, was as good a time as any. But this morning I want to get something off of my chest. I’ve touched on this before, but now I want to explore it much more fully. This is an emotional issue for me, though I will try to keep my emotions in check so this doesn’t just turn into a longwinded rant.

I am through looking to Christians for love.

I’m not talking about romantic love. I’m not trying come up with the name of the best Christian dating service. My wife would probably have a thing or ten to say about that. No, I’m talking about something much deeper than romantic love, which can vary with the wind. I’m referring to love that causes one to care for another in a giving, unselfish manner. And rather than reinvent the wheel, let’s just go with Gary Chapman’s “love languages”: gift giving, time spent, encouraging words, acts of service, and physical touch. You might be able to come up with other ways to describe love, but these will do for now.

And, just for fun, let’s revisit the words of Jesus to his disciples on the eve of his crucifixion.

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.  Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.  You are my friends if you do what I command.  This is my command: Love each other. (John 15: 12, 13, 17, NIV)

Love each other. This is my command: Love each other. Not a suggestion, not a helpful thought. A command.

Now then.

I have also made it clear that I suffer from depression. Most of the time it is under control with the medicine I take, the exercise I make myself do, and the rest I get. But there are times when I am under extreme stress that the depression kicks up to “11” (“The numbers all go to eleven. Look, right across the board, eleven, eleven, eleven and…”) and I am basically paralyzed. No, it’s worse than that. I’m not paralyzed. I despair of life. At times like these I just hide in bed and hope no one will find me. I don’t just have a headache. I have a lifeache. And I want it to all go away.

I went thru a very rough patch in November when this “11” setting on my depression meter stayed there for most of a month. I didn’t think I could take much more. I shared my story with a good friend and elder at my church.

“You? Depressed? No, you couldn’t be. You’re the most upbeat person I know.”

Well, what can I say? I wear a really good mask. I tried again with another friend and elder, pulling him out of a Sunday service to pray for me right then. He did, but didn’t ask any questions or offer any encouragement. It was pray, then head back into the sanctuary. I headed home.

Three more elders, three more “I’ll pray for you” responses, then nothing. I spoke to our senior pastor, telling him I even had suicidal thoughts (fleeting; but still) in my despair. I stood there crying as I shared what had been going on in my life and how it had stripped me of just about everything. Our pastor told me he was proud of me for hanging in there. Excuse me. Did you hear what I just said? I despair of life so very much I thought about ending it all. That was my unspoken thought. Surely he’ll call me this week to get together for coffee and talk about this some more. No call. No coffee. No talk. No care.

I talked with four other pastors at our church. One has gotten together with me on a couple of occasions for some good, honest talk. The other three? Nada. A couple of the elders told me to call them if I was having another bad day, as if depression was the same as just feeling blue. Do they not know that those of us with depression could no more pick up the phone, call someone and say “I’m having a bad day” than we could learn to fly?

iMonk writer Adam Palmer, who goes to my church, does care. He will text me out of the blue to check on me. He’ll hunt me down in church to tell me about some obscure indie group he discovered that he thinks I would like as well. (He’s almost always right.) Adam doesn’t coddle me or patronize me. He just loves me.

He loves me. Well, there’s one.

Do you know what it feels like to have someone love you not for anything you can do for them, but just because of who you are? Even when you are totally messed up and are fighting just to make it one more hour? It is like cold water in the desert.

One person. One person from my church cares enough to show me love when I need it. What about other Christians I know? The short answer is No. A little longer answer is Hell No. One good friend, for instance, refuses to say or show love because it might be inappropriate. Inappropriate? And I suppose Jesus’ love was always appropriate? No, it wasn’t. Wherever Jesus went he created scandals with his love. His love at a wedding feast created a scandal with the host. His love for sinners he invited to dinner was always getting him in trouble. His love for a man possessed by demons created a scandal when he freed him and sent a herd of pigs—some person’s livelihood—into the sea. And what a scandal he caused by talking to the woman at the well. Not only a woman, but a slut. Not only that, but a Samaritan slut. He loved these and more. Lepers. Bleeding women. Blind and lame men and women. Sinners. Losers. He loved them all, and this caused a great uproar and scandal. But Jesus refused to put his love in a nice, neat box that would be walled in by appropriateness and law and being a good person. He refused to water down his love with rules and regulations and boundaries. His love was full and complete and unconditional and totally scandalous. Of the millions that surrounded Jesus as he walked the roads of Israel, only a handful received his love. And to this day, of the billions who consider themselves Christians, only a handful will really receive his love without adding conditions and codicils and footnotes to it.

I’ve mentioned a coworker I call Smokey. She is a young agnostic tatted-up woman who wants nothing to do with Jesus. But once I explained to her that I was struggling with depression, Smokey has been there daily to tell me she loves me. She asks me what she can do to help me. She gives me little gifts, like a cup of ice water or a handful of yogurt-covered almonds. She volunteers to do extra work, work she wouldn’t have to do, to take a bit off of my plate. Smokey shows me more love than just about any Christian I know. There is nothing romantic about her love. There is nothing inappropriate. There is only what Jesus told us, his disciples, to do. Love each other.

So why does Smokey, an adamant non-Christian, “get it” when it comes to love, but most every Christian I know doesn’t? Why is it that when I am struggling, like I am right now, I can’t get my brothers and sisters in Christ to show love without a court order, but those like Smokey and other employees and customers I work with will show love in their words and deeds? How is it that those in whom Love Himself lives bottle up love and refuse to give it while those who do not know Love are very free with their love? I really don’t get it.  I am ready to quit Christians, or at least quit hoping Christians will do what Jesus commanded and love each other. Christians don’t get it. Agnostics and atheists do. Something is really screwy here.

Am I wrong? Am I placing too much emphasis on love? Should I really expect my Christian friends to show me love with their words and actions? And when they don’t, do I have the right to ask them why not? Maybe love is outdated. Maybe I’m living in a fantasy world, thinking that when I am hurting I can expect others to come alongside of me and not leave. Perhaps wanting someone to say “I love you” is a wrong desire. I don’t know. I know I love others because Jesus tells me to, and because Love lives in me and I can do no less. Is it fair for me to question whether Love really lives in those who refuse to love?

Maybe I should be a Power Ranger Christian male, one who never admits he needs the love of others. One who only gives and receives side hugs. One who would rather wear a skirt than tell other guys, “I love you.” But I can’t do that. I can’t stop being who my Father made me to be. I can’t stop loving others as Jesus commanded. I’m willing to be mocked as long as my words are sincere and are given to those who need them the most. For when I give love, I am reflecting my Father, and that gives him joy, which makes me happy. So if you see me anytime soon, and I tell you or show you in some way that I love you, please know I mean it. Please receive it as from my heart, a heart surrendered to Christ. And if you want to tell me you love me, that will be just fine.

176 thoughts on “Quitting Christians

  1. This is one of the truest things I’ve read in a long time. I have been through this EXACT scenario, only with double the experience, both in church and in the Christian ministry in which I work. I would give my eye teeth for a “young, tatted up agnostic” to hang out with, but my workplace would not dare hire one. The worst part is that when I was well and at my best, I made a point of going to extremes to help others at their low points: sitting through other people’s chemotherapy, watching them and taking them to lunch, sending cards, throwing them parties, etc. during their bouts of depression, listening to problems, you name it. In fact, the very person whose cancer saga I spent 4 years dealing with told me to “snap out of” my depression, and that I was doing it “just to get attention.” Ouch.

    I know the Bible talks about sowing and reaping and “if you want a friend, be a friend,” but I have definitely not reaped what I sowed. I wish someone somewhere could explain those verses. My brain knows they have to be true, but they don’t feel true.

    Like

  2. I clicked on this from a friend’s page. I’m not a Christian, a monotheist, or even a theist at all. And still, I have some thoughts for you.

    First, I’m sorry you’re going through this. It’s got to be hard and I wish you the best.

    Second, I think “Christian” is an ineffective filter through which to look for help. I think you should be looking for good friends, not good Christians. Good friends are rare beasts, indeed, and I don’t think you’re more or less likely to find them in any one particular religion. Cultivate people who care about you and care about them in return. That’s really the only way to live in this world. Skip the Christian/not Christian dichotomy.

    Also, we live in a society where men in particular are taught, time and again, never to reveal their feelings, never to admit to weakness or need, or sadness or fear. This is sad, to me, because it cuts men off from their own rich emotional lives. You mention that you reached out to pastors, to Mike, to elders…. all the pronouns you use are male pronouns. Consider reaching out to women, instead. You may find The Good Men Project an interesting place to hang out and talk about the emotional lives of men.

    Finally, I noticed how often you had to point out that you meant platonic love instead of romantic love. Consider that you may be getting rejected because these men are terrified that they might be considered gay or homosexual to show affection or love, even platonic love, to another man. Consider how toxic this is and how it’s affecting your life. Consider, maybe, leaving a church that fosters such a toxic environment.

    I wish you the best and I’m sorry your church has failed you.

    Like

  3. I’m glad you found a church where you can get support. I’m also not at all surprised that it was in a Lutheran church. I was raised Lutheran, then tried being Catholic because their theology seemed more logical to me. I left the Catholic church when I realized that most Catholics did not seem to get charity the way Lutherans do.

    I’m still not sure about the theology, but I do know that a church where love and gentleness to your fellow Christians is the way to show you love God is superior to a church where just praying on your knees indicates love of God.

    Like

  4. As a completely random person who ended up following a link to this blog, I have no standing to ask this, but as an artist with severe chronic depression I’ll say it anyway:

    PLEASE stop romanticizing depression as artistic, deep or profound.

    Depression is debilitating. It is chemical. It is not being able to get out of bed for no reason, when your life is fine.

    Depression means no art, no writing, no creating, because everything feels pointless and nothing matters.

    The poisonous idea that mental illness somehow goes hand-in-hand with creativity stops many people from getting the help that they need for fear that they will somehow lose the creativity that depression is already preventing them from fully using.

    This idea can literally help deliver people to their deaths.

    Please stop.

    Like

  5. I believe that you are onto something, Samantha. Christians have too often been sold on the idea that they ought to be better than human instead of better humans, and in attempting/pretending to be that they are not free to embrace their weakness and the weaknesses of others fully.

    I have come more and more to the conclusion that people just suck and it just so happens that some of those people are christians. It does seem though, that there is a bit too much within churchianity that helps the suck factor of chritians to be so high.

    I am sorry for your stuggles with depression, Jeff. There is no real excuse and you should not lower the bar. I have struggled with similar issues with finding real family-esque fellowship within the church and am sadly resigned to finding out if my tribe dwells elsewhere.

    Like

  6. Lee, I am horrified at how you were treated but can’t say I’m totally surprised.

    You said,
    “I know the temptations a man goes through when he’s alone. I want you to tell me the truth…Are you looking at pornography?” Though I told him I wasn’t, he insisted, “Well, I know you probably are, and I just want you to know if you get tempted, you can call me.” I thanked him for his “support”.’

    Ah yes, the assumption that married people are never guilty of sexual sin, and married men never look at pornography. LOL.

    The prejudices and stereotypes against the unmarried that so many Christians have is revolting.

    Like

  7. @ KC, I’m sorry you were let down by other Christians too.

    I try to do actual, concrete things to help people if and where I can, because just words alone can be so empty.

    I’m glad you had a friend or two who really helped you out.

    A lot of Christians totally fail the compassion test. Nobody wants their pain diminished, nobody wants to be lectured, blamed, or judged- especially when they are hurting, but many Christians do this to people on a recurring basis.

    Like

  8. Sara, I am sorry for your loss. My mom, who I was quite close too, died a few years ago, and it was terrible. I either was ignored by family and friends who are Christians, or I received platitudes and judgment when I went to other Christians for comfort, so I know what that is like. (And some of these people had experienced the death of someone close to them, but this didn’t make them any more sensitive to my plight.)

    You said, “If I expect love from them, the least I can do is hold myself to the same standard. Loves and empathy go hand in hand. ”

    A lot of people feel too ashamed or shy about asking for help, and unfortunately, many Christians have been socialized to think from preachers that getting their needs met is selfish, so they don’t bother to ask.

    So I would encourage any Christian going thru a tough spell, clearly state to your church members, preacher, and Christian friends that you are going thru a tough time and spell out exactly what you need and want from them. I know that can be hard if you suffer from depression or are in grief, and I know Christians should be intelligent enough to help you without you asking point blank, but that is the way it is. If you don’t ask for the help you need and want you are most likely not going to receive it.

    Warning, though – even though I summoned up the courage and told several Christian family / friends what I needed in my time of grief, some of them still blew me off, while the rest of them judged/ lectured me. But it doesn’t hurt to try. You definitely will not get the help you want if you do not ask for it.

    Like

  9. I am so sorry Suzanne. That is lousy.

    But it seems to be very common among a lot of Christians, despite the fact the Bible tells Christians (is in the book of James?) to not just quote Bible verses or theology at a starving man, but give him a loaf of bread (meet his practical needs).

    A lot of Christians like to shake a hurting person’s hand, tell them, “I’m praying for you,” or quote a Bible verse or two at them, and do nothing more.

    Like

  10. @ Dave. I think I have to disagree slightly. I don’t think it’s that complicated.

    Most people in pain don’t need, want, or are not looking for quick solutions or advice. They want what Job in the Old Testament wanted: their friends to just sit silently by them as they suffer. Hold their hand while they cry or vent.

