Spiritual depression and gospel culture in the church

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In the midst of a global pandemic, there is more than enough distressing news everywhere. According to its Ministry of Health, Japan saw a surge in mental health consultations among people in their 40s and 50s. Many struggle with sleeplessness, anxiety, loneliness and stress since they refrained from going outside. Even the most mentally stable are on an emotional roller coaster as covid-19 cases rise and fall.  Uncertainty about the future is now haunting many hearts. 

To a greater degree than others, this season has reminded us that man is not in control of even the most minuscule viruses. It is sobering to consider that a microscopic virus can disrupt all of humanity’s activities and bring the nations to their knees.

The Pressures of Life, Work and Ministry

Long before COVID-19 started, I knew in my head that church planting would reveal some heart issues. Yet, it never dawned on me that spiritual depression could be one of them. The unique pressures of life, ministry, and work have a way of revealing heart idols that we didn’t know existed. Though I had given pastoral counsel to others, I had this subtle thought that only people of weaker faith struggled with spiritual depression, but church history attests that nothing could be further from the truth. Spiritual depression has afflicted even the very best of men in history. As the renowned Charles Spurgeon wrote:

“Remember that even after you are secure in Christ, and accepted before God, and clothed in Christ’s righteousness, you may sometimes get despondent. Christian men are but men, and they may have some trial, and then they get depressed if they have ever so much grace. I would defy the apostle Paul himself to help it….I am the subject of depressions of spirit so fearful that I hope none of you ever get to such extremes of wretchedness as I go to…”

The Art of Speaking To Yourself

Psalm 42 shows us that an intense longing for God and spiritual depression can happen to even the most spiritually mature. In the midst of great turmoil, the psalmist lamented in his depression and showed a way forward. Instead of listening to himself, he started to speak to himself:

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.” (v11)

After lamenting, he no longer entertains his depressive thoughts but starts to question them. How easy it is to become overwhelmed, bitter and blame the surrounding circumstances! Instead of asking, “Why does God allow this to happen to me?” he asks himself, “Why are you cast down? Why are you in turmoil within me?” The why question is not outward, but “within me.” This is what helps uncover the hidden idols within us that have failed us. Covid and myriad of trials remind us that the idols within us promise what they cannot deliver. The idols of control, power, approval and comfort always leave us disappointed in the end. False gods, like primitive gods, never deliver what they promise. Yet the psalmist goes beyond inward questioning. He looks upward. He looks up to the hope he has in the Gospel:

“Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.”

When spiritual depression hits like a fiery dart, our hope is not in motivational speeches or exerting sheer willpower, but in the endless hope of our salvation. The psalmist says, “for I shall again praise Him.” The endless hope of our salvation is what propels us forward with renewed strength and vigour.  

As Martyn Lloyd-Jones, the renowned Welsh preacher said,

“The main art in the matter of spiritual living is to know how to handle yourself. You have to take yourself in hand, you have to address yourself, preach to yourself, question yourself. You must say to your soul: ‘Why art thou cast down’–what business have you to be disquieted? You must turn on yourself, upbraid yourself, condemn yourself, exhort yourself, and say to yourself: ‘Hope thou in God’–instead of muttering in this depressed, unhappy way. And then you must go on to remind yourself of God, who God is, and what God is and what God has done, and what God has pledged Himself to do.”

No dark valleys, outside accusations or internal thoughts of self-condemnation can take away this blessed hope. Jesus is the man of sorrows who understands what it means to be downcast. In that garden of pain, He disclosed His heart: “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me” (Matt 26 v38).  No one understands the dark night of the soul more than Jesus does. Like a desperate child, longing for His Father’s embrace, Jesus embraced the pain of the cross.  No one understands the loneliness of abandonment and the sting of rejection like Jesus does.

There is no wound too deep that Jesus cannot heal. “He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds” (Ps 147 v3).

He is so tender towards us that “a bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not quench” (Matt 12 v20).

Our sins afflict us deeper than our deepest wounds, but Jesus was wounded for us so that we might be healed by His wounds (Isa 53 v5). For those who feel like they never measure up, Jesus measures up for us in every way. 

As Spurgeon himself recalls,

“I always get back again by this—I know I trust Christ.  I have no reliance but in Him, and if He falls I shall fall with Him, but if He does not, I shall not.  Because He lives, I shall live also, and I spring to my legs again and fight with my depressions of spirit and my down castings, and get the victory through it.”

Spurgeon is doing exactly what the psalmist did, speaking gospel truths to his heart. What is true in times of spiritual depression is that Christ has overcome the darkest nights. As Spurgeon says, “our confidence is not in our emotions that rise and fall, but in the unchanging truth that “because He lives, I shall live also.”

Cultivating a Gospel Culture

The most urgent need of the church in a time of pandemic is not only a safe place from covid, but a safe place where people can take off their religious masks and confess their weaknesses and sins—without being bullied, side-lined, rejected, or condemned. There is no place like that in a shame-based Japanese society, but a gospel community is a safe place where we can admit our need for grace because Jesus has taken our condemnation. 

The church can become a place where sin and self-righteousness are not safe, but where honest lament, confession, and repentance are safe under grace. Recently, one of our Japanese non-Christian friends told us how much he appreciates the Bible as it never seeks to hide the weaknesses and flaws of its heroes. This is because only one hero emerges in its pages—one who not only sympathizes with us from a distance but has personally entered our world of suffering.

Jesus is a burden-lifter who lifted the heaviest burdens for us on the cross.  In exchange, He offers us His yoke of rest (Matt 11 v29).  His yoke will not crush us because He was crushed for our sake. His burden is light because He has borne the weight of our sins. Therefore, to follow Jesus in the pandemic is to receive His yoke of rest and follow gladly. As we wait in eager anticipation for His return and set our hopes in Him, we shall yet again praise Him, our salvation and our God.

In the midst of turmoil, the great apostle himself said, “God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus” (2 Cor. 7v6). No one is above spiritual depression. It can happen to any of us. The church, therefore, can become a place where we are lifted by grace through the gracious ministry of others.  

This article was first published in its original form at City to City Japan in Japanese and English.