why so vulnerable?

The sermon went really well this morning. I had written a great sermon, but as the service progressed, I felt God telling me to scratch part of my sermon and instead just talk about my suffering and bipolar disorder. I’m not comfortable with sharing my story, and I was unsure of how it would go. But I decided to get up there and just talk, so I did, for twenty minutes. Several people were turned off, a lot of people didn’t like it (it’s a miracle they asked me to come back next week!). But at the same time, I had several people come up and let me know how it affected them. One man in particular was on the verge of tears as he told me his daughter, who was sitting in the sanctuary due to Kyle not being in town, had been diagnosed with depression and was really struggling, and that he hopes it was something she could relate to. That’s ultimately what I want when I preach: to encourage, convict, and strengthen through the word of God and the Spirit speaking through me. Sometimes it means being vulnerable, open, and honest even when I do not want to be (I generally keep things to myself; I enjoy sitting with friends and hearing their struggles and sympathizing with and encouraging them, but when it comes to me, I’m often at a loss for words). I have been open and honest about my struggles with depression as a Christian, and there are primarily three reasons why.

 

First, I do it because it is a part of my life story. It has molded me into the person I am today, for better or worse. When the depression began, my faith was rattled. I nearly became a skeptic and abandoned Christianity altogether. But God used the suffering to draw me closer to Him and to be given a new perspective on God’s love, mercy, compassion, and care. In telling my story, I am, in a sense, advancing His kingdom. In an era where many preachers proclaim health and wealth and happiness in the gospel, it is good to be honest with the reality of suffering in our world, the reality of the way the world works—a world filled with tragedy and setbacks and disappointments and misfortunes—and to be honest about how Christians are children of God, how God favors and loves them, and how they suffer.

 

Second, I do it because there are many Christians who are closet sufferers. There are Christians who wear a smile and say everything is okay but are dying inside. They are members of God’s covenant, children of God, and they are suffering. Satan will invade us with feelings of loneliness and isolation, but I strive to break through that and to show Christians who suffer from depression that they are not alone and that depression is in no way, shape, or form a degradation of their faith or character. I have spoken often about my suffering—bearing my soul—and nearly every time someone tells me that they suffer from the same thing and have felt alone, and that it is encouraging for them to know that they are still God’s children, that God still loves them, that God still cares for them.

 

Third, I do it because there is a negative stigma against mental disorders that is rampant amongst many circles of Christendom. Those with mental disorders are often looked down upon as sub-Christians, Christians who are saved but only by a hair. Two years ago, I overheard two people talking in the coffee shop where I work, and they were discussing depression and Christianity. One of them said, “Christians cannot be depressed, because there is joy in Christ.” Another fellow a few years ago told me that I was not a Christian for the same reason—there is joy in Christ. A Christian who doesn’t have joy, according to him, is not a Christian at all—that person has deceived him/herself. Many Christians also believe, thanks to our ridiculous tendency to super-spiritualize everything, that depression always has a spiritual problem at its roots: generally, either unrepentant sin or demonic influence/possession. One man told me, “The cure to depression in a Christian is repentance or exorcism.” These perspectives on mental disorders and depression within the sphere of Christendom are flat-out ignorant and wrong, and in sharing my suffering and how God has worked through it, I am shattering these notions and erecting a biblical understanding of depression: we live in a fallen world, we often suffer from depression; mental disorders are a result of the curse upon the planet; mental disorders are sicknesses just like cancer and diabetes and have no bearing upon one’s standing before God. These are just three reasons that I am willing to be open and honest about my struggles.