    As for practical help – for those with depression or in mourning, one problem I see all the time is that people say “call me if you need anything,” and I wonder how sincere they are about that. Most people who are in grief or who are depressed cannot pick up a phone and ask for anything, because they are too sad, it takes too much effort, and some feel too embarrassed or ashamed to ask someone else for help.

    I just don’t buy ignorance or awkwardness as an excuse anymore. Spend any time at all on forums for people in grief, or just google for something like, “how do I help my mourning friend or depressed friend,” and there are tips galore on what one can do (as far as practical help, show up to the person’s door with food in hand for them – just do it, do not say to the person, “call me if you want food,” and do not wait for them to ask, because nine times out of ten, they will not call you – which is what I think most people are counting on when they say “just call me if you need anything!”)

    I think what needs to be discussed is what Christians should NOT do or say to hurting people. As I mentioned in my earlier post on this page, Christians frequently give harmful, rude, critical, or judgmental comments to hurting people, or comments that diminish the pain the person is in. You would think it is common sense not to do that, but lots of them do it anyhow.

    Christians will usually sit there and blame you for your situation or pain, even if you are not to blame. They will quote Bible verses at you when you tell them you have depression (or anxiety, or whatever problem you’re going through), which is nothing more than “Christianese- cliche’- giving” and makes the recipient feel worse, not better.

    If Christians cannot be supportive, the very least they can do is refrain from causing more pain via insensitive comments.

    Like

  11. I just posted that “authentic power” quote to Facebook. 🙂

    Nice humble statement. Good reminder for me, too. Jesus as the Servant-King.

    Like

  12. “Love each other. This is my command: Love each other. Not a suggestion, not a helpful thought. A command.”

    THOU SHALT LOVE ME!!!

    Wow. Well, then. I’ll get to that.

    Like

  13. You know, I call Little Sal my parrot. She gets on my shoulder each morning waiting to lap the milk at the bottom of my cereal bowl. But no poop on the shoulder. Cats are pretty civilized.

    Like

  14. It helps to look for grace wherever you can get it, and for some reason Tom Waits’ drunken songs help. God does meet us in physical and ordinary ways, and they’ll differ for each of us.

    Like

  15. He had applications on hand for concealed weapons permits. He had posters for the NRA. He had an “assault broom” on display (a broom with pistol-grip, magazine and scope, painted black, with a sign that read “We will SWEEP from office those who TREAD on our 2nd Amendment rights.”).

    Zardoz? Not a problem. They love videos in that church.

    And the mask would be just about right with the 2nd Amendment T-shirt that he wore.

    This is a very small church but also very influential in that the pastor (a retired car dealer) also controls and bankrolls the area’s only Christian school, grades K-12, where the congregation meets.

    Even scarier than the pastor/founder is the preacher whom they’ve chosen to succeed him. He preached the sermon that morning as a final round in his candidacy and later accepted the pastoral position. Flags and patriotism and the American Way, and Jesus too.

    To the former pastor/founder’s credit (the guy with the gun strapped on him), he at least behaved himself and preached a salvation message and didn’t make a huge deal of the gun. Except that it was strapped to him.

    I drive by there a lot and I fear the flags out front. The biggest American flag in the state, with smaller American flags on each side, just like on Calvary’s Hill.

    Like

  16. A good, christian answer is that you not blessed in that area because you haven’t given it up to Jeezuz. And the next sermon series is all about how you too can give it all up and be all in! Chip Ingram calls this the ‘vending machine god’.

    Somewhere I recently read that one of the problems with our self-help christianity is that we are relying on the sinful nature to correct the sinful nature.

    More to the idea of christian love. At men’s group I mentioned that most christians I know are much more loving, more Christ-like, when they let their christian (guard) down. The response at my table was that Satan disguises himself in thngs that look good. I’m starting to think the ‘the greatest of these’ means that more words are used in stating it, not the meaning of the command. Seems Proverbs is more biblical than Christs words.

    Like

  17. Jeff, I told a Pastor in my church I was feeling suicidal when I was in a terrible time like you and he told me I would never do that all I needed to do was go home and clean my house. He had his secretary take me home and stay with me to help me clean…MY ALREADY CLEAN HOUSE!!!! Thankfully in that same church there were people who did just love me and came to me to show that love in so many ways. I would have never healed with out them. Now I have a chronic illness that forces me to be home most of the time and since we moved and are in another church, I get no phone calls, no cards or outreach. It used to hurt me emotionally but I have since realized it is not about me but the people in the church. I even met with the Pastor to talk about this and nothing has changed. I am so grateful to neighbors and family who are there for me and the Lord himself ministers to me in my need. I try to be the loving and gracious caring friend since I have learned in the hard places how precious others like this have been to me. Thanks for you honesty.

    Like

  18. I’d actually like to see him do it. Shows how absurd things have gotten. Extra credit if he delivers the sermon wearing a Zardoz-head mask. Because…

    Sean Connery + red speedos + hooker boots + flying stone head + GUNS = WEIRD CITY.

    Like

  19. I really empathize with this and I’ve been walking a similar path.

    My husband and I joined a church plant early last year and five months later, my mom passed away. She had been sick for some time and I shared about the struggles with that and asked for prayer on occasion. The group was very tight knit and I felt like an outsider most of the time, even though I knew many of the people from other contexts. After returning from the funeral and caring for my mom during her last week no one said a thing to me. We had also just moved into a new home and didn’t have a working kitchen due to some renovations. I had been hoping that some folks would see the need for some help and care but no one in the church did. My boss, who isn’t a Christian, on the other other hand, did and he and his wife brought over a meal and were sympathetic.

    Later, we spoke to our pastor about our disappointment and hope that things would have been different and he was grieved about it. The people of my church had blinders on. The pain of it all was real and our disappointment was justified, BUT, that being said, I had my own blinders on. As many others have pointed out, we’re Christians because we know we can’t meet God’s perfect standard on our own. We’re all going to fail one another.

    My takeaway from all of that was to be more gracious with my church family. Many of them are very young and have never experienced loss or even sickness. It’s hard to know how much a caring or helping hand can mean if you’ve never needed one yourself. Love covers a multitude of sins. If I expect love from them, the least I can do is hold myself to the same standard. Loves and empathy go hand in hand. So, when my mind wants to dwell on the ways other people fail to love me well, I hope to always remember the ways I fail to do the same thing.

    I still struggle with depression, with the loss of my mom, and now the impending loss of my step-dad who now lives with me. I still struggle every day with the lie that I’m not loved or valued because of x/y/z. As I’ve worked to get to know the people in my church better, I’ve learned that they too often feel isolated, on the outside, and unloved. Every single one of us struggles with these feelings and it’s time to be real with one another. None of us are alone in this. Those of us who, through hard circumstances have been shown the unmet needs of ourselves and others owe it to those around us to speak the truth in love. I want to love like Jesus and I pray that those in my church and those in other churches will be inspired, throughout their lives, to climb new heights of love as they seek to be more like their Savior.

    “Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace:…” 1 Peter 4:8-10

    Like

  20. Ted, your suggestions resonate!

    On a light note —

    (1) “Get a cat. No, seriously. This works only if you’re a cat-lover, but a dog will do, or a mynah bird. ”

    I have parrots. It works!

    Of course, it also gets you covered in bird poo… and gives you a giant mess of tossed food to clean up everyday. Oh and did I mention that parrots are at once insane and emotionally codependent? This can have its disadvantages.

    Then there’s the trusty dog. Guess what, quoth he, there is poo on your bed! Also, your pillow was delicious.

    But hey, it helps remove notions of being in control, right? In sum, I recommend pet ownership.

    Like

  21. Although it sounds trite to say that great art comes from pain given some kind of expression, there is quite a bit of truth to the statement. It’s not mistake that you find behind some of the most wonderful writing and thinking some great difficulty.

    No doubt my perceptions are shaped by the fact that I have a melancholic personality, but I really can’t figure out why more people are not put off by the “happy” and “upbeat” and “inspirational” tone that American evangelical culture wants to take – not just some of the time, but all of the time. Seriously, it takes a break only when it wants to be angry about something (such as, “all those liberals trying to get in the way of everyone living the good American happy life of faith.”)

    Incidentally, I don’t think all evangelicals are like this in person, and I can think of many contrary examples among people I have known. The public image is a fiction, as most are. But motivational speakers, music, and publishing houses of the movement have tried very hard to give an upbeat-happy impression and a lot of believers measure themselves against it. The old fundamentalist notion of the triumphant life buttresses this structure. You’ve got to bust through the platitude-tossing to get to a real human conversation. And I usually get the impression that everyone is a little relieved when this happens!

    Like

  22. Ted: love your list, whether unsolicited or not. Best takeaway: know your triggers, get a plan to deal with them. This often means knowing who/what to avoid. For me, this meant a church change, but it might not mean that for others. Love the pet and music angles, God has a way of meeting us in the most physical and ordinary of ways. Thanks for posting your list.

    Like

  23. Ack, sorry about all the typos. Typing on one’s phone is such a bother.

    The last line was esp. bad. I meant to write: I’m still thinking about the one line from Pope Francis the other day: Do not be afraid of tenderness. Not only “be tender.” But: Do not be *afraid* of being tender. So true.

    Like

  24. “My theory is that in the fundagelical lifestyle, everyone is so close to the edge of maintaining this image of the victorious Christian life that it takes all their time and energy and there is just no margin left for friendships, let alone the kind of extraordinary love that Jesus commands.”

    There is a lot of truth in this. When you are done worrying about getting your doctrine correct, and then following all the rules, and then feeling the way you are supposed to feel as a “spirit-filled” believer, and so on and so on, how much mental energy is left? This is an unintended consequence of seeing Christian life as faith –> personal relationship –> getting things right. To not have things right, this is not just embarrassing, it is terrifying because of the questions it raises about the one thing that is supposed to matter. Result? Unintended self-absorption. And fear of dealing with other people’s struggles and your own honestly? It is terrifying to confront depression, cancer, doubt, etc. not “have an answer.”

    Of course, theology and practice are not just to blame here; most people in any crowd would prefer to duck and hide. But it is a sad irony that the most religious are frequently the most distracted. We get so busy moving around the furniture of our interior lives, that it is actually harder–or at least no easier–to get over ourselves.

    I’m still thinking about the one line from Pope Francis the other day: Do not be afraid of tenderness. Not only do not be tender. But: Do not be *afraid* of being tender. So true.

    Like

  25. Not so different, HUG. The service I mentioned is online, and they showed several video clips, one of them the “Freedom Speech” from the movie Braveheart, where Mel Gibson, painted in blue, rallies the Scottish troops. “They may take our lives but they’ll never take our freedom!”

    Same thing as Zardoz, but with spears and swords instead of guns. Don’t tell the pastor about Zardoz or he’ll use that video next Sunday.

    Like

  26. Jeff, Maybe the answer is that clinical depression is not a visible wound. Therefore, people in the Church don’t understand the overwhelming depts of pain, confusion and hopelessness this condition aflicts on a person. Unless you’re bleeding or in a hospital bed it’s hard for the non-initiated to appreciate how deep the suffering is. The brothers and sisters are not perfect and when you feel well enough you should forgive them. Your agnostic friend may be an answer. Go and find a group, like NAMI, and you will be with a crowd that understands and can support you. Also, get on the right medication. Difficult thing to do, because it’s trial and error, but you may be able to find the right one. I pray the Lord would lift this darkness from you and that you would get the support you need.

    Like

  27. I am not religious and I just happened to stumble upon this article, but I’d like to offer my two cents. Maybe some people will be offended by this, but I honestly do not mean any hostility or offence, Just speaking my mind.
    The reason I think atheists and agnostics tend to openly care more is because they are not blindly trusting in a god or higher power to protect you. They are not holding you accountable for your happiness, or interpreting your unhappiness as a rejection of God, or an inability to let God and Jesus into your life to the extent you should. They are not going to assume your depression is born of a refusal to appreciate everything God gives you, good or bad. They are not going to try to reassure you with, “everything happens for a reason, God has a plan for us all”. Atheists and agnostics are more likely to think, “Life can be crap, and we need to look after each other, because there’s nothing to suggest God is doing it for us”. They are not going to feel that praying rather than acting will be of use to you. Plenty of atheists and agnostics know love and empathy… else how they could be “free with it” as you claim? People are either sensitive to other people’s needs, or they are not. People either actually read books and discuss the darker aspects of life with others, or they don’t. People either take the time to think about what it’s like to be another person, in a different, more difficult set of circumstances, or they don’t. It has nothing to do with whether or not you believe in God. It has to do with whether or not you are compassionate and at least semi-intelligent.

    Like

  28. Hey! I have a 15 year old car and lost my professional job as well! And no, I don’t often get around to cleaning my home either. And you’re right. I now have more time love others. I like it!

    Like

  29. And now for something completely different:

    But, to frustrate me, our local paper carried a story last week about a nearby pastor who held a “Second Amendment Sunday” service, during which flags were prominent and he carried a loaded 9mm Ruger semi-automatic pistol on his belt…

    Second Amendment Sunday at the First Church of Zardoz…

    Like

  30. Lee,

    What your friend did for you was very cool… and very rare…. those are bonds to cherish…

    Like

  31. My wife and I have noticed this same thing. Almost universally, our non-Christian friends are there for us and for each other when hard times hit. Also, almost universally, our Christian friends stay away like you have the plague if things aren’t going well and it becomes obvious.

