A history of depression

Calvin has a reputation as a mean-spirited individual. However, this raises questions about the history of depression. I'm no expert, but it's my impression that depression must have been very widespread during much of human history. Many children were orphaned. Many mothers died in childbirth. Many fathers died young. Due to high infant mortality, many siblings watched their brothers and sisters die. Os Guinness watched his two younger brothers starve to death.

Some of the survivors were farmed out to older relatives. Among poorer families was the custom of apprenticing a young child to a stranger to teach him a trade. You can imagine the emotional alienation that caused. Even among the royalty and aristocracy, you had emotionally distant indifferent parents who used nannies until the boy was banished to boarding school at an early age. So many men must have been maladjusted due to deficient socialization.

Both Calvin's parents died when he was young. Descartes' mother died when he was two months old, and he had an absentee father. John Knox's mother died when he was young.

Racine was orphaned after both parents died when he was young. Pascal's mother died when he was three. Leibniz's father died when he was young. Swift's father died before his son was born. Isaac Newton's father died before his son was born. He had a checkered relationship with his own mother. Thomas Aquinas was farmed off to Monte Casino Abbey at the age of 5.

Dante was an orphan. His mother died when he was young. The father of Albert Camus died when he was young. Tolkien was an orphan. Catholic philosophers Peter Geach and Anthony Kenny were neglected children.

It's striking that although Newton, Leibniz, and Swift were very eligible bachelors, they never married. This despite the fact that Swift, for one, was very enamored with two women ("Stella", "Vanessa").

This is just skimming the surface. A random sample of famous men. When we assess the acerbic character of some famous men from the past, what this fails to take into account is that many famous individuals had emotionally deprived childhoods due to the death of one or both parents at an early age, not to mention watching their siblings die young. They were emotionally neglected, with lifelong insecurities. That's not to mention other factors like the gin craze, to cope with depression.

It's an interesting historical question to consider what percentage of the human race has suffered from clinical depression. A precarious, neglected childhood doesn't naturally foster generosity, but ruthless competition to survive and succeed. How many men and women stagger through life due to a miserable childhood.

Homosexual suicide rates

Christopher Yuan:

We are no longer accused of just being hateful; now we’re accused of being “harmful”, that Christian perspectives are actually hurting people, and killing people. According to those who oppose us, gay young people are committing suicide today, because of our perspective. That’s a pretty serious claim, which I’ve considered. Am I causing harm? That’s the last thing we want to do. The claim is that Evangelicals who believe that same-sex behavior is sinful, cause stigma which drives suicide rates up. However, what’s quite interesting is if you go to the Netherlands, one of the most gay-affirming countries in the world, there is very little Evangelical Christian presence, and same-sex marriage has been legal for years – and affirmation of gay relationships amongst young people is normal; you would expect suicide rates to be down. But they are not. In fact, gay teen suicide rates are higher than amongst their counterparts.

Despairing hope

Suppose the only son of a widowed mother goes off to war. She no longer has his protection, assistance, or companionship. She doesn't know when or if she will see him again. She doesn't know when or if he will return. All she can do is wait and pray for his return. 

Maybe one day, years later, as she sits on the porch or looks through the kitchen window, she sees a familiar figure limping towards the house. All the prayer, suffering, loneliness, heartache, and waiting were worth it. Even if he's no long 100%, it's more than worth it to have him back, to be reunited. 

But suppose she waits and waits until the war is over, yet he never comes back. She presumes that he died. If he survived, he should have returned by now. Hope fades. It's too late to hold out hope. 

Yet even though she waited in vain, he was still worth waiting for. It's not as if she had anything better to wait for or pray for. If she never sees him again, holding out for him was the right thing to do–even in retrospect. It's not like she had a better life waiting for her if she gave up on him. It's not like she put a wonderful life on hold. If she says good-bye, what's facing her when she turns around? There's nothing to go back to. So even with the benefit of bitter hindsight, she'd do the same thing all over again. 

Suppose she knew that she'd never see him again. Was it still worth the wait? That seems irrational. But what's the alternative? It's not like she's passing on better offers. It's not like she's passing up better opportunities. It's him or nothing. There's a sense in which clinging to a vain hope is better than no hope at all. 

Even if, for the sake of argument, Christianity is false, it's better to hope in vain and wait and vain and pray in vain for the only thing that could be good, without which nothing else is good, than settle for what is worthless and amoral. If that's the dilemma, then even despairing hope is better than hopeless despair. 

And that's the worse case scenario. A limiting case. Sometimes it's useful to begin with the worst, then work back from that, since anything is better than that. If you can adjust to that, you have nothing left to lose and everything to gain. If it can't get any worse, it can only get better. Sometimes, when you have nothing more to lose, that's the turning-point. 

Going crazy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwl0IL00pQ0

Just in general, his video suffers from a self-congratulatory tone. 

I'm a 30-year-old, able-bodied man, well-educated man who's decided that I want nothing to do with dating, marriage, or sex. That I'd rather spend my time with the sick, poor, emotionally-burdened, and elderly, than I would with a wife and children of my own. 

i) Assuming he's straight (and he's mentioned a girlfriend in his past), this statement, as it stands, is just not credible. No normal, young, able-bodied man wants nothing to do with sex. The most charitable interpretation is that he's waxing hyperbolic. 

