Hellow Darkness (New)

Introduction

I’m going to share some statistics with you that most of you already know by experience. Nearly 30% of the general population in the United States has been diagnosed with depression in their life time, which is 10 percentage points higher than it was in 2015. These numbers only go up among the Gen Z population, with 42% having been diagnosed with some kind of mental health illness. 22% of Gen Z have considered suicide.

Everything points to the fact that these numbers are only going up. Between 2010 and 2015, depression in teenagers surged by 33 percent. Hospitalizations due to suicide attempts have doubled. The American College Health Association reports that 62 percent of college freshman report overwhelming anxiety. That’s up from 50 percent in 2011.

And just so everyone knows I’m not coming at these issues from some abstract perspective, but this is very personal to me. Not only has my family been rocked by this for years, as we lost my brother to suicide almost 18 years ago, but I myself have battled depression and anxiety on and off for years. And so if you’re in this room this morning and you’re suffering from depression or anxiety this morning, I want you to know that I share in your sufferings. I know it may be hard to earn your trust in this painful time in your life, but I hope I can earn your trust this morning.

Depression and anxiety is the silent epidemic in our society, especially in the millennial and Gen Z populations. In the last five years of ministry, I have seen more people burn out, lose their faith, or be crushed not by some glaring and vicious sin in their life but the reality of deep, dark, mental suffering.

Unfortunately, Christians have been reluctant to address these issues until recent years. More often than not, the Christian response to mental health has done more harm than good. Too often, the Christian response to mental anguish has been to ignore it, dismiss it, ridicule it, or minimize it. Christians and churches are often the last place people turn because they are afraid by the responses people will have.

However, I believe that the Scriptures speak to the realities of depression-anxiety with force and clarity, that God has not left us to deal with this alone, that he provides us wisdom in caring for ourselves and others who suffer in this way, and that He promises to meet us with tenderness and gentleness in our times of utter darkness.

I believe the invitation of Scripture is not to ignore or minimize our mental anguish, but to bring it out into the open with God and others so that we can experience more of Jesus together.

Psalm 88 reveals to us the realities of mental suffering while inviting us into the mercies of our Savior. I am not a mental health specialist, and it is important for us when we are suffering mental illness to speak to a trained counselor or therapist. However, I do believe the words in this Psalm can be meaningful to us, either in our own suffering, or to help care for others in theirs.

Read Psalm.

You may have noticed in the reading of the text that the word “dark” or “darkness” is mentioned three times – in verses 6, 13 and 18. In fact, “darkness” is the last word of the whole Psalm. And throughout the Scriptures, this word is often used to describe the place where travelers lose their way and criminals wait to attack them violently. I think if you could only describe this Psalm in one word, it would be “darkness.” So in keeping with that idea, I want to look at three things this Psalm can tell us about darkness, particularly as it relates to the experience of depression and anxiety: First, that darkness is a reality of life. Second, Darkness is a time for spiritual growth. Third, Darkness is not the end.

Darkness is a Reality of Life

This conclusion is inescapable from this Psalm. Darkness, pain and suffering is a reality of life. What we can learn from the Psalm is that darkness can take the form of an external, circumstantial darkness. It can also take the form of an inner turmoil, a sorrow, grief, or despair of the soul.

Look at what our Psalmist says. We often don’t know what the exact circumstances were of our Psalmist. What we do see here, particularly in verses 4-8, that our Psalmist is close to death and his friends have abandoned him. That’s his external darkness.

But he also speaks of this inner darkness. In verse 3, “my soul is full of troubles,” verse 14, “Why do you hide your face from me?”, verse 16, “Your wrath has swept over me.”

Darkness is his reality. And it can be ours too. And it can last for a really, really long time. Look at how persistent the Psalmist is: “I cry out night and day before you,” “Every day I call upon you,” “in the morning my prayer comes before you.” Despite his persistence, the darkness does not lift.

Nearly every major biblical figure experienced great physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual darkness. Such experiences are all over the pages of Scripture.

These stories tell us that God knows our struggles and he understands them. And so he leaves these pages in Scripture for us to teach us that while darkness is a reality for us, he is there to meet us and minister to us.

If the darkness of depression and anxiety could be a reality for the great figures of the Bible, then it can certainly be a reality for us.

We see this foremost in Jesus who suffered immensely, didn’t he? Was he not “the man of sorrows”? The Son of God, in the deeps of inward and outward trouble, when wave called unto wave, felt not those sweet influences of comfort from God which had always filled his soul formerly. If Christ’s cry in extremity, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?", then surely we need not wonder when that is our cry, as if some strange thing is happening to us.