    My theory is that in the fundagelical lifestyle, everyone is so close to the edge of maintaining this image of the victorious Christian life that it takes all their time and energy and there is just no margin left for friendships, let alone the kind of extraordinary love that Jesus commands. We saw it in our own lives. It took a lot of hard times to get us to see what needed to change. Now that we we no longer have professional jobs and we drive a single 15 year old car and live in a tiny tract home that almost never gets cleaned, we finally have free time to show some love.

    Like

  32. Excellent post and discussion about as real as it gets. My experience is that it takes a lot of tragedy and suffering to make the everyday Christian into the kind of Christian that Jeff wishes we were. And just that, not to be codified into some “doctrine of suffering” or “sanctification.” The actual individual people in our lives really gotta be our priority over any program or institution or anything else. That’s all. That’s all we’re called to do. Really boring junk like taking an elderly person who can’t drive to the doctor or supermarket; writing to someone in prison and putting a few bucks into their “account”; passing along job leads and actually doing the go-between work to get someone hired; maybe just stepping back and giving someone space when they need it. Boring. No big stadium rallies or miraculous healings needed. Individual people are what matters, not programs or conferences or “doctrines” that are really just political positions. But again, it’s the suffering that makes the difference, I’m certain, and not how faithful you are to attend, or to have quiet time, or to memorize verses, or to “win” souls. The suffering. I know this is not profound or anything. I’ve written previously about a tragedy that happened in a church here last year, more than a year ago, it was really horrible, it changed the lives of everyone it touched in a really profound way more than any sermon series or morning devotions or stadium rally ever ever could. Doesn’t make us better or more sanctified. But I think we’re a little more sensitive to what really matters and what doesn’t.

    Like

  33. Jeff and all of you who have been left along the road,

    In the story of the Good Samaritan, i must admit that i resemble the priest and the levite more than the Samaritan. I have known people who were hurting but instead chose to be preoccupied with church things that i thought were more important.

    It is an indictment on christians that we have our priorities so messed up and that those who do not claim to be Jesus followers exhibit more love.

    For this, i ask your forgiveness.
    Tom

    Like

  34. Thank you!!

    We have lost our ability to do the hard work of 1) asking ‘what can I do’ or 2) taking the resposibility of going that extra step to address the needs we are aware of. We don’t know what to say to, for example, the grieving widow, so rather than just sit with her in silence, we avoid her all together. We are too busy thinking that being Godly is all about being happy.

    I’ve had similar experiences. My husband went to the other side of the world with the Army leaving me home with a one year old. Virtual silence from the church….unless they had a job they wanted me to volunteer for. But most recently was the hardest because it involved my now teenaged daughters: my nephew battled Leukemia for six years (you don’t want to know some of the inconsiderate things that were said to us over those years) and when he died last year, despite their youth group leader being aware, their Sunday school teachers being aware……the sound of silence.

    There is a Max Lucado quote I love “Dorothy wasn’t the only one to walk with the brainless, heartless and spineless”

    Thanks to people like you Jeff, who are open and honest with their experiences, I am finally, maybe, beginning to believe that perhaps its not ME. Maybe I’m not just invisible, maybe they are really bad at this community thing.

    Like

  35. I wonder if the issue you refer to, Jeff, is one expression of love that you are not receiving.

    In my ministry, I realize more and more how important a “listening, attentive and welcoming presence” is to individuals, particularly those of us who struggle with darkness (whatever form that may be). I just do not encounter many Christian individuals who are truly present and attentive. Often we are so busy with our own agendas, plans, work, ministry, etc. that we hear people, but we do not offer them a safe place of hospitality by listening to them deeply.

    For me, this is an ongoing area of growth which requires me to empty myself in order to be truly present to another. The regular practice of silence or contemplative prayer (Centering Prayer is one that resonates with me) is beginning to nurture within me an attentive awareness in the present moment, where I can encounter, with open mind and open heart, God – others – and myself.

    I will pray for you and for the grace that you might encounter at least one such person.

    Shalom.

    Like

  36. I can relate. My issue was unemployment (my place of employment ceased to exist) and while people at my church gave me some obligatory sympathy, no one, and I mean no one gave me one bit of help with finding a job. There are several business owners in the congregation who surely have business connections and I know of one business owner who has hired friends of his children. Me? Nope. Not even a “Come over and we’ll talk” I applied for a job at the small business where a choir member works and never even got a phone call.

    Several church members told me just not to worry about it. God would provide (guess what? He didn’t).
    My view of the church community changed quite a bit after all this. Did I expect someone to hand me a job? No. But when I have unemployed friends, I keep my ears open and pass on connections and openings to them. I expected something more than a nod and a handshake and an admonition to trust God while they go off to their jobs….

    Like

  37. Jeff, I haven’t taken the time to read all of the posts above, but a couple of things struck me…the reactions, or NON-reactions, you get from Christians most likely are due to fear. Fear that what you are going through may be due to some hidden sin, fear that what you are suffering just may not respond to their prayers in ways that they hoped it would, and fear in trying to deal with something that they have not the slightest idea of how to handle in others.

    On one dark level Christians really do not believe that prayer CAN do anything other than soothe their own conscience, therefor they don’t want to follow up with you because they don’t know how they can handle seeing you STILL in depression (why doesn’t he just get OVER it?). It would also plant the doubt in their mind that this whole faith enterprise is really some sort of self delusion and that if that were true then their whole profession of faith would be in vain.

    Jeff, as much as you are suffering, 99% of people just cannot relate, and those who DO show concern are part of a tiny minority who probably have that rare human gift called empathy. Despite all of the gifts of the spirit, that one attribute is NOT one of them.

    I hurt for you Jeff…

    Like

  38. I almost never use the phrase, “I will pray for you”, because I have found that to be the emptiest, loneliest sentence in the Christian mouth.

    I will pray, even cry before God for someone, but only God knows.

    And if I forget, I won’t have made a promise

    Like

  39. One other thing….

    At this moment of my life I am a very busy person. Working two jobs (one is more like a vocation), coaching, family… I suspect once I slow down I could be very susceptible to depression (as a doctor once said… I wouldn’t give myself permission to be depressed even if I was). My wife says I am not really human anymore, thats a sad statement but I suspect she is right.

    I went on retreat this weekend, the kind Michael used to write about just to get grounded again and get in touch with God… and man did it help if even for a short time. So I suspect I may join you one day.

    Like

  40. Jeff,

    I am sorry to hear about what you are/have been going through.

    Part of this could be a Christian thing. People where masks and some Christians can put on a mask as well, as if they become someone else and go into Christian speak. Maybe they don’t want anyone to rain on their parade.

    But I think there are a couple of other things at work these days. The first is a certain inwardness, maybe narcisism that many people possess. Part of that is fueled by social media which has changed how we communicate in person. Some of that inwardness is us being too focused on ourselves to see or want to experience someone elses pain. Some are just too ‘busy’.

    Second is that there are some people that, because of their personality or shyness just can’t engage at that level. I would suspect that many here who offer words of encouragement through a blog, would find it a lot harder to do in person.

    Did you ever meet that person who you seemed to click with immediately? These folks are usually wired right to handle deeper connections. I have a pagan friend who is like that. I don’t even know him very well. But we can go deep quickly if needed. I can’t do that with everybody. I wish I could. And its not because he is pagan. He could be another Catholic or Muslim or secular….

    There are some who are very black and white. These folks tend to be more judgemental and aren’t usually open to others needs if they don’t fit into their created world quite correctly. Some of these folks live in the non-denom world and wear such thick masks that I know I’ll never get past the correct cliche response.

    To sum it up, I hope someone gives you a big hug, tells you they love you and sits down and listens without talking. That would be cool.

    Take care,

    Radagast

    Like

  41. Seems that the majority of creative types throughout history were imbued with some sort of mental illness, whether depression/bi-polar/or hyperactivity that often drove the need to create. As a practicing artist and educator in a school of art and design in a big state university in a big state, I see this trait in the vast majority of truly creative artist types that come through our program in studio art. Most of these young people are in turn taught and mentored by faculty that carry these same traits (and, yes, I am one of them!).

    Having attended churches where a premium is put on outward going, extrovert, happy shiny people holding hands behavior, I often felt alienated and an outlier in a community that almost went to extremes to avoid anything that didn’t conform to its Prozac-tinted version of relational aesthetics. Hard to be part of a community that is all Hillsong all the time when one is all Joy Division on a rainy day.

    Bottom line form my experience is that artist types generally confuse “normal” folk with our uncertainly gained from a life of not knowing when the next peak or valley is going to erupt from the depths of our twisted tortured souls. Or something like that anyway.

    Always wondered if Jesus was merely a carpenter, which would register to me as a pragmatist, or an artist, which would only add another layer to the reasons he was misunderstood and hated by those who demand and need structure more than color in their lives.

    Like

  42. Joni Mitchell [here insert increased heart rate and respiration] said it as eloquently as Chesterton. Instead of the bland “I always feel depressed around the holidays” she wrote,

    “It’s coming on Christmas,
    They’re cutting down trees,
    They’re putting up reindeer,
    And singing songs of joy and peace.
    Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on.”

    (“River” 1970)

    Like

  43. I think people are too caught up in God’s Law. There are too many religious nuts and people trying to be the most knowledgeable ‘christian’. I feel blessed because I’m surrounded by a Loving youth group and loving family friends at my church. I think that the core message about God is his Love, Grace and Mercy and that’s something that my church and christian friends have been very good at demonstrating. I just wanted to let people know that I think younger generations are realizing this and it’s something that is starting to change and will dramatically spread soon 🙂

    Like

  44. I would place myself under Evangelical Christian more than any other title and I’m studying Art and Design atm. I write songs, poetry, dance and choreograph. I always explore very deep topics and leave people crying with my performances as I reach into deep, emotional places. I just realized that I sound like I’m trying to show off :/ All I’m trying to say is that I’m a Happy Clappy because I know what Jesus has done for me and when I spend time in God’s presence I’m filled with a Joy and peace that I can’t find anywhere else =D But life is not so easy and not something that we can be so Happy clappy about. I personly just don’t agree with your comment because I went through depression and I guess, as you named it, I’m one of those ‘depressos’. As long as I spend time dwelling on God, I’m able to have a smile 🙂

    Like

  45. Jeff,

    I don’t suffer from depression – although I was pretty depressed during a really difficult time of hardship. I’ve experienced what you’ve stated here, and I believe the church in general has “lost it.” Worse than all the people who never cared were all the people who said they cared, made numerous promises to help, then broke all of those promises.

    Like

  46. Christmas is especially bad for a depresso attack, especially because of the Constant Forced Cheerfulness surrounding you.

    “Hell hath no torment worse than Constant Forced Cheerfulness.”
    — G.K.Chesterton, “Three Tools of Death” (Father Brown Mystery)

    Like

  47. Maybe someone else already said this, but I think those around us that we might think “don’t know Love” actually do know Love. They just don’t call Love by the same name we do.

    Like

  48. Jeff,

    I’m so sorry to hear about your struggle with severe depression. My hopes and thoughts are with you and that there are brighter days ahead.

    I’m not a Christian anymore so cannot comment on relationships within a Christian congregation but what I can say is that my experiences were at times somewhat similar.

    Some thoughts: accept love where it is freely offered regardless of religious predisposition, race, gender preference or any other classification system we sometimes apply to each other. A little love goes a long way and just a few people who truly care is enough to give you wings on those black days. Since coming to a place where certainty is a luxury and ambiguity and doubt are no longer threatening, relationships are more important than when care and concern were religious edicts or instruments to obtain an outcome. If all we have is each other then relationships are precious. I am no longer able to offload those cares and concerns hoping that Jesus / God will pick up the tab. Also, your experience may be different, but I found there is a world of difference if someone says “I care about you and am concerned” than someone saying “Jesus loves you.”

    Take care.

    Like

  49. I’m so sorry that you didn’t get the responses you were looking for from your fellow Christians. It’s true there is much room for growth in most gaggles of Gospel believers, but I think you could also be a bit more understanding. Most folks have no idea what to do for someone with depression. Your desire for them to just love you seems completely obvious from your standpoint but HOW they’re supposed to do that may not be at all clear to them. Let’s face it, most of us freeze up when presented with difficult and highly emotional situations. I once declared to the brother of a woman whose funeral I attended that “we just loved her to death”! A number of the folks you mentioned said they would pray. As a believer you can’t give a situation higher attention than that. But then you were looking for more practical expressions. We all need to be better prepared to help those around us who are in need, but all of us could also demonstrate a little grace toward each other.

    Like

  50. Jeff, my heart breaks for you, and I also know what you’re talking about. You ask if you put too much emphasis on love. Only if Jesus did. Love is the essential thing, and the church doesn’t know how to love. I believe with you that Jesus commands me to love my brothers and sisters, therefore I really have no choice.

    Please don’t give up loving others and expecting love from others. Be like the apostle John who continually preached love. There are some out there who do get it. My wife and I have found a community of faith where there is genuine love, after years of searching.

    Above all, rest in the love of Abba. Sometimes he is the only place to find love, but he is always there. I don’t know you, other than what I have read from you, but I am your brother and I love you. If you ever decide to move, come to Rock Hill, SC. 🙂

    Like

  51. Like Alan F., I would probably fail at showing you what you needed to be shown, Jeff. The “I will pray for you” response seems so trite, doesn’t it…and yet, I’ve used it more than once, more than twice… Seventy times seven, maybe…? This is a great article that I hope will help me examine my own actions when confronted with someone’s pain. Compassion, Lord…please give me more compassion!