A powerful, innate, irrepressible desire for sex and female companionship is always in play. The potential is always in reserve. It's a live option. Some men leave the priesthood for women. Take the recent case of Fr. Jonathan Morris. Or Alberto Cutié. 

For different reasons, some men despair of that. They've given up hope. But the instinct is not a switch you can flip on and off. 

2. A more honest statement would be for Casey to say, not that he wants nothing to do with sex, but that he's made a sacrifice. His hardwired desire is overridden by a sense of duty. 

3. Since he's not a husband and father, he has no basis of comparison. Suppose he was happily married with kids. Would he regret his choice?

4. Wanting to have a normal family life isn't "worldly" but godly. God made us social creatures and sexual creatures. That's built-in. That's part of our telos. 

5. Casey erects a false dichotomy between having a normal family life and ministering to the sick, poor, emotionally-burdened, and elderly–as if those are mutually exclusive activities. In fact, ministry is emotionally draining, and a happy family life helps to recharge a pastor so that he can do ministry without undergoing emotional burnout. Compare that to the cliche of the "whisky priest" who can't cope with the yawning, interminable, inconsolable isolation and loneliness. 

6. Casey is well-educated in the sense that he has degrees in religion, but those aren't widely marketable. It's not like he has an MBA from Harvard, but went into the Franciscan order instead of Wall Street. And while he took a vow of poverty, it's not like he's living on the street. He enjoys free room and board. The Franciscan order provides for all the necessities. That frees him up to focus on other things. 

7. When you're young you have a sense of boundless opportunities. The future is wide open. You have opportunities to burn. You can blow opportunities but have to time make up for lost opportunities. As you age, opportunities dwindle. 

Many men can get to a point in life where they panic because they realize they just passed the last exit on the freewill. It's too late to turn around. This is for the duration. They must now continue on this course until they die. It will be this way all the way to the end. 

Casey is still too young to have that sense of life closing in on him, but that's the problem with his boastful statements. He's not at the point of life where he knows what he's talking about when he makes these back-patting, overly self-confident statements. He lacks the necessary experience. The youthful idealism may be sincere, but life can look very different at 50 than 30. There are seasoned priests who'd wince at his lack of foresight and self-understanding. It becomes costlier as time goes on. 

8. He talks about his jam-packed itinerary, but busyness can be a distraction from emptiness and loneliness. A better test is how you feel when you're not preoccupied with filler to pad out what's missing in your life. 

Low self-esteem

I'm not a psychologist, so this post is based on my personal observations. Many men and women suffer from low self-esteem. In my experience, there are Christian circles where felt-needs are denigrated as "moralistic therapeutic deism". And no doubt there are televangelists (e.g. Robert Schuller, Joel Osteen) who retail in flattery, telling people what they want to hear. 

It is, however, a great mistake for churches, pastors, and lay Christins to belittle the problem of low self-esteem. Historically, Puritan pastors like Richard Baxter and Richard Sibbes who took the issue seriously, only it was called something else back then. 

Some people seem to have a naturally melancholic disposition. That can be aggravated by things like seasonal affective disorder. That shades into the whole area of depression, which overlaps with low self-esteem. 

It's my impression that people with low self-esteem generally had an unhappy childhood. They didn't get what they needed from their parents during their formative years. Likewise, they may have been shunned or bullied at school. Obesity can also contribute to low self-esteem. Or lack of athletic prowess in school. 

Low self-esteem can feed on itself. Those who suffer from low self-esteem tend to be socially withdrawn, which exacerbates low self-esteem, so it's a vicious cycle. It's hard for them to trust other people. They are shellshocked by years of rejection. 

Rejection and betrayal are a perennial risk in romance and friendship, but it's harder for those with low self-esteem to cope because they have no insulation. No psychological padding. Nothing in reserve. Rejection and betrayal will reinforce their preexisting self-doubt, self-loathing, nagging sense that they must have done something to deserve it. 

Since I'm not a psychologist, it's possible that I'm overgeneralizing or overlooking some factors. 

The alternative to low self-esteem isn't necessarily high self-esteem. It doesn't mean I should have a high opinion of myself. It just means not to be dogged by a sense of personal inadequacy and failure. 

Christianity doesn't promise complete emotional healing in this life. For people who were deeply wounded in childhood and adolescence, it may be a lifelong battle. But Christianity can make the pain manageable. Moreover, Christians who struggle with low self-esteem can be wounded healers whose vulnerability is a strength when reaching out to other depressed people. It gives them empathy and understanding. What makes a Christian saintly isn't their natural areas of strength but how they handle their weaknesses. 

Blaming oneself is the default setting for those who suffer from low self-esteem. So how can that be overcome? Since it's natural to fall back into self-doubt and self-blame, you need a regular reminder to offset that pernicious dynamic. I'd suggest that you search your memory for people who notice praiseworthy things in you that you don't notice in yourself. People can recognize good things in you that you don't see in yourself. Make a record of that. 

