Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts

Monday, November 14, 2016

A Prayer for Times of Darkness by St. Ignatius

O Christ Jesus, when all is darkness  

and we feel our weakness and helplessness, give us the sense of Your presence, Your love, and Your strength.  

Help us to have perfect trust  

in Your protecting love  

and strengthening power,  
so that nothing may frighten or worry us,  
for, living close to You,  
we shall see Your hand,  
Your purpose, Your will through all things.  


By Saint Ignatius of Loyola


Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Depression and the Saints

The following comes from the Catholic Exchange:


Depression can often have a physiological aspect, which means that an examination by a physician will frequently be a good starting point in addressing the situation and any underlying problems. Severe, ongoing depression isn’t something we should become resigned to or attempt to cope with alone; professional assistance should generally be obtained, usually after a doctor has ruled out a physical or chemical cause.
But almost everyone suffers from a mild form of depression from time to time, and in such situations, the experiences of some of the saints may be able to help and encourage us.
Is it possible that a saint — someone who has tasted the wonder and richness of divine love far more deeply than the rest of us have — could be troubled by a melancholy, restless spirit? Most definitely. For instance, the fourteenth-century virgin St. Flora of Beaulieu, after a normal childhood, refused to cooperate with her parents’ attempts to find her a husband; instead, she announced that she was dedicating herself to God and entered a convent. This, however — even though it was her calling — precipitated an intense and prolonged period of depression, affecting her behavior in a way that greatly irritated the other sisters. Eventually, with the help of an understanding confessor, Flora weathered this period and made great spiritual progress because of it.
Two seventeenth-century French saints in particular suffered greatly from depression — for very different reasons. The Jesuit priest St. Noel Chabanel was one of the North American Martyrs; he worked among the Huron Indians with St. Charles Garnier. Missionaries often become very sympathetic toward those to whom they minister, but this was not the case for Fr. Noel; he felt a strong repugnance for the Indians and their customs. This, along with difficulty in learning their language and similar challenges, caused him a lasting sense of sadness and spiritual suffocation. How did he respond? By making a solemn vow never to give up or to leave his assignment — a vow that he kept until the day of his martyrdom.
A different form of heroic sanctity was practiced by St. Jane Frances de Chantal. She was happily married to Baron de Chantal for eight years; when her husband died, her father-in-law — a vain, stubborn old man — forced Jane and her three children to move in with him. It’s not surprising that Jane became very depressed. What is perhaps surprising (at least to our society, in which people make a high art of complaining and of claiming “victimhood” status) is how Jane responded: she chose to remain cheerful and to respond to the unkindness of her father-in-law with charity and understanding. 
Much later in life, even after forming a warm and holy friendship with the great bishop St. Francis de Sales and working with him to establish a religious order for older women, Jane still experienced times of suffering and trial — but she continued to respond by remaining cheerful and active.
Keeping busy also proved to be a lifeline amid the seas of depression for St. Augustine, one of the greatest figures of the Church — and, indeed, of Western Civilization. His mother, St. Monica, no doubt merited great graces simply by patiently bearing her brilliant son’s moodiness and unpredictability. Augustine was searching for truth, but on his own terms, and it was many years before — assisted by his mother’s innumerable prayers and his admiration for the great bishop St. Ambrose — he finally surrendered to God and accepted Baptism. Soon afterward his mother died and then his own son, and during the more than forty years that followed, his powerful personality—sanctified but not erased by divine grace — often manifested itself in a tendency toward both intense anger and severe depression. St. Augustine rose above these shackles through prayer, sacrifice, and work. Indeed, his responsibilities as bishop and his writings in defense of the Church kept him very busy.
Another powerful personality — one also given to feelings of deep restlessness and grief — was possessed by St. Ignatius of Loyola. In his autobiography (written in the third person), Ignatius stated, “The things he saw strengthened him then and always gave him such strength in his faith that he often thought to himself: if there were no Scriptures to teach us of these matters of the Faith, he would be resolved to die for them, only because of what he had seen.” This sense of certainty and conviction had not come easily; after his conversion to the Faith, Ignatius had to struggle with a period of scrupulosity (in which he was tempted to despair of ever being worthy in God’s sight), followed by a depression so severe that he actually considered suicide. Of course, he persevered, and God drew him out of the dark pit of inner suffering, through which he had been prepared to do great things on behalf of Christ and His Church.
St. Ignatius experienced first-hand what he was later to refer to as desolation in his Spiritual Exercises. Much akin to depression, desolation is a state in which we feel restless, irritated, uncomfortable, unsure of ourselves and our decisions, assailed by doubts, and unable to persevere in our good intentions. According to Ignatius, God cannot cause desolation, although He may allow it for His own purposes — such as to remind us of our profound need for Him, or to “shake up” a sinner so as to bring about repentance. Feelings of desolation, Ignatius notes, are often caused or provoked by the evil one, especially after we’ve taken practical steps to grow in holiness or to discern and follow God’s will. Based in part on his own experience, St. Ignatius of Loyola offers three very important pieces of advice to anyone undergoing desolation:
·Don’t change an earlier good resolution, for after you’ve made a decision that’s pleasing to God, the Devil may try to make you have second thoughts.
·Intensify your religious activities — that is, spend more time in prayer, meditation, and good deeds. For if Satan’s temptations merely cause you to increase your efforts to grow in holiness, he’ll have an incentive to leave you alone.
·Persevere in patience, for the Devil’s authority and ability to assault you is strictly limited by God, meaning that you’ll be relieved of your spiritual sufferings if only you hold out long enough.
As Ignatius discovered, depression can be a great spiritual challenge — and also a great opportunity for growth. Let us keep this in mind whenever we suffer from depression and turn to the saints for their intercession.