    Like

  52. Yeah, about that, HUG. I wouldn’t call depression a long-term spiritual gift, but it may very well be from God in the short-term. For some people. Once in a while, heavily qualified, because it can also be deadly, and that ain’t from God.

    A woman who used to live next door went through a marriage breakup about 20 years ago, her alcoholic husband left her with four little kids and no way to pay her way. So she moved away, went through a spell of depression, and her mother tried to get her to take Prozac to snap out of it. She refused, and I agreed with her when she told me years later. Sometimes you do need to go through a grieving period, after a death or divorce, and this can be a godly thing; but beyond a certain point it’s deadly and can even be demonic. Sorry for that last part, but it’s also a possibility.

    Like

  53. Jeff, this comes a little too close to home. I don’t know what to say without getting myself more depressed, but I will say that you are not alone in this, and the comments bear that out.

    There was some discussion about confession following Jennifer E’s comment at 8:07 am (greg r’s reply and Jennifer’s to him). I think we evangelicals are incompetent in the confession department, and our pastors have no training whatsoever in counseling and even less interest. Also, with the emphasis on soul-winning (Great Commission over the Great Commandment) individuals get thrown under the bus (HUG’s phrase).

    What to do?
    1) I find myself avoiding certain triggers. For example,
    –A ) I have avoided a certain person in our church for the past several months, largely by not going to a bible class that he attends. I found that I was there as a watchdog, trying to give balance to some of the law-and-obedience points that he’d make. And I’m tired of being a watchdog. Being around evangelicals during the election last fall was hard enough.
    –B) I don’t listen to Christian radio (although a Catholic channel I tuned into while driving was pretty good). I get depressed and angry with the evangelical/fundamentalist one in our area.
    –C. A little left of the spectrum, I stopped clicking on to huffingtonpost about six weeks ago and haven’t regretted it. Too negative, too judgmental, and way to much kardashian (what in hell is a kardashian, anyway?). But, to frustrate me, our local paper carried a story last week about a nearby pastor who held a “Second Amendment Sunday” service, during which flags were prominent and he carried a loaded 9mm Ruger semi-automatic pistol on his belt, just to make the point that government has gotten way out of control. He made his point, but also made the front page, and for all I know huffingtonpost has carried it. But it seems I can’t even read local news anymore without getting headache and sick to my stomach. On a brighter note, a different local pastor ended his weekly radio spot (about nature, and therefore not on Christian radio) with a Psalm, a proverb, then his own quip “Thou shalt not suffer the madman to bring a loaded gun into the sanctuary.”

    2). Get a cat. No, seriously. This works only if you’re a cat-lover, but a dog will do, or a mynah bird. There are times when I think that my only joy is sitting down in the sunny corner of the kitchen in the afternoon with a cup of coffee, a book, and Little Sal on my lap. Until she starts chewing on my wrist because it’s almost time for her dinner… But at least that doesn’t depress me, even though it reminds me of human nature.

    3) Listen to Tom Waits’ album “Small Change” or the equivalent. Now THERE’S a man with problems. Songs that tell of being “wasted and wounded” or having a “bad liver and a broken heart, and I’ve drunk me a river since you tore me apart…” or that “the piano has been drinking, not me” or about the guy who “got drunk and never even told her that he cared”. I feel great listening to Tom Waits.

    I don’t see how any of this could possibly help, Jeff, but I love you anyway and I hope you’ll understand.

    Like

  54. Authentic power is service. ….. Only those who serve with love are able to protect.
    Pope Francis

    Would that so many of us who play pastor could take those words to heart!

    Like

  55. I so understand what you’re all saying. I had this experience when tending for a parent with Alzheimer’s and wanted help from my church family, emotional support, there’s nothing really that they could have done otherwise, but nothing! And I did ask and I was there every Sunday and Wednesday p.m. and often with my ill mother. Also had asked prayer support for a struggle I was having with sin, not a great sin, but one that troubled me….I confessed it to several men of the church…Yes, they’d pray for me…but none ever followed up, not the pastors nor anyone else. When I asked myself what it would take for them to realize that I was hurting, if I needed to stand up in the servie and slit my wrists so they’d realize….I knew I had to make a change. In my case, I left for a liturgical, “high” Lutheran church where I got the support on both issues that I needed in the “evangelical” church where I had been a member. And the Lutheran doctrine of the Theology of the Cross helped me to make sense of both issues, that the struggles are not without meaning, but that God is with me.
    I could go on, but needed to make this brief as I write from a break at work. Dan L.

    Like

  56. Unless, of course, the only way to build the kingdom of God is to expand our own personal ecclesial empires.

    Which appears to be a VERY popular way.

    Like

  57. I would be the first to admit that some of the most hateful, spiteful, and downright immature behavior I have ever witnessed was from Christians – even pastors. But on the other hand, some of the most humble, gracious, and loving acts I have ever experienced came from Christians.

    “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” — Charles Dickens

    Like

  58. A long time ago I realized that many people in church are uncomfortable with the messiness of life. IMHO Evangelicals have been programmed to either fix things or have an answer.
    So what do you do when you have no answer?

    “ELOI! ELOI! LEMA SABACTHANI!”

    Like

  59. P.S. Maybe this is the reason why Evangelical Christians can’t seem to produce any art or writing or music beyond Jesus Junk knockoffs. Because depressos like us have no place in a Shiny Happy Clappy “Are We SMIIIIILING Today?” Body of Christ.

    So we wander the Post-Evangelical Wilderness and take our art and writing and music to the mainstream.

    Like

  60. Many years ago, a writer contact in Louisville related to me how a guest speaker at his church once asked him “Have you ever considered that depression might be your spiritual gift?”

    Because it is often the dark and strong emotions that empower art and writing.

    Like

  61. I hear you brother. I got slaughtered by Christians last Christmas. I will never be the same. I’m so sorry for the pain in your life that makes breathing a chore and being upright a Herculean task. May God lift you up and bring more friends like Adam to be his human hands for you when you need some one to hold yours and tell you it’s going to be ok.

    Like

  62. I struggle with anxiety but as I high pro-file figure in our church, I do receive the love and concern of more than 1 person.

    People are sinners Jeff, it is precisely because we do not love that we need Grace. Eugene Peterson in The Contemplative Pastor says

    The benefit to seeing people as sinners is that you are never disappointing when they act like it.

    I’ve maintained being a Christian and Pastor by never expecting anyone (including Christians) to be any more than sinners will always fall short.

    Yes it’s sad. Come quickly Lord Jesus. Kyrie Elesion

    Like

  63. From Pope Francis Installation: “Here I would add one more thing: caring, protecting, demands goodness, it calls for a certain tenderness. In the Gospels, Saint Joseph appears as a strong and courageous man, a working man, yet in his heart we see great tenderness, which is not the virtue of the weak but rather a sign of strength of spirit and a capacity for concern, for compassion, for genuine openness to others, for love. We must not be afraid of goodness, of tenderness!”

    Today here at IM there has been such a outpouring of genuine openness to others, genuine concern, love, tenderness. Thank-you jeff for starting this conversation and for having the strength & courage to share with us what you long for from the body of Christ.

    Like

  64. Jeff –

    I know this will be a minority opinion even here on IMonk, but I kind of thank God for my “black days”. Cheerfulness and optimism are so overrated. There are days when I am in the mood to detonate a nuclear device in the center of my city. It’s then when I hear a voice in my head “I know exactly how you feel. Look at all these dumb f*ckers, you included. Clueless as stumps every last one of you. My boy went down there and died for you and most of you could care less. The ones who do, don’t care that much. Still, what are you going to do? You just gotta keep sloggin’ on.”

    No way I want to compare my depression to yours. They way you describe your condition is like I have a cough and you have emphysema. I’m glad you got help for it, and I’m glad it is mostly under control. But I couldn’t imagine life without a few blue, and even violet lines in the spectrum. I would seem so insipid. It would be like going right to Easter without going through Golgotha, or Ash Wednesday.

    John Milton said it better than I can:

    Hence vain deluding joys,
    The brood of folly without father bred,
    How little you bested,
    Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys;
    Dwell in some idle brain,
    And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,
    As thick and numberless
    As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams,
    Or likest hovering dreams
    The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train.

    Or let my Lamp at midnight hour
    Be seen in some high lonely Tower,
    Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
    With thrice great Hermes, or unsphere
    The spirit of Plato to unfold
    What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold
    The immortal mind that hath forsook
    Her mansion in this fleshly nook:

    Like

  65. I understand what you’re saying. I also suffer from depression and even with medication and counseling some days are worse than others.

    I’m sorry you feel you have to give up looking for Christ’s love among the very people who should be providing it. Not all Christians fail in this area and I pray you find those who exemplefy that love. Know that people here hurt for you and what you’re going through. You are not alone. And you are not unloved.

    Like

  66. Wish I could send my one Oklahoma friend over to give you a hug, but I think you live in different cities. When I am really depressed, I always wish for someone to encourage me. I eventually learned to turn that around and try to give encouragement to others. What I am hearing here is you are doing something similar, still trying to give love, even when you don’t get enough back.
    Why do christians have such a poor grasp of the fact that we are supposed to be known by our love? Could it be that the pastors are too busy teaching doctrine to remind their flocks that it’s really about love? Or maybe the pastors don’t know how to love themselves, so they can’t model it for us? Maybe we need twelve step classes for the unloving!

    Like

  67. My love and prayers are going out to you, Jeff. I rarely comment on here, should thank you and the others for this wonderful blog which I have learned so much from! Back when I was in my fifties I endured about five years of depression, anxiety and panic attacks and a short period of extreme agoraphobia which nearly incapacitated me.The church I was in then tried to help, I sat in the circle while well meaning hands touched me and tried to cast IT out, also another well meaning group decided that I needed to remember forgotten childhood abuse..no luck there..but the wonderful thing that I experienced there was a young couple almost strangers to me, who insisted that I take their phone number and call anytime of the night, If i needed to have them pick me up and install me on their couch! I never needed to do so, but knowing they meant it gave me great comfort! It has been 20 years since I experienced this, I found that therapy(required by my job) and getting medical help pulled me out of it..but the kindness of my family and this young couple I still thank God for..Take care.

    Like

  68. PL,
    There’s a feeling of safety being around people who have nothing to hide because they are open. It’s freeing to live like that (although feels risky at first). When we know the truth, it sets us free.

    Like

  69. My heart breaks at your story, which resonates with me as a hospice chaplain. I think the people in our congregations have good intentions, and do take time to do the kinds of things you say here. But the efforts are often not sustained. This is the result of bad teaching, bad ecclesiology, and the loss of a “neighborhood” world in which we see those in geographical proximity to us as the people we have been called to care for most. I’ve been accused of being sentimental about longing for “Mayberry,” but it is the very loss of Mayberry that has resulted in people being too busy and too involved in commuting from place to place for goods and services that makes it easy to ignore folks in need like you who are right under our noses.

    Where, where are the pastors today who both exemplify genuine service and free people to serve others in the small ways?

    Like

  70. Eagle,

    Your questions are wonderful. What a story you have! Thank-You for sharing, I’m crying again…

    Like

  71. …which just goes to show we don’t rightly understand either. The Great Commandment and Great Commission ought to go hand in hand, not work against each other. Unless, of course, the only way to build the kingdom of God is to expand our own personal ecclesial empires.

    Like

  72. Wow. I just realized why I love this blog so much.

    Nearly everyone here is a depressive-type too.

    Like

  73. “Why are those in whom Love Himself lives so unwilling to share love with others?”

    My guess is that they are equally anxious to receive love, and often suffer from unrecognized or diagnosed depression themselves.

    One (free) book I appreciated about a pastor’s discussion of his on long ongoing battle with depression is here: http://lcms.org/page.aspx?pid=726&DocID=721 that may be helpful.

    He still keeps a blog here, http://www.darkmyroad.org/

    Like

  74. EricW…I read Take This Bread a year or two ago and I was impressed with Sara’s story and with her passion to bring Jesus to the world.

    Another book I read recently by Rolheiser which was excellent is Our One Great Act of Fidelity: Waiting for Christ in the Eucharist. Another good book is by Robert Barron simply called Eucharist. (I have been reading a lot lately.)

    Like

  75. I have a disabling physical condition. Which does not stop people from thinking that I’m depressed rather than physically ill. Whenever I asked for help with chores I couldn’t manage, I was always told to just get off the couch and do them myself. When I explained why that was not possible, they continued to try to jolly me into positive thinking “yes, you can!” No, I can’t. I tried to do it myself before I asked for help. They continued to assure me that they were helping me more by insisting that I take antidepressants, get psychotherapy, and “surprise yourself by how much you can do if you try!”

    I couldn’t even get someone from the church to travel a few blocks to set a pitcher of water next to my bed when I was running a fever. Sit with me for a few hours so I’m not alone? Too much trouble … even to those always patting themselves on the back for what loving, giving, thoughtful Christians they are.

    Like

  76. “I see a great value in rituals — they embody the gospel.”

    This is the purpose of the church. It’s never going to be a good support group and it’s always full of selfish people with many of their own problems. But what church should be doing is providing the Gospel to the broken through its rituals. The reading of the Gospel, cross-centered preaching, and then making it real by washing sinners in baptism and feeding them Christ’s body and blood to remind them they are saved and loved by God.

    Like

  77. Jeff:

    I wish I could be there with you. That’s often what’s needed – just someone to BE WITH YOU (and ME), to take away the loneliness and be there to listen and talk about whatever you want to talk about.