In addition, memorize a list of Bible verses like Rom 8:1 ("Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus"), Heb 13:5 ("I will never leave you nor forsake you"), &c. Put those on your cellphone. 

Write yourself a letter (email) in which you include these things. Update it periodically. Automate the letter so that you receive it every two weeks (give or take). 

Have a collection of edifying hymns and songs to listen to regularly. Listen to that when you're driving or busing or walking. 

In addition, it's important for naturally upbeat Christians to encourage depressed Christians. They can absorb your positive energy. 

I'd add that there's an opposite danger. Some churchgoers try to live on the adrenal rush of an ersatz, bubblegummy praise-chorus piety that bears no resemblance to what many Christians must confront outside the sanctuary. The realism of the Psalms is a salutary corrective. 

In case you're wondering, I had a happy childhood, and I enjoyed school, so I don't suffer from low self-esteem. My struggles and regrets lie elsewhere. 

From Samuel Clemens to Mark Twain

Some men get depressed because they failed to reach their goal. Success and failure can be deceptive and paradoxical. Because we can't go through both doors at once, we don't know how things would have turned out had we succeeded.

Mark Twain is a failed Samuel Clemens. The original ambition of Samuel Clemens was to be a riverboat captain. That's what he trained for and had some rookie experience, but the Civil War destroyed that goal, so he had to settle for "second-best" by becoming a fiction writer under the pen name Mark Twain. Had he succeeded in achieving his dream, he might have have had a fulfilling career as a riverboat captain. Been happy with his choice in life. But he'd disappear from history without a trace. No one remembers Samuel Clemens–they remember Mark Twain. 

Because he failed, that forced him to tap into an unsuspected talent. Think of all the successful people who never develop their full potential because they succeeded at something beneath their ability. Conversely, think of all the "failures" who achieve distinction at something they didn't plan on doing, and fell back on as a last-ditch compromise. Samuel Clements' bad luck was Mark Twain's good luck.

Severe depression

As many have already heard, Jarrid Wilson committed suicide. Wilson was a 30 year old pastor in California who apparently had a lifelong struggle with depression.

In the relatively recent past, there have been other young evangelical Christians who have committed suicide as well. For example, Rick Warren's son Matthew shot and killed himself at age 27 in 2013. Also another pastor in California named Andrew Stoecklein took his own life at age 30.

I don't wish to comment on the ethics of suicide at this moment. Besides, other Christians like Steve have commented on suicide in the past and said far more intelligent and helpful things than I ever could.

Rather I'll just offer a useful screening tool for people who suspect they might be depressed or know those whom they suspect might be depressed. Not that all suicide attempts and suicides are necessarily related to depression but the majority are related to severe depression.

In any case, the "tool" is simply a series of questions that physicians (such as psychiatrists) will ask a person whom they suspect might be depressed to help determine if they are depressed and, if so, the severity of their depression. If they are severely depressed, as opposed to mild or moderate depression, it could mean they're at risk of suicide.

It's taken from a British book called the Oxford Handbook of Clinical Specialties (10th ed.), p 345:

We use a similar but not as memorable mnemonic in the US. They're different mnemonics but the same ideas or concepts underlie both.

You can click on both images to enlarge if need be.

For example, a physician will ask a person how many hours they're sleeping each night, how often, if they're tossing and turning or able to sleep right away. What they find enjoyable (e.g. reading books, watching movies, listening to music, taking walks on the beach) and how frequently they do these things. If they feel embarrassed or guilty of anything. How they feel when they're awake. If they're chronically tired. How well they can concentrate on small, medium, and big tasks. If they're under or over eating. How they're functioning at work and play. If they have made any well formulated plans to commit suicide.

Abortion regrets

2 boys gone forever, no footprints on this earth because I was scared. I will never to be called mum as I killed them through fear. Some choice! Now I cannot have children. Biggest regret ever. 3 hearts broken. #TellAStoryDay #IHadAnAbortion

— Rachel Mackenzie (@ProdigalDaugher) April 27, 2019

When there are no easy answers

I'll be quoting from John S. Feinberg, When There are No Easy Answers (Kregel 2016). He's an evangelical philosopher and messianic Jew. His mother suffered from chronic pain. His father developed dementia. His brother died of complications from diabetes. His wife has Huntington's disease, which, in turn, carries a 50/50 chance that it will be transmitted to their children.  

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At various times in my life I pondered whether I would still want to worship and serve God if he rewarded my faithfulness with severe affliction (17). 

Something else that heightens the feeling of abandonment. Invariably when news like this comes, people are very concerned; but for various reason, they tend to stay away. Some may feel that they will say the wrong thing and only make matters worse. They just stay away rather than taking the chance of sticking their foot in their mouth. Others may think that unless they have something "brilliant" to say that will remove all the pain and heartache, they should avoid the sufferer. Believing that they have nothing special to say, they don't communicate at all with the sufferer (29). 

