A Biblical Understanding of Depression

A Biblical Understanding of Depression

Sarah’s initial reluctance to divulge her depression stemmed in part from a perceived stigma against mental illness in her church. She recalled one occasion when a church leader said, “Depression isn’t an issue for Christians.” On another occasion, a member of her small group questioned how anyone who knew the gospel could struggle with grief and sadness.

Unfortunately, Sarah’s experience isn’t unique. On top of the burdens of despondency, hopelessness, and guilt that sufferers of depression already shoulder, too often interactions with those in the church cement fears about inadequate faith. Dr. Beverly Yahnke, executive director of the Lutheran Center for Spiritual Care and Counsel, describes this tendency:

Far too many well-intentioned Christians are imbued with the conviction that strong people of faith simply don’t become depressed. Some have come to believe that by virtue of one’s baptism, one ought to be insulated from perils of mind and mood. Others whisper unkindly that those who cast their cares upon the Lord simply wouldn’t fall prey to a disease that leaves its victims emotionally desolate, despairing and regarding suicide as a refuge and comfort—a certain means to stopping relentless pain.1

What Does Depression Mean for My Faith?

Kathryn Butler, MD

In this concise booklet, author and physician Kathryn Butler addresses common misconceptions about clinical depression within the church, offers encouragement for believers who suffer, and equips church leaders with the tools to provide spiritual support.

Echoing these observations, Zack Eswine writes:

In the eyes of many people, including Christian people, depression signifies cowardice, faithlessness, or a bad attitude. Such people tell God in prayer and their friends in person that the sufferer of depression is soft or unspiritual.2

Such misconceptions about suffering’s role in the Christian life can dissuade those with depression from seeking help. In some cases, theological misunderstandings or unrepentant sin may indeed contribute to depression, as was true in my own case. Cultivating a deeper and more robust understanding of God’s attributes offered me an anchor that was crucial to my recovery. But spiritual factors don’t mean depression and faith are mutually exclusive; on the contrary, Scripture teaches us that discipleship is costly, that sin still ravages the world, that deep, penetrating pain exists (even for believers), and that God works through such pain for good.

An understanding of these truths can guide sufferers back to their hope in Christ when they need it most. In Sarah’s case, a gradual and careful walk through Scripture with compassionate church leaders was life-giving. As she wrestled to see the realities of her depression through a biblical lens, Sarah learned to trust God’s sovereignty and mercy, to express her despair through lament, and to lean upon the church for support.

It’s not possible to comprehensively address a theology of suffering in this amount of space,3 but I will highlight key passages and themes from Scripture that may offer solace, understanding, and hope. A biblical understanding of suffering—and the truth that even those with strong faith can flail in the darkness—can alleviate false guilt, encourage suffering people to seek counseling, and ease them back toward the light.

Trials Will Come

Christ triumphed over death (1 Cor. 15:55; 2 Tim. 1:10), and when he returns, all its wretched manifestations will wash away (Isa. 25:7–8; Rev. 21:4–5). But for now, we live in the wake of the fall, in a world where sin corrupts every molecule, cell, and wayward breeze (Rom. 8:19–22). Jesus warned us that tribulation and persecution would follow his disciples into the world (Matt. 16:24–25; John 1:10–11; 15:20; 16:33), but in the good news of salvation he provides, he also gives us living hope (1 Pet. 1:3–5), a sturdy limb to which we can cling when storms assail us. While we await Jesus’s return, the storms still come. Their winds beat on, crippling our bodies. Their torrents can lash us, drowning us in misery. Yet in Christ, we need not be subdued. Though pelting hail still stings and can drive even faithful Christians into despondency, we cleave to the firm assurance of eternal life.

When we dismiss depression as a defect in faith, we forget that the Savior we treasure has also known crushing sorrow (Matt. 26:38; 27:46). Though he shared perfect communion with the Father, he was acquainted with grief (Isa. 53:3). Our Savior has walked in the shadows, and he can sympathize with us (Heb. 4:15). He knows our groanings, and in love he bore them for our sake. When we despair and can’t see God, our identity in Christ—and God’s love for us—remains untarnished.

The gospel promises not freedom from pain but an abundantly more precious gift: the assurance of God’s love, which prevails over sin and buoys us through the tempests. Christ offers hope that transcends the crooked wantonness of this broken world. Suffering can bear down on us. Depression can crush even the faithful. But in Christ, nothing can separate us from God’s love (Rom. 8:38–39).

God Meant It for Good

When we dismiss depression as an affliction of faithlessness, we can crush believers during their moments of need, and ignore God’s refining work in these moments of despair. We serve a heavenly Father whose love and sovereignty are so great that he can work through our worst anguish for our good and his glory. Paul prayed three times that God would remove his “thorn in the flesh,” but rather than relieving Paul’s pain, the Lord replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). Freedom from pain, though ideal in our eyes, may not always be our greatest good.