    May you soon find people of faith like that.

    Like

  78. PL,
    There’s a freedom found in living out the truth. The truth is that we are all broken to one extent or another. If we embrace that, the truth sets us free. We are freed by grace. We are free to extend that grace that we have been giving. We are free to love and live without judgment. It’s a lot easier (but a lot scarier at first) than living the lie. And it’s real living. Not some semblance of life.

    Like

  79. Jeff, thanks for this word and your honesty. I don’t believe that you believe all those who call themselves ‘Christians’ act this way – but too many do. Too many are like the ones very aptly described by sarahmorgan (near the top) – “They’re too busy caring only about themselves — their status, their problems, their agendas, their own happiness, their particular personal relationship with Jesus, their salvation, et cetera…”

    One could add ‘christian’ programs, ‘church’ entertainment centers, making money etc etc… But I’ve been this kind of ‘christian’ – I probably missed an opportunity to be different yesterday or last week… and again @sarahmorgan – that line of yours describes the cancer within american evangelicalism and culture in general… it’s mostly about the quest for individualistic gain at the expense of what Lesslie Newbigin calls “relatedness”, the essence of God and His Kingdom.

    Thanks for the reminder about what following Jesus is really about – loving Him and others.

    Like

  80. That I’ve walked away from religion says more about the people I met at church than it does about me. I won’t associate with people who kick you when you’re down.

    Like

  81. To say, “I’m not a counselor, but is there another way I can help you right now?” would do no damage, Paul. But I get what you are saying.

    Like

  82. Ditto. I have gotten more judgment and criticism from Christians, who are always eager to blame my troubles on me not praying enough or not being a good enough Christian … even if they know nothing about me, so have no basis to know how much I pray or how good a person I am. In EVERY crisis in my life, the Christians walked away saying “I’ll pray for you”; the non-Christians were the ones who stepped up to help. When I was broke, the Christians offered to pray up some food; the Buddhist brought me several days of pre-cooked meals. Not only saw to it that I could eat, but that I didn’t have to spend time cooking that could be used to earn money.

    Like

  83. For a time I served as a deacon in my church. There was a huge need for pastoral care during that time which fell on the deacons. There were brothers and sisters with emotional challenges and broken relationships. I’m sorry to say that I failed at providing care and showing love. I’m a quiet person, it was all I could do to just send a card or say hello or offer to pray for them. I make my living as a graphic designer — I’m a lay person. The expectation to provide counseling in these tender situations was a burden that left me paralyzed. How much further damage is done when those not gifted in counseling try to lovingly help?

    Like

  84. Jeff, Thanks, and I agree: there’s not a one-size-fits all – and I apologize if I came off as dismissive. I’ve dealt with similar issues in the past, and I know the benefit of medication, diet, and even just being outside on a nice spring day. Hearing “why don’t you just X” can be exceptionally frustrating, and that’s kind of what I was getting at.

    Why don’t we love? We don’t think we have that much to offer, or we don’t know how to offer what we have. My experience is that just listening is a large part of the battle, and following up is the other.

    Like

  85. Jennifer, your comments remind me of why I like hanging out with addicts and alcoholics in recovery. They know they are broken, they freely admit it, and they reach out to others around them with no judgment. I would much rather be with those who lay their lives open and don’t try to be superhuman.

    Like

  86. “My question remains: Why are those in whom Love Himself lives so unwilling to share love with others?”

    Perhaps we’ve turned Christianity into somethings to be “mastered” rather than received.

    Like

  87. I wish I had magic words to make your depression go away. But I don’t. And none of the pat phrases we come up with (such as “God is in control”) really help. I’m also a depression sufferer, and to an extent, I feel your pain. Literally and figuratively.

    I posted a link to your article on my FB page.

    Like

  88. Jeff-

    I was on my lunch break and I pulled out my Android and read this and needed to respond. Jeff I want you to know how much you are loved. You are valuable. You are gift. And it has nothing to do with keeping I-Monk going. You are loved for who you are. PERIOD. What can we do for you? Do you want some of us to call you? Text you? Visit you? Maybe in the future some of us can make a trip out to Oklahoma for a couple of days.
    You said something that caught my eye.

    “Do you know what it feels like to have someone love you not for anything you can do for them, but just because of who you are? Even when you are totally messed up and are fighting just to make it one more hour? It is like cold water in the desert.”

    Yes it is like cold water in the desert. I am amazed why some of you guys love me. Over the past 3 years I said some stuff that I wish I could take back. My biggest fault was lumping people together. And practicing guilt by association. You guys remember some of my rants about Christians being frauds, condescending, arrogant, etc… And there are a large number that do exist. BUT there is another group, much smaller that practices a lot of love. AND really shows grace.

    I learned this when I was in the hospital last summer. I had no idea what was happening to me when I was in an Emergency Walk in Clinic. The medical professionals were telling me I was going into shock. My heart rate was at 160, and my blood pressure dropped to 70 over 40. I was transferred to the ICU of INOVA Fairfax. So much of that was uncertainty…then I laid in bed watching my leg swell to twice its size and the skin splitting. The pain was unbearable with the doctors wanting me to take hard core pain medicine and I would fight back because I was terrified that I would accidently become hooked. Quite a way to have an argument eh? But seriously I have enough problems in life and didn’t need more. I would lay in bed and watch the infection spread up my leg with the redness growing. And against that uncertainty what happened?

    People showed me love. I had the following take place…

    1. Card, chocolates, and flowers from Chaplin Mike and Jeff Dunn.
    2. Becky visited from Richmond (That reminds me I need to get your cane back)
    3. Dee Parsons from Wartburg Watch drove up and helped out for a couple of days.
    4. Wanda Martin from Wartburg Watch visited gave me books, candy, and talked for a while.
    5.. Tyler and his family visited, and when I was in a nursing home Tyler again came by and helped out, grabbed my cloths and checked my mail and garbage.
    6. Trav visited gave me a sandwich and his wife’s lasagna
    I had a college student I didn’t even know who visited and spoke with me for a while. I had pastors I didn’t know who swung by to say hi. So many people came by and helped, visited, and talked. It’s too many to name.
    I could go on and on….but I was crushed by love. It was enough to leave me wondering if I was wrong for what I said about Christians. What else can you do in the middle of the night except stare at the ceiling in your hospital room and reflect upon all that happened hours earlier?

    The love continued to the nursing home, and my apartment. I was on an IV machine in my apartment and one of the most loving and neatest things happened there. My friend Tyler and his daughter visited. His daughter is only about 2 or 3. In my living room we were sitting at my kitchen table and I was hooked up to my IV machine. Then Tyler’s daughter gives me a bandaid, you know one of those kid’s bandaids. I was so moved. I couldn’t bear to throw it out. I actually have it on my bulletin board at work, I look at it from time to time and it reminds me that I am loved. And what about all the cards and emails you guys sent? You softened me so much…Miguel, Gail, Ryan, etc… there are too many to remember by name. And I’m afraid of leaving someone off… BUT love does exist Jeff. You yourself showed love to me. I told you and others that Christianity is a cancer, and you responded by showing me love and grace.

    So don’t despair Jeff…love exists. Heck I can’t believe I’m writing some of this…but I write it to tell you love exists, you and others showed it to me. AND I was a skeptic in my thinking.

    So please, tell us what we can do to show you love. You’re part of the family – the I-Monk family. Do you want us to hug you? Travel out there and sit in the dark with you? Say nothing in your presence but show support? Do you want me to enroll you in the beer of the month club! 😛

    Like

  89. One well-intentioned deacon did call me one night, and said, “I know you’re living alone there, and I know you’ve got a computer. I know the temptations a man goes through when he’s alone. I want you to tell me the truth…Are you looking at pornography?” Though I told him I wasn’t, he insisted, “Well, I know you probably are, and I just want you to know if you get tempted, you can call me.” I thanked him for his “support”.

    Lee, that has all the aroma of “I have Problem X, so YOU MUST HAVE THE SAME PROBLEM”. The “I know the temptations…” line makes it very probable said deacon has a secret Internet Porn problem.

    I considered joining an overseas campus ministry, but was told that would be impossible, because I was divorced. I suppose losing a relationship disqualifies one from loving the Lord and wanting others to know Him.

    Welcome to the Distant Second Class Status of the Single Christian. (Of which the above assumption of Internet Porn is also part of the package.) A subject which has been tackled on this blog and many others. How can we Outbreed the Heathen when you’re not Focusing On Your Family (or able to)?

    It was Adam. He said “I know you’re having a hard time, and we’ve always said we were brothers. I just woke up and told my wife, ‘If I’m going to tell Lee he’s my brother, then I need to start acting like it.’ And I just got in my car and drove over. I just wanted to be here for you.” He sat with me until almost daylight. We didn’t hold a prayer vigil, and he didn’t give me any deep spiritual advice. He was just present when I needed someone to be present the most.

    And (most important), he was smart/wise enough to just BE present, instead of digging out the Bible proof-texts or tracts or just flapping his gums sounding Godly(TM — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8myHowxYsu0) like Job’s Counselors. Because when you are in that situation, anything you say is going to sound Really Really Stupid.

    Like

  90. Great point about confession, Greg. I think the baby got thrown out with the bathwater where Protestants and ritual liturgy is concerned. I see a great value in rituals — they embody the gospel.

    I was just on another blog that spoke to this idea of weakness, only he used the word “powerlessness”. It’s a post with thought pulled from Henri Nouwen’s “The Selfless Way of Christ”.

    Professor Richard Beck writes,
    “One of the most impactful parts of the book is Nouwan’s reflection on the temptations of power. As Nouwan observes, ‘There is almost nothing more difficult to overcome than our desire for power.’

    Why is that? Because our culture of upward mobility constantly tells us that power is a good thing and that powerlessness is a bad thing:

    ‘It seems nearly impossible for us to believe that any good can come from powerlessness. In this country of pioneers and self-made people, in which ambition is praised from the first moment we enter school until we enter the competitive world of free enterprise, we cannot imagine that any good can come from giving up power or not even desiring it. The all-pervasive conviction in our society is that power is a good and that those possessing it can only desire more of it.’

    And yet, the downward path of Jesus is the way of powerlessness:

    ‘Surrounded by so much power, it is very difficult to avoid surrendering to the temptation to seek power like everyone else. But the mystery of our ministry is that we are called to serve not with our power but with our powerlessness. It is through powerlessness that we can enter into solidarity with our fellow human beings, form a community with the weak, and thus reveal the healing, guiding, and sustaining mercy of God. We are called to speak to people not where they have it together but where they are aware of their pain, not where they are in control but where they are trembling and insecure, not where they are self-assured and assertive but where they dare to doubt and raise hard questions; in short, not where they live in the illusion of immortality but where they are ready to face their broken, mortal, and fragile humanity. As followers of Christ, we are sent into the world naked, vulnerable, and weak, and thus we can reach our fellow human beings in their pain and agony and reveal to them the power of God’s love and empower them with the power of God’s Spirit.'”

    Me talking here: the church’s temptation for relevance, temptation to be spectacular and temptation to be powerful preclude us from the powerlessness we need to express Christ to the powerless. When we fall for these temptations, we take the opposite course of Christ himself. No wonder we have no love.

    More food for thought. Entire post here: http://experimentaltheology.blogspot.ca

    Like

  91. Jeff – Thank you for baring your soul.

    Your question: ‘ Why are those in whom Love Himself lives so unwilling to share love with others?’ haunts me. I will be spending much time reflecting and praying about this, asking forgiveness for the times I know I have failed those who were looking to me for love and asking Father to help me to change, once again…..but it’s not enough to just do that. As Eugene Peterson explains Colossians 2:6-7 in The Message: 6-7

    “My counsel for you is simple and straightforward: Just go ahead with what you’ve been given. You received Christ Jesus, the Master; now live him. You’re deeply rooted in him. You’re well constructed upon him. You know your way around the faith. Now do what you’ve been taught. School’s out; quit studying the subject and start living it! And let your living spill over into thanksgiving.”

    LORD, help me to do just that – to ‘live it’ so that the Jeff’s in my world will know and experience Your love.

    Like

  92. Last time I found myself in a serious depression (Feb 2010) I was able to write my way out of it, penning a fictionalized magic-realism fantasy version of the events that triggered it.

    Like

  93. I’ve been through a situation somewhat like yours, but the lesson I drew from it wasn’t so much that Christians fail to love as that having a vague commandment to love isn’t sufficient to get over all the practical obstacles to dealing with a person in deep mental distress. For one thing, as others have mentioned, a lot of people just don’t know what to do to help. I’m pretty terrible about knowing what to say in those situations myself, even though I’ve been on the other side of it. I believe that the ability to perceive other people’s feelings and therefore suss out the right thing to say, or ’emotional intelligence’ as some call it, is one of those innate capacities with which some people are endowed more than others. (Though cultural training is certainly a factor — as you allude to near the end, modern American masculinity almost prides itself in not having it.) For another thing, a large group with undefined roles can suffer from what social psychologists call a diffusion of responsibility, in that everyone agrees that something is there collective responsibility but no one has been individually designated with a particular task, and so as a result nothing gets done. As a result, those with better defined roles like relatives and ministers end up shouldering the burden, and pastors in particular often get totally overloaded with congregants’ problems. Which brings me to my last point: lots of other people in church have &*(% going on in their lives too! My church was pretty open about this, but I do get the impression that some other churches put on a shiny veneer that can make you feel like you’re the only one with a problem. Maybe it would help if, instead of going to overworked ministers and elders, you could find other broken people and help support each other? I don’t know how practical that is to your situation, but it’s a thought.