Over the weeks, months, and years of dealing with tragedy, people who suffer "get used" to the problem they are facing. Adjustments in schedules are made as needed, and after a while, life returns to at least a semblance of normality. As this happens, those dealing with suffering and trials speak less often about the challenges facing them. Friends and family tend to take this as a cue that the sufferer is getting over whatever horrible things have happened. They assume, then, that the afflicted person must be doing fine with what has happened. As a result, they make little point to ask about the situation or offer any help that might be needed…[But] the burdens the sufferer bears are just as heavy as they ever were, and after bearing them for a long time, in some ways they hurt even more than they did at the start. Please remember, personal tragedy leaves an indelible mark that will only go away in eternity when God wipes away all tears. But we aren't there yet; so while the sufferer still bears the loss (as will be the case as long as he or she lives), continue to minister to his or her needs, just as you did during the first days, months, and years after tragedy struck (54-56).

In the weeks and months following Pat's diagnosis, I had so many thoughts and emotions rushing through my mind that I felt like there was a war going on inside my head. I felt like I had to express my thoughts, but I found few who would listen. It's not that I think friends and acquaintances didn't really care. I just think they weren't sure what to expect if they listened and whether they might make me feel worse by saying the wrong thing in response to what I would say. It was easier to pray for us or to offer a word of concern than to listen. Even today there are times when I just need someone to listen to how I feel and to what I've been thinking. And this is why it is so important for us to "be there" to listen, even if we have nothing profound to say in response. At times of crisis our profoundest contribution is our presence and our open ears. It says that we care and we understand the need to make public what is going on inside the sufferer's head and heart. So don't avoid the afflicted out of fear that you don't have the "magic words" to make the pain go away. Even if you have those words, when the pain is new and so intense, the sufferer cannot process what you would say. By listening instead, you gain the right to be heard when the sufferer is really ready and able to listen.

Listening alone won't make the pain go away, but it is a key first step. I hope I can encourage readers not to abandon the sufferer. I hope you will see that even if you don't have something to say that will remove the pain, you should still go to your suffering friend or family member. This is true  not only when tragedy first strikes; it is true for as long as the sufferer deals with his loss. Even now, there are times when I just need someone to listen to me talk about how I feel and what I think about what is happening to my  wife and family. Listening is far more helpful than you can ever imagine (59-60,62).

Here I must add that it is important for others to visit people who are sick. Thankfully, there are some friends who visit Pat regularly. But others visited only occasionally, and then stopped once Pat was not able to talk or interact with them. I understand that people like to think that when they visit the sick, it makes a difference to the patient. When the patient can't respond, it is easy to think you are accomplishing nothing, and so I understand why they stop visiting. But I must say two things. If you go at least in part because you think you can do some good for the patient, don't' assume you haven't helped just because the patient can't speak. If you could not speak, would you be happy to be left alone all day?…If you abandon your sick friend, what does that communicate? (63).

If I were ever to pastor again, I know one thing I would definitely do. At the very outset, I would work with church leaders to identify all the people in the congregation with special needs. And I would see to it that at least once every week (and no less than once every two weeks) someone in the church would contact these people…People with special needs may have little or no contact whatsoever with anyone for weeks at a time. Your love and care for them may be the only thing that brings any light into their life and dispels their loneliness, and it may be the only reason that they continue on in the faith. Though it may seems like an small investment of time and energy to those who do help, there is no way you can imagine the positive impact it will make when those you serve see that someone still cares and is there to offer a helping hand (70).

In previous chapters I have shared various lessons I have learned thorough our life experiences, and things that helped me to cope with our situation. But there were still a couple of issues raised along the way that bothered me. I knew that until I resolved them, they would continue to gnaw at me. I begin with the question of whether you could seek and find God's will only to wind up in a situation with severe affliction, something you expressly asked God to keep you from. And this raises the interesting theological question of whether on some occasions God gets us to do his will by withholding information from us, information that would have kept us from the situation. 

Once we got Pat's diagnosis, it seemed that I had made those choices under false pretenses. I believed God was leading me to choose one sort of life, when in fact I wound up with exactly the life I was trying to avoid. In fact, I was saddled with a situation worse than anything I could have ever dreamed in my worst nightmare. For a long time I was hurt and anguished by the thought that somehow God deceived me into marrying Pat by hiding information that could have saved me from my present circumstances…was it really God's will that I marry her but when one follows the Lord's leading one can expect to be double-crossed? How can one teach theology and write books about God, and yet be apparently so mistaken about how God works in people's lives? Such thoughts are among the most disturbing that I faced over the years, and they have been as disruptive to my relationship with the Lord as anything that I have ever experienced…The truth is that God had never promised me anything about my wife's health (99-100,104).

It is now more than twenty-eight ears since we first learned that she has Huntington's. That's a long time to live with someone who is slowly dying…The same old feelings of helplessness and hopelessness are always there, but increasingly they are joined with a growing loneliness as the Pat I married slips slowly and irreversibly away…Every time her condition became worse, it was much harder emotionally to deal with the changes than I'd anticipated. I had imagined what it would be like but it was always worse, and for a while I wondered why. Before too long I saw the reason. If you imagine what will happen next, you can make yourself feel very sad while you think about that. But the sadness doesn't last, because you know that she has not really reached that new level yet. When she does reach that level, you know that this is real and it won't go away. Seeing how bad things are and knowing that it will only get worse, you cannot help but feel more depressed. Indeed, the reality of what this disease is doing is always worse than whatever I can imagine (107,114).