Read more here.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Five Remedies Against Sadness from St. Thomas

The following comes from Opus Dei:

"Saint Thomas Aquinas suggests five remedies against sadness that have proven surprisingly effective." From a conference given by Carlo de Marchi, vicar of Opus Dei for Central-South Italy.


On certain days we have all been sad, days when we have been unable to overcome an inner torpor or depression that weighs down on us and makes it difficult to interact with others. Is there a trick for overcoming sorrow and recovering our smile? Saint Thomas Aquinas suggests five remedies against sadness that have proven surprisingly effective (Summa Theologiae, I-II, q. 38).
1. The first remedy is granting ourselves something we like. It’s as though the famous theologian had already intuited seven centuries ago that “chocolate is an antidepressant.” This might seem a bit materialistic, but no one would deny that a tough day can end well with a good beer. It’s hard to refute this by citing the Gospel, since our Lord took part joyfully in banquets and feasts, and both before and after his Resurrection enjoyed the noble and good things in life. One of the Psalms even says that wine gladdens the human heart (although the Bible also clearly condemns getting drunk). 
2. The second remedy is weeping. Saint Thomas says that a hurtful thing hurts yet more if we keep it shut up, because the soul is more intent on it: whereas if it be allowed to escape, the soul’s intention is dispersed as it were on outward things, so that the inward sorrow is lessened. (I-II q. 38 a. 2). Our melancholy gets worse if we have no way to give vent to our sorrow. Weeping is the soul’s way to release a sorrow that can become paralyzing. Jesus too wept. And Pope Francis said that “certain truths in life can only be seen with eyes cleansed by tears. I invite each of you to ask yourself: Have I learned how to cry?” 
3. The third remedy is sharing our sorrow with a friend. I recall here the friend of Renzo in Manzoni’s great novel “The Betrothed.” Finding himself alone in his deserted home ravaged by the plague and mourning his family’s horrible fate, he tells Renzo: “What has happened is horrible, something that I never thought I would live to see; it’s enough to take away a person’s joy for the rest of his life. But speaking about these things with a friend is a great help.” This is something we have to experience in order to understand it. When we are sad, we tend to see everything in tints of grey. A very effective antidote is opening our heart to a friend. Sometimes a brief message or phone call is enough for our outlook to once again be filled with light. 
4. The fourth remedy against sadness is contemplating the truth. Contemplating the “fulgor veritatis” Saint Augustine speaks of, the splendor of truth in nature or a work of art or music, can be an effective balm against sadness. A literary critic, a few days after the death of a dear friend, was scheduled to speak at a conference about the topic of adventure in the works of Tolkien. He began by saying: “Speaking about beautiful things to people interested in them is for me a real consolation….”  
5. The fifth remedy suggested by Saint Thomas is perhaps something we wouldn’t expect from a medieval thinker. The theologian says that a wonderful remedy against sadness is bathing and sleeping. It’s a deeply Christian viewpoint that in order to alleviate a spiritual malady one will sometimes have to resort to a bodily remedy. Ever since God became Man, and therefore took on a body, the separation between matter and spirit has been overcome in this world of ours. 
A widespread error is that Christianity is based on the opposition between soul and body, with the latter being seen as a burden or obstacle for the spiritual life. But the right view of Christian humanism is that the human person (both body and soul) is completely “spiritualized” by seeking union with God.  
“No one thinks it strange to seek out a physician who cares for the body as a guide for a spiritual illness,” says Saint Thomas More. “The body and soul are so closely united that together they form a single person, and hence a malady of one can sometimes be are malady of both. Therefore, I would advise everyone, when confronted with a physical illness, to first go to confession, and seek out a good spiritual doctor for the health of their soul. Likewise for some sicknesses of the soul, besides going to the spiritual physician, one should also go to a physician who cares for the body.”
From a conference given by Carlo de Marchi, vicar of Opus Dei for Central-South Italy, at the National Ecclesial Congress in Florence.