    Like

  94. I can totally relate. Part of the difficulty is that when I am in that place, I feel like it’s especially hard to be in Church with other Christians.

    I’m at loggerheads. I both want to receive love from others and I want to hide in a dark closet and withdraw from the world. It’s hard to live in this space.

    I’m not minimizing your experience in any way, it’s just that I’ve come to realize how when I’m in that place of depression, it’s really hard for me to receive or seek out love. Ideally, it would be good to have friends like your Adam or Smokey, but I honestly don’t have those kinds of friends right now. People who are willing to ask the hard questions, and who can see my tightlipped smile and who know I’m just faking it.

    Blessings to You Jeff!

    Like

  95. My goodness, Jeff, look at all the people who came out of the woodwork! I actually do regard this place as a church. Surely you have asked yourself why you continue to attend a church with faces that makes your situation worse. Other than adding to the population and financial bottom lines, would this church be any worse off if you found a greener pasture? Have you thought about visiting other churches once a month or whenever just to breathe some different air and gain some perspective?

    A lot of good comments here. You can’t really expect understanding from people who haven’t been there, done that. A few mention AA or other twelve-step recovery groups. I have read more than once from Christian authors that these programs are the best example available of what the gatherings that Jesus visioned look like. I have never been to one.

    They have them for all kinds of addictions and difficulties, but I have never seen one for Depressives Anonymous. Just the name strikes me as depressing, and yet if I knew of such a group I would surely give them a try. Maybe someone here can come up with a better name. Maybe Black Dogs Anonymous would do it.

    I know that you have been wrestling with starting some kind of ministry. I know how ten times over difficult that could be with the Black Dog on your back. Maybe you could be the first to start a twelve step for people like us. All you would need is one other person and two chairs, and it wouldn’t be like you were telling the other person what to do from a raised pulpit. I would do it with you if I lived by you. There are a lot of people on this thread would be good to do it with. I never thought about it before but I might even find someone to do it with where I live myself.

    Thanks, Jeff. You astound me that you can keep cranking these things out thru all kinds of weather. Hats off!

    Like

  96. JoanieD:

    Kinda reminds me of a book I just read, TAKE THIS BREAD by Sara Miles. As I posted about it on Facebook yesterday:

    So, what can a radical non-Charismatic, non-orthodox, non-religious but sacramental lesbian Episcopalian Christian who feels uncomfortable calling herself that teach and tell you about Jesus and church?

    A LOT!!

    As Jesus said: “Come and see!”

    Like

  97. Joanie,
    that is one of the best books I have ever read about the subjects he covers, and THE best thing I have ever read on sexuality. It’s a book I return to again and again.

    Dana

    Like

  98. Jeff, may the Lord grant you peace, and “love with skin on.”

    Francis Schaeffer of blessed memory wrote something very bracing: He said that there is something that scripture says gives non-Christians the right to judge *whether the Father has sent the Son* – and that is our love for and union with one another. See John 14-17. If we want to “witness,” if we want people to believe that Jesus is sent from God, what we must do is seek that union in love and display it – not be a good preacher that can fill an auditorium. May God have mercy on us and help us.

    Dana

    Like

  99. Once I approached my pastor and said, “I’m beginning to lose my faith in my brothers and sisters in Christ.”

    He said, “Good. it should never have been there to begin with.”

    We are all different. Some are more “loving” and :caring” than others. I look at myself. I’m a very mixed bag and a lot of it depends on what day it is and how much stuff I have crashing in on me.

    Like

  100. Jeff, thank you for sharing your heart with us, and much love to you. I can very much relate to what you experienced, especially after attending a so-called Christian workshop last summer where I was ignored by most of the other students (I had expected to easily make friends), and got the vibe that they really didn’t care about anyone else. This was further confirmed when a fellow student sitting next to me was so upset that she left the class for hours, and nobody else noticed!

    That experienced was depressing, as I suddenly realized that most of my friendships within my church were shallow, and if I were to be in serious need, I probably would have very little support or aid. As I examined my past and present relationships with Christians, I saw that almost nobody, except those the church looked down upon as sick or downtrodden, had much compassion or understanding for me as a human being. Once again, I was disillusioned about Christians.

    “How is it that those in whom Love Himself lives bottle up love and refuse to give it while those who do not know Love are very free with their love? I really don’t get it.”

    This is exactly the question that has caused me great mental anguish during most of my churchgoing life. I just could not understand how the pastor would preach about sharing with those in need, and yet not want to personally help someone who was truly in need! My husband, who is a lot more cynical about human nature, told me that’s just reality, but as an idealist, I believe Jesus called us to something higher!

    Jeff, thank you for openly sharing and discussing this topic, because almost nobody will talk about it at church, and it needs to be said. May God provide you with the comfort you need at this time.

    Like

  101. Justin, you’re right about it being misunderstood. But there is also not a one-size-fits-all cure for depression. Exercise, diet, medication are all helpful in ways.

    But I can think of one thing that will help everyone with depression: Love. And whether that comes in words (nothing can beat the three little words I Love You), acts of kindness, time given, gifts, or physical touch, love is the greatest medicine one can receive. Yet that is the one thing too few are willing to give. That is the point of my essay. My question remains: Why are those in whom Love Himself lives so unwilling to share love with others?

    Like

  102. Wow. Great post. I am so sorry for what you have suffered with depression and people’s indifference to it, Jeff. Where I am I can’t do much more than pray and tell you you are not alone, but I will certainly do those. I don’t suffer from depression but this totally tracks with my experience anyway. My wife and I have reached the point where we don’t really expect to experience love from many other Christians. We know that love should be the core of what it is to be a Christian, but the reality is that it’s often not. Like you, we’ve seen more care and compassion and love from the agnostics and atheists we know in many cases, especially when we were suffering or had great need.

    But the thing that bugs me is that I don’t know exactly where the church went off track or how to begin trying to fix this. You can’t teach someone to love, at least not directly, and you certainly can’t force them to. Love requires being with another person, sharing in their situation, however painful. It’s hard. I know this from my own often inadequate attempts to love others. But what I don’t understand is when people don’t even try. Is it pride? Fear? Indifference? I’m not sure, but it seems we need an accurate diagnosis if anything is to change.

    Like

  103. I am reading The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality by Ronald Rolheiser. I just finished one chapter where he is writing about why we should go to church. He elaborates on each point, but his points are:

    1. Because it is not good to be alone
    2. To take my rightful place humbly within the family of humanity
    3. Because God calls me there
    4. To dispel my fantasies about myself
    5. Because ten thousand saints have told me so
    6. To help others carry their pathologies and to have them help me carry mine
    7. To dream with others
    8. To practice for heaven
    9. For the pure joy of it…because it is heaven!

    Mind you, he describes the church as filled with sinful people who barely have a clue most of the time. I think, though, that if I asked for help and no one was willing to help, I would have to think that I was not in a church and in spite of what he says about not walking out on the church family you find yourself in, I think sometimes that is the wisest, healthiest thing to do for all involved as long as you find your church family elsewhere. I still have a hundred pages to finish the book, so he may say that also at some point.

    Like

  104. I would say especially when the “things and tasks” are the grist of a church’s agenda , and not people. See Ken’s comment below about being quiet and learning to listen: not the stuff of most seminars, not very cutting edge, eh ??

    Like

  105. I think that so much of the American Church cannot admit weakness. Being so much like the surrounding culture makes it difficult to do so.

    Maybe two things at work here: confession seems so, so…..Catholic !!….(gasp).. hard for true protestants to get our triumphalistic heads around that one; and we may have oversold/joverhyped the “new christian life…” card when in fact we are not that different than smokey or Joe across the street. In fact, we may be much worse in some areas… kind of embarrasing, really. I think Jennifer is onto something big with her point on failure to admit weakness and go from there.

    Like

  106. Jeff:

    A long time ago I realized that many people in church are uncomfortable with the messiness of life. IMHO Evangelicals have been programmed to either fix things or have an answer.
    So what do you do when you have no answer. Nothing. Or run and hide.

    Very few churches train their people even to be able to just sit and listen, or be friends. So I am not too hard on lay people. Are the elders in your church lay people who have been elected?

    I know this does not help. Its just some thoughts about why you might be getting the reactions you do.

    Like

  107. Stuart, Smokey and I only work together a couple of times a week. And she has reached out to me via text at other times. You’re right that we all have packed schedules, but when things and tasks come before people we have completely lost our way …

    Like

  108. that’s funny; my hound is a little confused as to who wears the master’s hat, but she sure is happy to see me ALWAYS (I’m thinking she isn’t an elder….) and doesn’t mind showing it.

    Like

  109. I am so sorry that you are struggling with depression – I suffer from depression too and I know how debilitating it is. And I’m sorry that you are not finding the love and support that you need from the people in your church. But I am not surprised. In my experience, being religious and having selfless love for our fellow human beings are independent characteristics – neither positively, nor negatively, related. More specifically, it is my opinion that people use religion to justify being the way they naturally want to be anyways – often to an extreme. A person filled with love uses his/her belief in God to support being even more loving. And a person filled with self-importance and self-righteousness uses his/her belief in God to support being even more elitist.
    In any event, I hope you can find people in your life who truly love you and surround yourself with them and don’t worry about the rest. And please seek out as much help as you can for your depression – including professional help and medication – because it is a darkness that will steal your soul and your life. My thoughts are with you…

    Like

  110. You do know the difference between dog and cat theology, don’t you?

    A dog says, “He feeds me, gives me shelter, loves me. He must be my master.”

    A cat says, “He feeds me, gives me shelter, loves me. I must be his master.”

    Like

  111. First of all, you get +10 points for the Spinal Tap reference. However, I think you go too far with “I am through looking to Christians for love.” I would be the first to admit that some of the most hateful, spiteful, and downright immature behavior I have ever witnessed was from Christians – even pastors. But on the other hand, some of the most humble, gracious, and loving acts I have ever experienced came from Christians. Its just that no one ever talks about these occurrences. They aren’t supposed to. I know a Christian who spends every spare moment organizing a charity that packages food to feed refugees overseas and here at home. I know an entire church that showered love and grace on a married man who committed adultery…with another man. I know Christians who walk and pray and weep with the struggling, hurt, and broken. The best people I know are Christians (I have some Muslim friends who are also some of the best people I know, to be fair). The fact that there are scoundrels and sociopaths who call themselves bapti – er, Christians – shouldn’t poison the whole well.

    Like

  112. …self-proclaimed evangelical Christians are among the most unloving people one can deal with. They’re too busy caring only about themselves — their status, their problems, their agendas, their own happiness, their particular personal relationship with Jesus, their salvation, et cetera.

    The end result of a Gospel of Personal Salvation and ONLY Personal Salvation. Once you’ve walked the aisle and said the magic words, they put a notch on their Bible, go on to the next mark, and leave you by the side of the road. Because your well-being is not important, only Saving Your Soul(TM).

    Like

  113. My guess? The church has failed at love because it has replaced the great commandment to love with the Great Commission. Love which is the primary commanded ethic of the NT has been replaced by one verse.

    “Great Commission” as in “WITNESS! WITNESS! WITNESS! SELL THAT FIRE INSURANCE!”?

    Like

  114. Great post Jennifer. The American church has put such an emphasis on being WHOLE, having all together, having all the answers that they don’t even get it.

    They’re like Pneumatic Gnostics — so Spiritual(TM) and Godly(TM) they have completely detached from physical reality. They’re already in their Fluffy Cloud Heaven, polishing their halos.

    Like

  115. I don’t know what’s worse: the hyper-Charismatic side that thinks there’s a demon everywhere you find problems, or the hyper-rationalist Christians who think that it’s all in your head.

    I’d say Evangelical Christians are no help in depression, but I’m not seeing a lot of understanding from the greater culture, either. One has positive thinking, another swears off helpful drugs, another thinks you just need to get outside, another tells you stop being so grumpy, one tells you to find a girlfriend, others say to get in crowds. Everyone has a book or 20 to send your way that have The Answer.

    Depression is simply misunderstood.

    Like

  116. Jeff, as usual you write with such raw honesty! It’s a breath of fresh air in a culture that suffocates me (us). Midway through I was bawling. Thank you! For being the man you are! And having the chutzpah to put pixels to screen and share your heart with the rest of us! My day is blessed!

    Like

  117. Oh yes, may I grow up to maturity….. dog-liked-ness…… much more wag…. much less bark…. happy for the most simple, basic, things. My one yr. old hound-mix is my role model…

    Like

  118. Matt, good thoughts. I felt really guilty reading this, as I’ve far too often failed to love. A few comments back, Adrienne said something that I think is dead on. I’ve felt for years that most churches are so completely over-programmed, that the people who are honestly trying to do the right thing (helping out / serving in those programs) often have no time to actually minister to people. An eye opener for me was something my brother-in-law said to me when he was in seminary: “don’t fall into the trap of thinking that the only way to minister to people is via a church program.”

    Jeff, I felt so badly for you when I read this. But I couldn’t help but think that if I went to your church, to my shame, I probably would have had the same response. So, thanks for this post. I honestly don’t think it’s because the people and the pastors are bad people. I think we’re so used to people putting up false fronts (“how are you doing? I’m just fine. Great, nice to see you, have a great week”) that when we are confronted with a person who is honest enough to share their struggle, we don’t know how to react. Then, we’re afraid of saying the wrong thing, so we don’t do anything. I guess that’s just an excuse though.