When we first met and later decided to marry, there was no way we could have foreseen that our marriage would come to this–relatively short visits together each day in a nursing home…I also believe that God had another major intention for me, and it relates to marrying Pat. God decided to provide someone to manage Pat's needs and take care of her, and I am that someone…Over the last two decades or so as I have helplessly watched Pat's condition worsen, I have thought on a number of occasions that the point of this marriage is not about me but about her (115,124).

Do I have any regrets over marring Pat and having a family? If this question means would I have married her if I knew then what I know now, the  question is really impossible to answer. If I knew then what I know now, I would have known what a blessing from God she and my sons would be. I would have known all the problems I'd avoid by not marring her, but I'd also have known of the lost blessings. Would I give back those incredible blessings to escape the trials we have experienced? While many of us might wish for a different life, that is probably because we think a different life would be one with no problems, or at least one with nothing catastrophic. But in a fallen world there can be no guarantees of a life with only happiness and no problems or challenges. So perhaps I could have avoided the pains and sorrows that have come our way. But a different life might have had different but even  worse problems than those we have experienced. I certainly know that I have received many great blessings, and I wouldn't want to lose them! (128-29) 

When Pat moved into a nursing home, I had to pay a deposit of one month's fees, plus the amount it would cost for the first month of care. This amounted to around $13,000–indeed, nursing homes are not cheap, and this was back in November 2007. I didn't have that kind of money in my checking account, so I paid for it with credit cards. But the Lord had a very welcome surprise in store for us. 

My lawyer had been preparing the Medicaid application all summer, and filed it once Pat moved into the nursing home on November 15. Early in December, I received a call from a nurse at the nursing home. She asked about the brand of liquid food Pat used, because it was time to order a new batch. She wanted to know so that she could place the order and bill Medicaid. I told her that we had applied for Medicaid but hadn't yet heard whether Pat had been approve for it. The nurse told me that she saw in her computer that Pat was a Medical patient. After a few calls to government health agencies, I confirmed that Pat had been approved for Medicaid.

Needless to say, we were overwhelmed when we learned that within fourteen days after our lawyer submitted the Medicaid application, it was approved. And the approval was retroactive to the day she moved into the facility! All of the money I had given the nursing home would be refunded. I found this very had to believe–government agencies never move that quickly! Clearly, God's hand was in all of this. We again had a vivid reminder of the goodness of the Lord (112-13). 

Two brothers

Logan's younger brother Nolan was a really nice kid, but he struggled with depression. Despite psychological counseling, nothing helped. He could never put his finger on why he felt that-he just did. He couldn't control it. He couldn't make it go away. Like trying to shake his own shadow. Much of the time he was borderline suicidal.

The only thing that kept him from going over the edge was Logan's constant companionship. He really needed his brother's emotional support.

But depression feeds on itself. He kept comparing himself to his big brother. Logan was so strong and confident. Nolan felt he was a drag factor, holding him back. Logan could go so much further in life if he wasn't tethered to his chronically depressed, suicidal brother. At least that's what Nolan thought.

One day they had a conversation. Logan said that was the wrong way to view it. For one thing, Nolan's depression made them so much closer. If Nolan was more independent, they might take each other for granted. Logan would rather have a depressed brother he was close to than a normal brother who was distant. That was a precious tradeoff.

What's more, the dynamic was paradoxical. Logan was stronger, but he was stronger because he was happy, and he was happy because he had a brother to love, and love him back. So Nolan's weakness was a hidden source of Logan's strength. Logan was happier than Nolan because he had Nolan in his life. They were linked by an unseen lifeline. If Nolan ever killed himself, Logan would begin to die inside.

That was a revelation to Nolan. It never occurred to him. After that, he was still depressed, but no longer as depressed.

Broken Pieces and the God Who Mends Them: Schizophrenia Through a Mother's Eyes

Simonetta Carr is a mother and homeschool educator. She has worked as a freelance journalist and as a translator, and is the author of the Christian Biographies for Young Readers series. She was kind enough to answer a few of our questions about her newest book.

Q. Most of your books are about notable Christians and written for children, or for families to read together. In what ways did the process of writing a deeply personal book like Broken Pieces differ from those books?

A. There is no comparison. For the other books, I do a lot of research and then process the information, choosing the main points to share with young readers and finding the best way to communicate them. It's pretty straightforward.

Broken Pieces is completely different. As you said, it's a deeply personal book. I wrote the first part (memoir) fairly quickly, soon after my son's death, perusing all the diaries and emails I could find. It was OK to do it then. I don't think I could do it now.

The second part of the book (thoughts and advice) is an attempt to offer my feeble recommendations to readers who might find themselves in a similar or somehow related situation. This is the product of much research, through books and articles as well as interviews to psychiatrists, psychologists, pastors, mothers, and people who live with schizophrenia. I collected many answers and some new questions. This part was equally personal, not only because I compared this research with my experience, but because I found myself in a situation where I had to test my findings in a practical way.