This is something we must come to terms with. Americans are particularly naïve about this. We tend to have one of two responses to mental health. Increasingly, I think, our mental health struggles are just something we resign ourselves to, and we hopelessly accept it as a reality of life. Nearly all the memes I see on Instagram are some sort of dark humor about our anxiety. They’re hilarious, which is why I keep looking at them, but also sad in how we’ve just hopelessly accepted our suffering.

On the other hand, we push our suffering out of site and pretend to be strong, happy. This attitude often seeps into the church. More often than not, the Christian response to depression-anxiety can be more harmful than helpful. So often what tends to happen is we start say to others that Christians don’t get depressed, Christians don’t have fears or anxieties, because that would mean you don’t have faith. Often, we blame those who are suffering for their situation before we’ve even taken time to listen. Or, as one of my mentors described it to me this week, he said Christians often sound like this: “Snap out of it. What’ve you got to complain about? Jesus loves you.” And the more we respond in these kinds of ways, the more we create a culture in our churches where it isn’t OK to be weak, where it isn’t OK to share your burdens with others, where it isn’t safe to find help, where it isn’t OK to be stuck in Psalm 88 for yourself.

John Calvin, one of the great theologians of the Reformation, he has strong words for Christians who deny the realities of sorrow and anxiety in the Christian life. Let me read for you what he says – but I warn you in advance, he’s pretty blunt about this:

“Among Christians, too, there are those who hold similar views. They believe it is sinful not only to groan and weep, but even to be downcast and anxious. Such outlandish ideas are the work of lazy individuals, who spend their time in speculation rather than in honest work, and who produce nothing but empty fantasies.”

What he meant by this was, anyone who does the real work of understanding what the Bible says about subjects like depression and anxiety couldn’t possibly conclude that Christians don’t suffer from these things. To say otherwise is to be lazy, speculating about fantasies and not engaging with the realities of life as the Bible portrays it.

One of the reasons why we struggle with our suffering is because we don’t expect it. But the Bible says no no, suffering is very much a part of life. And the first step to enduring suffering is embracing it as a fact of life.

Darkness is a Time for Spiritual Growth

Once we accept that darkness is a reality of life, we’re ready to learn how these seasons of great pain can also be seasons of great spiritual growth.

You know, when people think of Psalm 88, they often characterize it by its ending. And this is because it the only Psalm that ends with the appearance of hopelessness. Most Psalms of lament, even though they go to pretty dark places, still end on a note of praise by the end of the Psalm. But not here.

The Psalm ends by saying “You have made my companions darkness.” Do you know what he’s saying? Darkness is a better friend then you are, God. Darkness is closer to me than you are. There’s no clean, nice, kind reverence to be found here. Just the brutal realities of life as our author turns and shouts at his God.

Yet what is often overlooked is that even in all this apparent hopelessness, is this very point: the Psalmist is still crying out to God in the midst of this. Even in this deep, deep darkness, he still trusts that God is the only one he can turn to, the only one who hears him, the only one who can save him.

In verse 1, our Psalmist still says the Lord is the God of his salvation. He begs the Lord for his prayers to be heard. If anyone is going to hear him, if anyone is going to save him it will be his God.

Our society so values strength and happiness that those who suffer from depression and anxiety get the impression that they are damaged goods. They’re done for. There’s nothing good that can come out of depression and anxiety, so don’t even try. The message that is given to us is, you’re no good until you’re happy again.

It hasn’t always been this way. There was a time, before words like depression and anxiety were so popular, that the word used to describe people like us was melancholy. Melancholic people had what was known as a “fearful gift” – the burden was a sadness and despair that could tip into a diseased state. But the gift was a capacity for wisdom, depth, empathy, perseverance, great energy for action, and even genius.

Abraham Lincoln is one of the greatest President’s in our country’s history. He was also one of the most melancholic men to ever walk the face of the earth. He would often slip into such states of mania that his closest friends put him on suicide watch throughout his life. He confessed to one of his colleagues that he so often thought of suicide that he didn’t carry a knife in his pocket for fear of what he might do with it.

And yet, it was because of Lincoln’s intense melancholy – what we might call depression – that he became equipped to lead our country through one of the most difficult period of our history. In his book Lincoln’s Melancholy, author Joshua Wolf Shenk puts this very beautifully. Let me read for you what he says:

“Many popular philosophies propose that suffering can be beaten simply, quickly, and clearly. Popular biographies often expresses the same view. But Lincoln's melancholy doesn't lend itself to such a narrative. No point exists after which the melancholy dissolved…Whatever greatness Lincoln achieved cannot be explained as a triumph over personal suffering. Rather, it must be accounted for as an outgrowth of the same system that produced the suffering. This is not a story of transformation but one of integration. Lincoln didn't do great work because he solved the problem of his melancholy. The problem of his melancholy was all the more fuel for the fire of his great work.”