    One thing though Matt that I would slighly disagree with. I would argue (your last statement) that it’s a faulty interpretation of the great commission that most churches are running after. We can’t just ignore the GC. It seems to me that the very last thing Christ said prior to His ascension was probably pretty important. But again, I think we’ve twisted what the GC really is. It’s a call to make disciples, but we’ve turned it into a misguided effort to make converts. Making disciples is a long, lengthy process that involves getting into peoples’ lives, really getting to know them, and caring for them. So I would argue that the GC goes hand in hand with loving and caring for people. Making converts? Not so much.

    Like

  119. Jeff, I’m sorry for your pain, and the additional hurt and loneliness of having no one respond. We’re a pretty messed up bunch, aren’t we? People will let us down, even those people who love us most. But we have to let them try again to love us, and we have to love them, imperfect as they may be.

    Don’t give up on all Christians. We’re all broken, inadequate souls who need Help, and the thing is to find the ones who know it, and go looking for it together.

    I totally agree with Joel. My dog is the next best thing to having Jesus sit with me in my living room.

    Like

  120. Jeff,

    You are loved, you probably have no idea how your e-mail touched me. I meant this from the bottom of my heart: “Well, that makes me cry… good tears. What kind words you give and out of the poverty of your depression… Having spent time in a few dark nights/seasons I understand how hard it is.”

    There you were in agony, and you gave me such kind words. it seems to me that it is only those who have suffered a dark night/depression can give grace & love out of their poverty, I pray that the fruit of your suffering will continue to bring more love to your heart for others.

    I have experienced a boat load of church pain, and have no answers yet I have wondered if I scared people with the depths of my depression, that perhaps I stirred up emotions in them that they would rather keep a clamp on. Who knows? Only Jesus. But it really hurts when people leave you alone after sharing with them. O, those Actions really do speak louder than words…

    Like

  121. I do not suffer from depression, so my experiences are quite different from yours, I’m sure. But I’ve found that the best church can do (and I’ve got a very welcoming church that many describe as “loving”) is usually provide friendliness. For the real love, I’ve got a handful of people who I’ve known for a very long time that happen to be Christians. Sometimes I reach out to them, sometimes they reach out to me. That reach out can either be from the “Hey, I need to talk to someone” or the “Hey, is everything alright? Do you need to talk to someone?” variety. There are a very few with whom I’m more intimate in my phileo love with, and some with whom I don’t connect very often. While all are folks with whom I’ve gone to church at one time or another, it’s definitely not something that was fostered in church. It was offline stuff. Work, play, meals, coffee, adult beverages, family drama, road trips, rooming together etc. And actually, I think they were almost all relationships I formed as a youth or as a youth-like-adult in my aimless 20’s. They were all surrogate family.

    I think that’s one of the problems; most of us are so wrapped up in our regular lives of work, family, etc., that we have troubles breaking out of our little patterns and families or family-like friends. It’s not right, but I think that’s the way it often goes.

    As someone in the ministry (admittedly new at it), I know I’m a lot better at the surface stuff with folks at church than the real stuff. I think I may not always recognize when folks REALLY need something deep. And that’s a problem.

    Like

  122. Tom beat me to it. But I’ll add that Iove you, even though you are an Okie that makes fun of my beloved Texas.
    🙂

    Like

  123. “I’ll Pray for You” is Christianese for patting yourself on the head (“Attaboy!”) for doing nothing.

    I have a standard comeback, a paraphrase of a line from “Babylon-5”:

    “You have a saying — ‘I’ll Pray For You.’
    We also have a saying — ‘PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS!'”

    Like

  124. Jeff, this is my first comment here to tell you how deeply your post touched me. I am so sorry for the additional suffering that has been heaped on top of your suffering because of the responses (or lack thereof) of other people. My heart breaks for you, and I am so very grateful you shared this. Through my tears, I feel a flicker of inspiration and a call to live this kind of love daily. I can say quite honestly that you have changed me this morning. I send a heartfelt thank you and my prayers that you will feel God’s love and comfort surrounding you once again.

    Like

  125. Not long ago, someone I don’t know told me on a friend’s FB thread that depression was a choice. Any attempt on my part to share my story and say that it isn’t for me, fell on deaf ears.

    That’s still an improvement over “It’s all done by DEEEEEMONS!!!!!” and immediate Spiritual Warfare to cast out the DEEEMON of Depression.

    Did they also start Gospelly diagnosing what Secret Sin you must have that they don’t?

    I’m subject to depresso attacks, too. Not very severe, but they tend to last a while when they come. And Evangelical Christians are NO help at all in such situations.

    Like

  126. I don’t have a lot to say in response to this other than “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”.

    I will say that reading this the lyrics of U2’s song “Acrobat” come to mind.

    No, nothing makes sense
    Nothing seems to fit
    I know you’d hit out
    If you only knew who to hit
    And I’d join the movement
    If there was one I could believe in
    Yeah I’d break bread and wine
    If there was a church I could receive in
    ’cause I need it now

    Like

  127. I’m so sorry to read Jeff’s post and all your comments. I cannot explain or excuse why these Christians failed you, but may I offer you some thoughts as someone who suffered greatly from depression in my teens?

    First, I think it is very hard for people who have never suffered depression to know how to respond to someone who is depressed. But I do think mature Christians should at least reach out to anyone who is depressed, no matter how inexpert their gesture. An invitation to a meal, for example, is an unmistakable expression of love and/or concern.

    I very much hope to encourage you all with these thoughts:

    “Never was grief like mine”: God himself has suffered in this way more deeply than we can ever understand. So he understands and cares for us if or when we are depressed.

    Depression may seem to have no positive aspect at all. But we learn that “the God of all comfort” takes us through our life experiences so that we ourselves may be able to comfort those who are going through similar experiences. Our comfort won’t be a medical or psychological analysis of depression that then puts the burden on the sufferer to get out of it, but simply the fact that “I’ve been there”.

    In the last few decades, attitudes toward depression (at least in the UK) have changed enormously. Depression is better understood and treated, and some people are much more able to respond helpfully. It is no longer a taboo. For example, a few weeks ago I took on a volunteer who has been suffering from depression for over 25 years. The fact that I have been the first person to give him a chance to gain some experience working in an office on our database has, it seems, been a great help to him.

    Finally, many Christians feel that they have to “fix” people, and this may get in the way of loving them.

    I want you all to know that my heart bleeds for you, firstly because of your depression, but more because of the unhelpful ways in which you have been treated.

    I believe that Henri Nouwen struggled with depression at various times in his life. May I recommend “The Return of the Prodigal Son” to all of you; and to those who have been bereaved, as I have, “Tracing the Rainbow: Working through Loss and Bereavement” by Pablo Martinez and Ali Hull.

    Like

  128. Is it fair for me to question whether Love really lives in those who refuse to love?

    This was the only part of your post I’d contest, Jeff. I don’t think it’s ours to make this kind of assessment, it’s tantamount to saying “I dont’ think you are a christian because you don’t ……….” I know I wouldn’t want to go there. In the positive, however, it can and should be said that our chrisitanity should be apparent by the love you are writing about. This love should be our flagship, not orthodoxy, however we define that.

    FWIW: I suffer from depression often, and know what you are talking about. You have been much, much more bold than I in your attempts to get help. For now, the Adam Palmer’s of the world are your “church” and your lifeline. God bless him, and those like him.

    Like

  129. I wish I felt that way. The one I’ve been attending for 2 years seems only to be concerned about raising money and making Easter eggs. I wish it were different.

    Like

  130. Jeff,

    I am so sorry that you have experienced this lack of love from fellow brothers and sisters in the church.

    As you can see from the comments, there are many of us. Within a few years’ time, both I and my spouse experienced serious medical conditions. I lost my last parent and sibling in death and my child descended into the depths of addiction. The church was silent. No one came. No one called. Even the priest, who knew that I was despairing of life did not contact me.

    And so, now, I wonder sometimes about God – whether He’s really even there, or just a fable. I am cynical when someone mentions His great love for us. But still, I pray.

    This past weekend, when things really hit the fan with the addiction of my child, I opted not to bother with church. I knew I could not talk to anyone there about my great fear and pain that really cared. But I did go to an Al Anon meeting where I found kindness and acceptance. There were tears and hugs. And people talking about how their “Higher Power” leads them, calms them … shepherds them. That may have to be “church” for now because the disappointment in what should be the real thing is too much to bear.

    My feeble, but honest prayers will cover you today.

    Like

  131. Jeff,

    I am just wondering if part of the reason why the friend at work is able to show love and the church is not at least somewhat related to time and proximity. If the person at work sees you multiple days a week and often multiple times each day, Smokey is more able to offer love in at least small ways that provide comfort. Those at church may only see you for a few hours one day a week, and their ability to offer coffee and comfort is limited by their own work & family committments.

    I am not at all trying to diminish the pain you feel, but I just wonder if at least some of the pain you perceive coming from Christians is not a lack of love but rather a lack of non-committed time. When people’s lives are so jam packed with all the things they need to do for their own families, it is difficult to find time to do more than offer toss-off comments and side hugs on Sundays.

    Just a thought.

    Like

  132. Jeff, I feel your pain. I went through situational depression associated with a divorce some years back, went to my pastor for counseling, and frankly, found him to be absolutely horrible at dealing with the situation. A seminarian with two counseling classes under his belt does not a good counselor make. I was on staff at the church at that time, and he felt it necessary to make an announcement about the status of my separation and ultimate divorce every other Sunday, “so that people won’t gossip and speculate”.

    The tactic fueled those fires even more. I was surrounded by folks in prayer every other week, but very few made efforts to support me during the hours when depression was hitting me the hardest. One well-intentioned deacon did call me one night, and said, “I know you’re living alone there, and I know you’ve got a computer. I know the temptations a man goes through when he’s alone. I want you to tell me the truth…Are you looking at pornography?” Though I told him I wasn’t, he insisted, “Well, I know you probably are, and I just want you to know if you get tempted, you can call me.” I thanked him for his “support”.

    Another elder, once my divorce was announced, approached me after church one Sunday and asked, “You’re not still going to preach now that you’re divorced, are you?” He was very surprised when I answered, “Yes.” That really made me feel like a million bucks.

    I considered joining an overseas campus ministry, but was told that would be impossible, because I was divorced. I suppose losing a relationship disqualifies one from loving the Lord and wanting others to know Him.

    One day, I got a call from a former student named Adam who had heard about my situation. He talked to me a long time about how much I meant to him as a friend and a pastor, and how none of that changed just because I was divorced. I wept openly during the call, and talked to him about how I couldn’t sleep, and I would just stay awake at night, praying Psalms over and over, crying, asking God to take away my pain, lamenting the fact that He just wouldn’t do it, and not understanding why.

    At about 2:00AM that night, there was a knock on my door. It was Adam. He said “I know you’re having a hard time, and we’ve always said we were brothers. I just woke up and told my wife, ‘If I’m going to tell Lee he’s my brother, then I need to start acting like it.’ And I just got in my car and drove over. I just wanted to be here for you.” He sat with me until almost daylight. We didn’t hold a prayer vigil, and he didn’t give me any deep spiritual advice. He was just present when I needed someone to be present the most.

    Today, Adam is a youth pastor, and he’s a darn good one. He does all the fun stuff that youth pastors do, but he’s also very focused on building relationships with his students and their families. He gets it. He understands that you can’t invite people into community, then only commune with them on superficial levels. He doesn’t just hand out hollow “I’ll pray for you” and “Call me if you need me” declarations. He is present with those he loves.

    We all know John 3:16. Too often we forget I John 3:16…”This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” That’s what we’re called to do as believers, isn’t it?

    Like

  133. Great post Jennifer. The American church has put such an emphasis on being WHOLE, having all together, having all the answers that they don’t even get it. We are only “there” when we are broken. Then, and only then, can we truly walk along side one another. Jesus would have just been another religious teacher, a good man who left a good example if it weren’t for the cross. It was when He was broken for us that He became the savior. Brokenness is real life.

    Like

  134. EXACTLY RIGHT PATTIE!! Jeff, as I have said I too suffer from depression caused by Fibromyalgia and all its’ challenges as well as having lost my best friend/husband and being a widow. And all I can say to you is what Pattie just so succinctly voiced. It was when I gave up on trying to find the church that I found it. People came and just surrounded me (1 couple from my church brought me to their home and allowed me to just rest) but most of them were friends and customers from the store I had worked at. They keep me busy, pray for me, call me regularly, laugh and cry with me. Some were in a church, some not. It was the Busy at Church people who didn’t have time. When my husband died and then that was followed by other major losses one on top of another we had 13 pastors in my church. Not one of them had time to see me. Too busy. One expressed to me how badly he felt about that but said he was just overwhelmed with hurting people. Thank God my physician is a Christian who also suffers from depression and it was only his refusal to give up on me that brought me through that nightmare. But the friends have stayed with me. I am included in their family events, holidays and so on. I belong now to a Senior Center and have found a group of widows who take care of each other. Not one of them is “churched”. But I get checked on and invited out for dinners etc. regularly. They are out their Jeff. I have left the “mega church” and am not quite at home in a Lutheran church. And as my one and only pastor often says, Jesus is found among the little, the least and the lost. The great paradox. Will we be surprised when we get to heaven – you bet!