Though Todd Peperkorn writes of his ordeal with depression in harrowing detail, he also reflects with gratitude on how the Lord worked through his misery to strengthen his faith:

Overcoming depression is not a matter of “cheer up!” or “just have more faith and joy!” or some pious version of “get over it!” I knew the gospel. I knew all the right answers. I had it all figured out and preached it Sunday after Sunday. But our Lord, in his mercy, chose to crush me, to cause me to suffer with him, so that the faith he gave me . . . would be stronger, clearer, and more focused. By traveling down that dark road, I have come to understand what the light of Christ is all about.4

Christ has already borne sin’s penalty for us. His blood washes us whiter than snow.

Just as the Lord refined Peperkorn through suffering, he also drew me to himself through my bleakest hours. Before depression struck, I strutted blithely through life with a hardened, unexamined heart and sought meaning through my accomplishments rather than through Christ. Just as the obstinate Jonah wouldn’t open his lips in prayer until locked within the gloom of a fish’s belly, I refused to gaze heavenward until driven to my knees, enshrouded in despair I couldn’t escape. While I would never wish to return to that desolate place, I am thankful for how God worked through the ordeal to sanctify me. Only when I was desperate for God’s light did he choose to reveal himself to me through Scripture.

When discussing God’s sovereignty, we must be careful not to presume that suffering strikes people as a punish ment for weak faith. If we do, we err like Job’s “miserable comforters” (Job 16:2), who wrongfully accused him of unrepentant sin. While God may allow us to suffer—to discipline us or to heighten our sense of reliance upon him for life, and breath, and everything (Acts 17:25)—he does not condemn us to depression as punishment for sin. Christ has already borne sin’s penalty for us. His blood washes us whiter than snow (1 Cor. 6:11; Rev. 7:14).

Lest we doubt that God can work through our sorrows for good, we need only look to the cross. The Father sent his Son to bear the world’s sufferings so we would have eternal life (Rom. 5:8; Eph. 2:4–9). Through Christ’s suffering, God achieved history’s most beautiful and magnificent act of grace. He saved us, giving us hope amid the despair that afflicts us this side of heaven, and when he returns, our salvation will be complete. He will wipe away every tear from our eyes.

How Long, O Lord?

Though those who suffer from depression may feel too embarrassed or ashamed to admit their condition, they may reap solace from the truth that they’re not alone. History and Scripture reveal that for centuries faithful Christ followers who have proclaimed God’s goodness have also grappled with unshakable sorrow. Modern examples include Christian songwriters Michael Card and Andrew Peterson, who have both penned songs about their battles with depression.5 These musicians follow in the footsteps of saints over the millennia. Charles Spurgeon fought depression all his life, once reflecting, “I could say with Job, ‘My soul chooseth strangling rather than life.’ I could readily enough have laid violent hands upon myself, to escape from my misery of spirit.”6 Even David, a man after God’s own heart (1 Sam. 13:14), cried out to the Lord from the depths (Ps. 13:1–2). “All the day I go about mourning,” he lamented.

For my sides are filled with burning,
and there is no soundness in my flesh.
I am feeble and crushed;
I groan because of the tumult of my heart. (Ps. 38:6–8)

In fact, we see many vivid models of how to trust God through the cries of suffering in the Psalms. When depression seizes us, we too may perceive our days “like an evening shadow,” and feel that we “wither away like grass” (Ps. 102:11).

In Psalm 55, David grieves:

My heart is in anguish within me;
the terrors of death have fallen upon me.
Fear and trembling come upon me,
and horror overwhelms me. (Ps. 55:4–5)

Such passages echo the turmoil within when depression obscures one’s vision of Christ. As we fumble through the shadows in search of God, the Psalms reassure us that even those dearest to him endure such seasons. Those who have known and loved God have also drowned in anguish and cried out in longing for him.

Dear friend, if you are among those who cry out to God and yearn for his comfort, know you are not alone. Your walk in the darkness cannot hide you from the light of the world (John 8:12). Even when you cannot feel his presence, Jesus remains with you until the end of the age (Matt. 28:20), and nothing—not your shame, despair, or the agony of depression—can separate you from his love (Rom. 8:38–39).

Notes:

  1. Beverly K. Yahnke, Introduction to Dark My Road, by Peperkorn, 5.
  2. Zack Eswine, Spurgeon’s Sorrows: Realistic Hope for Those Who Suffer from Depression (Fearn, Ross-shire, UK: Christian Focus, 2014), 58.
  3. For a more complete exposition, see C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (1940; repr., New York: HarperOne, 2015); Timothy Keller, Walking with God through Pain and Suffering (New York: Penguin, 2013); and John Piper and Justin Taylor, Suffering and the Sovereignty of God (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2006).
  4. Todd A. Peperkorn, I Trust When Dark My Road: A Lutheran View of Depression (St. Louis, MO: LCMS, 2009),, 10.
  5. Andrew Peterson, “The Rain Keeps Falling,” track 5 on The Burning Edge of Dawn (Centricity Music, 2015); Michael Card, “The Edge,” track 8 on Poiéma (Sparrow Records, 1994).
  6. Charles H. Spurgeon, The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Sermons, vol. 36 (London: Passmore and Alabaster, 1890), 200.

This article is adapted from What Does Depression Mean for My Faith? by Kathryn Butler, MD.



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