What I love about Lincoln’s story here is that it illustrates a very biblical principal for us: the Bible never portrays suffering as something we can have total victory over in this life. It never says that our primary goal in suffering is to conquer it. What it does say is that our suffering and darkness is the fire where wisdom, righteousness, character, and godliness are forged.

Today, words like depression and anxiety carry a negative connotation, and they’re largely viewed as problems that need to be solved. And so those of us who are afflicted go round and round in circles looking for the cure for what ails us, we just want things to go back to how they were before we became anxious and depressed, we just want to be of use to our friends and loved ones again.

I’ve been there. Believe me. When I first came to terms with my depression, I was so ashamed. Who’s going to want me? Who would want a depressed pastor? Pastors are supposed to be strong, courageous, outgoing, charismatic, right? I didn’t feel like any of those things. Of course, at the time I didn’t know the research which shows that 70% of pastors in America constantly battle depression. And so I exhausted myself by putting on a show, all the while looking for some quick fix way to make my life like it was before, before I experienced panic attacks, before I didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning.

But can I let you in on a little secret that I learned? Things will never go back to how they were before. Once you’ve walked through Psalm 88, you’re never the same person. The symptoms may abide, the panic attacks may cease, and your physical body may find rest, but your soul will be forever changed. How could it not? When you get to a point where you’re looking at God square in the face and saying things like, “I suffer your terrors, I am helpless. Your dreadful assaults destroy me. You overwhelm me with your waves.” You’ll never be the same. And that isn’t a bad thing.

Do you want to become more empathetic? A better comforter to other sufferers? One who can weather the storms of life and teach others to do the same? Someone who knows a depth to their wisdom that is of great help to others? Do you want to grow in the image of Christ? God will do all of that and more, if we turn to him. And today, that might look like turning to God and saying to him, “Darkness is a better friend than you.” That’s ok.

It has given me great comfort as a Christian to look to the life of Charles Spurgeon, the great 19th century preacher. Such a giant in the faith was he that we often refer to him as the “Prince of Preachers.” Yet his life too was one of great inner and outer darkness. In one of his sermons, he once said: “I am the subject of depressions of spirit so fearful that I hope none of you ever get to extremes of wretchedness as I go to.” This is one of the reasons why, if you familiarize yourself with Spurgeon’s work, he can speak to thoughtfully about the darkness of the soul. He knew it well. One of my favorite insights of his was he said something to the effect of, “Our physical pains lead us to the cross, but the pains of our soul lead us to the garden.”

What he meant by that is, for the Christian, darkness is not the end. Darkness is never the end for those who are in Christ. Even when the deep darkness of depression-anxiety is overwhelming us, it leads us to the garden of Gethsemane. There, where our Savior was on his knees pleading to his Father for this cup to pass from him. There, as it says in Luke 22, was he so overcome with agony it could be said his sweat was like drops of blood. There, where his friends really did abandon him. There, where he felt total and complete darkness.

And so as real as our darkness feels to us, we can know with confidence that it will never be the final reality for us. Jesus got ultimate darkness. Why? So that we could know the Father’s love, so that we could learn that he is not ashamed of us in our fear and anxiety, that he brings comfort to his people by his Spirit, and that he meets us in our hour of great need.

Often, when we are going through deep inner suffering, we want to know why God might allow us to feel this way. Why do I hurt so much? Why won’t you lift this darkness? Why does it feel like you’ve abandoned me?

I can’t give you answers to those questions. But I can tell you what the answer is not. You aren’t suffering because God has abandoned you. You aren’t suffering because he has forgotten you. You aren’t suffering because he doesn’t love you.

Look at Jesus. Whatever else may be the reason for your suffering, look at Jesus who takes on darkness for you. He willingly enters into the darkness, he takes anguish upon himself. Why?

So that you’ll know, no matter what, God won’t abandon you. You’re not alone. He absolutely loves you.

I can’t promise you that Jesus will take your anguish away. He hasn’t taken mine away, through I have grown and gotten better at dealing with my depression and anxiety. I think my wife, who knows me best, would tell you I’ve become a more gentle, kinder, patient person in wrestling with my darkness. But its not easy.

If it weren’t for Jesus, I might have given up. But knowing he has entered into the greatest darkness for me has been the light I need when I can’t see any other way out. And I know he’ll be that for you.