Q. Is the church body (church members) doing a good job of ministering to those with mental illness and their families? How can we improve?

A. Sadly, it seems that we still have a long way to go in this respect. I would say society in general has a long way to go, and the church is no exception. The best way to improve is through education. We are all busy, so naturally we tend to read only subjects that touch us personally, but mental illness is more common than most people realize and could be as close as the person sitting next to us in the pew. Or even closer. Schizophrenia, for example, tends to appear suddenly where we least expect it. The common saying, "If you don't catechize your children, the world will" may be applied in this case too. If we don't educate ourselves and our children to understand mental illness and a proper Christian response to it, we will simply follow the shallow (and often damaging) comments we read in the news every time a crime is linked to mental illness.

Besides education, or while we are getting it, let's just look at our brothers and sisters as people bearing the image of God and offer our genuine friendship, fighting any feeling that makes us uncomfortable with something we don't fully understand. In my book, I make frequent mentions of John Newton's empathy, respect, and care towards his friend William Cowper. I also include a chapter on advocacy, which includes creating a loving and safe environment within the church.

Q. What are some tangible ways pastors and church leaders specifically can help families in their church who are affected by schizophrenia and mental illness?

A. I am not in the position of advising pastors. I would just repeat what I said about church members in general. Education is especially important, because people respect their pastor's opinions. Sadly, there are still pastors who discourage people from taking needed medications and blame all mental illness on a person's spiritual condition. I can't speak for other types of illness, but I know that schizophrenia can rarely be managed without medications. I have seen my son - an exceptionally intelligent young man - struggling to discern reality within a vortex of voices and perceptions. Nothing helped, until the medications decreased the voices to a level where they could be recognized and managed.

Education is also important in knowing how to avoid words that may generate stigma or trigger paranoid feelings. It's true that in some cases our society is becoming overly sensitive, but this is an area where caution is necessary.

My book include suggestions from pastors who had experience in this field.

Q. Are there three or four other resources on schizophrenia and/or mental illness that you recommend for readers who are eager to learn more.

A. I have a section at the end of my book with a variety of recommended resources. If you want to understand schizophrenia in general, the best book in my opinion is The Center Cannot Hold: My Journey through Madness, by Elyn R. Saks. Troubled Minds: Mental Illness and the Church's Mission by Amy Simpson is more exhaustive than mine on the church's response to mental illness. There is also a fairly new book by Michael R., Emlet, Descriptions and Prescriptions: A Biblical Perspective on Psychiatric Diagnoses and Medications, that can be of great help to pastors.

As for websites, the go-to place is usually the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI). They have a lot of information. On the Christian front, CRCNA's Disability Concerns provides many good resources.

Q. Last question: what are the books that have shaped you the most in your walk with Christ, and why?

A. Definitely a tough question. I read a lot and there are many books that have shaped my Christian life. Outside of the Bible, if you are looking for a monumental impact, I would say John Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion. When I first read it, I was a typical pragmatic Christian, the type that says, "Now that I know I am saved, just tell me what to do about my kids, my marriage, my devotions, etc." I read the Institutes out of curiosity and it jolted me into a completely different mindset, getting my eyes off my navel and onto the glory, majesty, and love of our Triune God.

Many books have shaped my life in a less drastic, but equally profound way. Right now I am slow-reading Ralph Erskine's Gospel Sonnets or Spiritual Songs, and it's a feast for my heart, pointing me to the love of Christ in ways that few authors can do. And that's really the only way to go through this pilgrim life with its obstacles, uncertainties, and sorrows, by "looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith," (Heb 12:1) or, to use Erskine's words, by making the object of our "chase the God of glory in the field of grace."

Rage against the light

It's interesting to see the different pathways that people take into Christianity. And it's sadly ironic that Woolf was so furious about Eliot's conversion to Christianity. She acts like this is a great betrayal. Yet it's not as if she was the happy humanist. To the contrary, she was suicidally depressed, with bouts of psychosis, throughout her life:

Virginia Woolf (1882-1941) was a close friend of T.S. Eliot's but his conversion to the Anglican Church was met with outrage. She wrote to her sister Vanessa Bell in February 1928: "Then I have had a most shameful and distressing interview with poor dear Tom Eliot, who may be called dead to us all from this day forward. He has become an Anglo-Catholic, believes in God and immortality, and goes to church. I was really shocked. A corpse would seem to me more credible than he is. I mean, there's something obscene in a living person sitting by the fire and believing in God." Once Eliot had found God, his contemporaries thought he was deluded and found his ignorance of social problems ongoing in England in favour of the Church strange with The Times Literary Supplement calling him "kind of a traitor." But for Eliot, there was no dramatic change, only "an expansion or development of interests." Eliot's situation immediately after 1927 echo the words of his new found saviour: "And you will be hated by all for my name's sake. But he who endures to the end will be saved" (Matthew 10:22). Was Woolf right to shun her friend's faith so aggressively? To some extent, her resentful attitude was not surprising or even new-found. Suzanne Hobson understands that for Eliot's generation "questions of religion and spirituality went far beyond the question of whether to attend church. That particular decision was often just the beginning of an individual's journey along the many byways of religion in the twentieth century." Whereas Pericles Lewis notes that religion and God were a dying, if not dead, concepts: "In a simplified retrospect, the Victorian era appears as the age of faith and its crisis - "the disappearance of God" (in the words of J. Hillis Miller) or "God's funeral" (the title of a poem of Thomas Hardy's and a recent study by A. N. Wilson) - while the twentieth century has already learned the lesson of the death of God and has no further need for Him." Friedrich Nietzsche's revolutionary phrase "God is dead" would have been natural and known to all in society during the early twentieth century, whether they believed it or not. Lewis adds, "Works like Ulysses, The Waste Land, and To the Lighthouse all share an impulse towards the re-enchantment of the world; they express the desire for a new form of spiritual experience independent of the Christian God and appropriate for the modern age." God was most likely driven out of the twentieth century by ideas of Enlightenment thinkers like Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), and Charles Darwin's (1809-1882) theory of Evolution (On The Origin of Species, 1859), which were both strengthened in the preceding centuries. Even the growing philosophical schools of the twentieth century, like Logical Positivism, helped shroud the image of God. However, Lewis correctly identified that with the constant attention God and theology received in the twentieth century, "If God died in the nineteenth century, then he had an active afterlife in the twentieth." It was in this vein of God's "after afterlife" that Christians like C.S. Lewis (1898-1963) and Karl Barth (1886-1968) flourished. It is perhaps noteworthy to point out that Eliot and his contemporary, C.S. Lewis, shared somewhat of a similar story as they were both raised in religious traditions they did not enjoy: Unitarianism and Church of Ireland; both embraced non-religious thinking when they left for university: philosophy and atheism (or paganism); and finally, they both converted to Anglicanism in 1927, and 1931, respectively. In Surprised By Joy, Lewis understands his conversion having occurred like this: "I was driven to Whipsnade [Zoo] one sunny morning. When we set out I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did. Yet I had not exactly spent the journey in thought. Nor in great emotion. "Emotional" is perhaps the last word we can apply to some of the most important events. It was more like when a man, after long sleep, still lying motionless in bed, becomes aware that he is now awake." This quote however, does not take into account the numerous instances before 1931 when Lewis had been getting 'Christianized' by J.R.R. Tolkien (1892-1973) and Hugo Dyson (1896-1975).

Unlike Lewis's mild conversion story, Eliot's story consisted of more drama. Gordon notes that Eliot visited Rome in 1926 with his brother and sister-in-law. What transpired there stunned Eliot's kin. He fell down onto his knees before Michelangelo's Pietà and adored it. It is not recorded how his kin reacted to this - other than being surprised - but had this been in front of his older generation, Eliot would have been mocked and scolded. Gordon understands that Unitarians were not keen on bowing the knee for any occasion. Eliot's cousin' wife, Mrs. Charles William Eliot, was said to have "wrote censoriously to a friend who had joined the Episcopalian Church: 'Do you kneel down in church and call yourself a miserable sinner? Neither I nor my family will ever do that!" But Eliot seemed to admire this gesture of worship through degradation. The young Eliot was raised in the upper-class religious tradition of Unitarianism, which was founded by his grandfather, William Greenleaf Eliot in 1834. Eliot said of his grandfather, "The standard of conduct was that which my grandfather had set out: our moral judgements, our decisions between duty and self-indulgence, were taken as if, like Moses, he had brought down the tables of the Law, any deviation from which would be sinful." Manju Jain and others state that the young Eliot "referred to himself as having been brought up "outside the Christian Fold, in Unitarianism"". Robert Crawford further acknowledges Eliot as proclaiming, "The Son and Holy Ghost were not believed in, certainly; but they were entitled to respect." Cleo McNelly Kearns understands that Unitarians held "a long tradition of resistance to the more hierarchical and mystagogic forms of the religious life, as well as to the rebarbative dogmas and internecine quarrels of their Puritan and Calvinist forebears." Gordon emphasises the strict nature of Unitarianism, as evidenced by Charles William Eliot's wife words earlier. Gordon claims, "The religion taught by William Greenleaf Eliot was strict rather than spiritual. He was not concerned with perfection, or doctrine, or theology, but with a code that would better the human lot." It seemed that Unitarianism wanted to prepare man's exterior for the Divine, rather than the important action of preparing man's interior, which the Divine is more concerned about as Isaiah said, "All flesh is grass, / And all its loveliness is like the flower of the field / The grass withers, the flower fades, / Because the breath of the LORD blows upon it" (Isaiah 40: 6-8). When Eliot fell on his knees before the figure of Mary cradling the wounded and dead body of her son, Jesus Christ, Eliot's interior was touched by the Divine, undoing the years of fruitless exterior preparation Unitarianism did for him. Jain further shows that in the early nineteenth century Unitarianism established their power further by gaining control of religious institutions in New England, the centre of Unitarianism in America being Harvard Divinity School. Harvard had strong Calvinistic ideas, but in 1805, Henry Ware was elected to the Hollis Chair which ushered out Calvinistic ideas present at the School and replaced them with Unitarianism. With such a strong presence of Unitarianism at Harvard, why did Eliot choose to study there if he wanted to escape the clutches of the tradition? Was it because it was a family tradition, since his grandfather and cousin studied there and maintained a strong presence in the institution? Or perhaps despite its Unitarian theology, did Eliot want to immerse himself into Harvard's renowned philosophy department which contained eminent scholars like William James, George Santayana and Josiah Royce? The latter seems more feasible, though the former cannot be disregarded, as it may have been that he was awarded a place at Harvard because he was an 'Eliot'. During this "golden age of American philosophy", Eliot had a golden ticket in the form of a place at Harvard to study under the best, with even Bertrand Russell claiming that Harvard had the finest school of philosophy in the world until James, Santayana and Royce left their positions.