    Like

  135. On another note, I think depression is so misunderstood in the American Church. Not long ago, someone I don’t know told me on a friend’s FB thread that depression was a choice. Any attempt on my part to share my story and say that it isn’t for me, fell on deaf ears. I won’t get into the various types of depressions and choice theory, and yes, as some level there is a grain of truth in that. A grain. But needless to say, to put that burden on someone who suffers from depression is tantamount to a millstone around a neck. Talk about graceless. Not to mention ignorant.

    And, I can’t tell you how many times I have to go to bat for myself and fellow sufferers over the thought that depression is a spiritual problem. The brain is a part of the body that malfunctions. Why can’t Christians understand that often, depression is a physical problem? I don’t go to the Bible to fix my broken arm. So I won’t go there to fix my dopamine and seratonin levels. Yes, I can have wrong thinking that leads or even exacerbates depression and those of us who suffer should do the hard work to find out if we can pinpoint a life event that is at the root. But for others of us, there is none. I just wish Christians (and non for that matter) who exhibit a little grace.

    Like

  136. Humbling thoughts, Jeff and other i-monks. I confess that my attempts at love often look nothing like those yearned for here.

    I have some questions about why the church seems to be so absent of love, but I think I’ll save them for a little later on.

    Like

  137. Count me in as another who suffers from depression. Have it under control, thank you, Lord. So sorry to read this post, Jeff. It rings true. And it’s a reminder for me to have my eyes open to those around me. To ask questions. To seek to know others. As I go about my day, to be open to people, relationships and not tasks and accomplishments. We all want to know that we matter, on our good days. We all want to know we are loved on our bad ones.

    One thing that has often crossed my mind is that I think our agnostic/atheist friends who love well are somehow…more human. When you’re human and you realize your weakness, you have compassion. When you’re not broken (or don’t realize that you are), you have little tolerance, compassion or love for those who are. It’s brokenness that makes us human. We humans can relate to that in one another, if we admit that we are broken. There’s a solidarity we have with one another when we admit weakness to one another. In admitting brokenness, we are vulnerable. In caring for another who admits, we say, “me too.”

    I think that so much of the American Church cannot admit weakness. Being so much like the surrounding culture makes it difficult to do so. It doesn’t really see it’s brokenness and it’s need for God. You can’t give grace and love if you don’t have it. And you can’t have it if you don’t see your need for it. It gives lip service, but in it’s shallowness it has yet to reach the depths of its brokenness. That’s my two cents.

    God give you peace, Jeff.

    Like

  138. I am so sorry that you are suffering with depression, Jeff, and that your church community is not helping you. I was just reading a CNN article about how yoga is helping a lot of depressed people. Years ago, when I could afford it, I would pay for professional massages and I really think that can help (at least a little) with a lot of problems including depression. AA works so well for folks with alcoholism. I wish there was a group that could offer that same kind of understanding, support, love for depressed people. The problem is, when you are depressed you can barely get out of bed, never mind drag yourself off to a meeting.

    I agree with what Werther has written above that it is our family and day-to-day friends who usually are the ones to help us. If having to come up with posts for this group contributes in any way to stress and depression, you should take a break from that, though of course we would miss you! But I hope that you sometimes get some entertainment out of the people here who comment. I know I do!

    Thanks for all that you do, Jeff, and I do love you. Have you read The Shack? Don’t forget that God has a special love for you.

    Like

  139. I did everything to not cry like a schoolgirl while reading this. Not only because I may be suffering from the same. But because of how often I’ve failed to love.

    My guess? The church has failed at love because it has replaced the great commandment to love with the Great Commission. Love which is the primary commanded ethic of the NT has been replaced by one verse.

    Like

  140. The problem, I suspect, is that these pastors and fellow church members hadn’t the faintest clue what sort of response would be helpful to you. It may be that all you needed was to sit down and talk over coffee, but they didn’t know that. In this absence, the whole situation made them uncomfortable and induced a flight response. I am guessing that your church tradition doesn’t include counseling training for its pastors. Too much emphasis on counseling can lead to church-as-social-services-agency, but too little can lead to the situations you describe, with the church being worse than useless when times are most trying. The good news is that some people instinctively understand the talk-over-coffee response: hence your co-worker. This understanding correlates poorly with church involvement, alas.

    Like

  141. Jeff, I appreciate your honestly, but unfortunately, all I can do is pray for you. I pray for you to be relieved of your depression, that you find a better class of Christian to associate with, and thank God for putting Smokey in your life.

    I have, at times, thought my Quaker meeting was a bit smothering. But, here’s the thing – they’re like that because they love me. If I told them I was going through depression, they’d at the very least offer to pay for me to get some counseling. I know this for a fact because they did it for my husband when he was going through depression.

    Like

  142. Jeff, your story makes me angry and hurt….and also makes me want to reach through cyper-space to hug you and sit you down with a cup of coffee and a box of tissues and listen. Like others, I too have chased by the “Black Dog” of depression off and on for decades, and think I understand what it feels like when the beast gets his teeth sunk into deeply and starts gnawing on your bones.

    Having said that….are you sure that you are in the right church? I personally have expereinced the value of being listened to and heard, by priests and deacons but also by others who are there in the pews with me every week. There is no shame in being beaten and broken….all it takes is one look up at Christ in agony on the Cross to remind us that this is NOT or home, and that our King didn’t look or act much like one. We freely admit that we don’t understand the reason for suffering, but trust that Someone who has suffered is weaving it together for our good. I will be praying for you…depression is a combination of hay-wire brain chemicals AND the dark night of the soul that Satan would love for us to beleive is because God has deserted our sinfull selves. Take your meds, and excercise and I will pray for you to find comfort in human as well as divine form.

    +peace+

    Like

  143. Generally speaking, churches are artificial “communities.” They are more like film audiences, or the posters on this website. “Love” and “family” and “community” rhetoric notwithstanding, it would be unrealistic to expect fellow churchgoers to provide the sort of support normally given by bona fide friends, family, etc. The reason this sort of exaggerated rhetoric is emphasized, is that churches do not want people to imagine that they (churches) are less than central to people’s lives, when in fact that is very much the case. A church that bombards you with too much “love” is no improvement; then you get something like the Moonies, In other words, don’t expect church to be any different from normal human life and relationships. Joining a church is no shortcut to genuine, deep human connections, nor should it be.

    Like

  144. Jeff, your essay brings tears to my eyes. After leaving a loved evangelical church community (where I experienced much love from the people I worked with as head of their music ministry) and moving to a new, distant, isolated location, I felt disoriented, lost and unloved. A year after the move, my husband had to go to the war in central Asia for an unknown amount of time (three times I was told he was coming home, then at the last minute it was, “Nope, not this time, don’t know when”). I was overwhelmingly depressed and struggled with suicidal thoughts. When I asked the church I had been serving in for help — all I wanted was for folks to occasionally call and check on me, as I was alone and friendless — my request was flat-out refused, primarily because a problematic member of the ministry who felt threatened by my presence had spread quite a few lies behind my back, and the leadership there all believed that person over me (as I was told by the pastor’s wife, “because she’s been here for 10 years and, well, you’ve only been here a few months”…it didn’t help that part of the slander concocted about me claimed I was a liar and untrustworthy). The pain of the whole experience (of which this incident was only part) stuck with me for years and I feel I lost/wasted a big chunk of my life over it all.

    I attended that church (I was invited there, and it was very similar in structure to the one I had to leave) with an expectation that people attending a Christian church would be, for the most part, trying to honor God at least by being loving and kind towards their Christian brothers and sisters, if not everyone else. I no longer hold that particular delusion. In fact, this is harsh and I would love to be proven otherwise, but my experience with that church (along with a subsequent others and some local parachurch ministries I was also involved in) has simply taught me that self-proclaimed evangelical Christians are among the most unloving people one can deal with. They’re too busy caring only about themselves — their status, their problems, their agendas, their own happiness, their particular personal relationship with Jesus, their salvation, et cetera. They don’t have time to deal with your problems and struggles — they’re too busy trying to get you to care about their problems and struggles. And they don’t know how to be honest. Something about modern American evangelicalism teaches people to lie all the time and not think anything of it.

    I thank God that, after several years, I am no longer struggling as badly with depression as I did while dealing with church. I don’t attend church anymore — attending church here made me a worse person than I’d been before, and left me spiritually dessicated. I don’t know if I’ll ever attend again while I live here — I don’t see the point. No one was worshipping God, it was all about themselves, so I don’t see why I should go to worship. I thought church was at least a place where I could go to meet and make new Christian friends to serve with and to talk about God with, but all I found were enemies. Life has been a lot less stressful since getting out of the church bubble — the honesty, love, and kindness I’ve encountered outside — by nonChristians and probably more than a few stealth Christians — have been eye-opening. The ones still inside the bubble think I’m lost and going to hell (heck, more than a few thought that anyway while I was still in the bubble), and I’m pretty sure I don’t care anymore, which perhaps is sad.

    I’ve had to come to the awful conclusion that if a community that calls itself Christian isn’t obviously displaying any kind of love for one another, then, no matter what they say or do or hope, it’s not of Christ. The Bible says the way is narrow, and that thought should sober us all. Jesus said, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” Love isn’t something that simply stays in our heads; it’s something that must be acted out, because humans aren’t telepathic. But the questions you ask in your second-to-last paragraph still lurk in my mind, though I wish they’d go away. I struggle with believing in a loving God when His followers don’t love anyone but themselves. I want to say that anyone who calls themselves a Christian does indeed have an obligation to demonstrate love of others in words and actions, and that any believer of Jesus who goes to a church proclaiming to serve and worship Jesus should be able to expect those in that community to show some manner of love and kindness towards them. But that’s just not the way it is.

    I pray, Jeff, that you would feel a lot more keenly the love many of us have for you, for the work you’ve done in getting Michael Spencer’s book published and in helping keeping this site going, and for being so honest with your struggles.

    Like

  145. I could have written this post! I suffered from clinical depression for many years until a year or two ago. My mother, who I was very close to, died a few years ago.

    I have pretty much given up on turning to other Christians for hope or comfort, especially at times when I am feeling at my lowest. Most Christians usually turn out to be judgmental, critical, or they toss cliches and platitudes at you, some love to quote Romans 8:28 at you, and some blame you in some way for your own heartache and pain.

    When it came to the depression, nobody (and certainly most Christians) did not understand, except for my mother.

    When I went online several years ago to see if I could find Christian material offering answers or encouragement for depression, what I found instead was some material by Christians saying I am to blame for my depression (they attribute it to character flaws or personal sin), while others say that a “real” Christian cannot have depression. There is no understanding or empathey shown by Christians for those who have depression.

    After my mom died, good night, was I ever mistreated, in particular by Christians. I was usually ignored (even by the regular church attending Christians in my extended family who knew I was in need of emotional support), but when I managed to build up my courage and go to certain Christians and tell them of my struggles and grief, I either got the brush off (they tried to get me off the phone quickly), or tossed out quick platitudes and I did not hear from them further, while others criticized me or gave me unsolicited advice.

    One of my Christians friends, who I had known since college, made the condolence note he sent me within two weeks after Mom’s death all about him. This friend’s condolence note was chock full of sunny, perky news of how great his awesome life was.

    When I told him two years later about how inappropriate, damaging, rude, and hurtful his self absorbed “sympathy” note was, he scolded me and lectured me that I should be able to laugh even right after my mom dying. (I cut this guy out of my life.)

    I think my least favorite group of Christians during this ordeal were the ones who, when I confided in them about the pain of my loss, would compare my pain to, say, what homeless people or orphans in Africa go through, and was told by them that since homeless people and orphans have more difficult lives than mine, that my pain over losing my mother didn’t really matter.

    My pain was just totally diminished or dismissed as though it were nothing by these types of Christians.

    I have never in my life treated hurting people like that, because intuitively I knew it was wrong, and my mother was a wonderful comforter – she modeled for me that when someone comes to you hurting, you just listen to them. You don’t judge the person, lecture, or give advice.

    During the initial stages of grief, one of the more comforting people to me was an online acquaintance who is a Non Christian.

    At times, she defines herself as an agnostic type,and at others,as a neo pagan. It is very ironic and sad that often times, Non Christians understand how and when to show compassion while Christians do not. Christians I’ve run into often do more damage than good to wounded people.

    I completely related to the original post.

    Like

  146. I too struggled with depression for a while. I went to a psychologist weekly and even took some medication. What that experience has taught me though was that in the end, I am totally alone. My friends stopped talking to me and my family didn’t understand me. As for my church, HAHAHAHA, they left me for dead essentially. It’s so pathetic that I can’t help but laugh. Needless to say, everything was horrible. Looking back, it’s miracle that I even managed to get out of it alive.

    Overall, it has made me a quiet and very inward man, totally unwilling to expose myself. I live behind a mask of smiles and small talk. I learned my lesson well: don’t be open and honest, people will run away from you then. I don’t know what to do honestly, except to just go day by day, focusing on my tedious work and playing video games to help escape my emptiness.

    Like

  147. I struggle with depression as well- and the person who has been there for me the most has been an atheist friend at school. In bad times, I don’t want to seek out any interaction, but I desperately need to be loved and listened to, and this friend understands more than any of the people that I’ve grown up in church with. Also Jeff- don’t be a Power Ranger who only gives side hugs. Side hugs are (1) awkward (2) seem to defeat the purpose of a hug. At least, that’s what I think.

    Like

Leave a comment