When Eliot came to England, Anglicanism was not the primary religion which interested him. According to Kearns, after studying the Indic religions and learning Sanskrit at Harvard, Eliot developed an intense desire for Buddhism. However, Lewis states that it was both, Buddhism and Hinduism, which Eliot wanted to pursue, not just Buddhism. England gave Eliot a freedom, America never could: the freedom of faith. Kearns states that "Religion meant for him [Eliot] not just and not even primarily a system of beliefs but rather the sum total of the ritual, cultic, and related social practices of a given society, each of them in more or less functional relation to the others." The Buddhist magga or path seemed to be the road Eliot was destined for before his 1926 Pietà moment. What was it then about Buddhism that attracted Eliot to it? Kearns understands that, "Buddhism attracted Eliot for its profound recognition of the pain inevitably associated with human desire, and its insistence that all merely personal self-identity is constructed upon lack, and has no essential subsistence except as a provisional, sometime enabling, though often blinding illusion." However, Eliot never officially converted to Buddhism in his life but maintained a lifelong fascination with the tradition with Kearns suggesting that "Four Quartets for instance is in some respects a great poem of Buddhist wisdom, able to render extremely subtle concepts such as that of sunyata or divine emptiness in such memorable images as the lotus rising from the empty pool." This is strongly supported by Staffan Bergsten's view that after conversion Eliot saw the Indian religions as forming a "preparatory stage or an introduction to the full Christian revelation, and although not wholly compatible with the revealed truth, they contain many philosophical elements that can be embraced by a Christian." This shows that Eliot held onto his Buddhist views even after conversion and may have wanted to integrate the ideals of the Indian religion into Western Christianity. So, why did Eliot not convert to Buddhism? Firstly, it may have been for a practical reason as he was unable "to make much of Oxford's Buddhist Society." Secondly, and on a deeper level, "that Eliot did not "become" a Buddhist, a devotee of Robert Graves's pagan goddess, a Hindu or even (like Ezra Pound, Irving Babbitt, and I.A. Richards) a Confucian, was due to the pragmatism and sophistication with which, after his philosophical investigations, he tended to treat all such decision." Jain agrees with this view.

One person who, like Woolf, was a thorn in Eliot's acceptance of Christianity was, Ezra Pound. Gordon notes that when Eliot met Pound in 1914, "Eliot was writing quasi-religious poems." As impressed as Pound was with Eliot's poetic brilliance, he was dismissive of his religious poetry and growing inquisition into Christianity as Gordon states, "Eliot's preoccupation with questions of Christianity, theology, and evil was undercover because he remained in doubt.In July 1917 he acknowledged that life was poor without religion, but as yet he was unconvinced it was the greatest of all satisfactions and so worth the effort." Pound may have been the reason that Eliot did not turn to Christianity sooner than 1927. "Christianity has become a sort of Prussianism, and will have to go," Pound thought, adding, "It has its uses and is disarming, but it is too dangerous. Religion is the root of all evil, or damn near all." On another occasion Pound was seen to be attacking monotheism: "I consider the Metamorphoses [by Ovid] a sacred book, and the Hebrew scri ptures the record of a barbarian tribe, full of evil." When Eliot eventually took up the offer of Anglicanism as the cure for his cultural despair, Pound commented, "His diagnosis is wrong," and added, 'His remedy is an irrelevance.' In 1927, when Eliot converted to Anglicanism, his contemporaries and scholars today agree that it was as a last resort. Gordon claims, "Eliot accepted the morality of damnation, and could not save himself without help. It seems that at this time he felt no fervour, and was driven to the Church almost as a last resort." Kearns agrees with this view. Donald Davie understands that "when it came to deciding what Christian sect he should join, it was of the utmost importance to him that he choose what should seem to be not a sect at all but a nation norm, its normality shown in that it was backed by the secular and institutional forces of the nation-state." Conversion was not solely about joining an organization but about finding an identity which had been distorted by Unitarianism, Eastern religions, myths and personal problems. It also symbolised a release of self-control and be driven by the Divine, or as Gordon states, Eliot assumed himself "prepared to close the gap between human frailty and superhuman perfection." This gap could only be eliminated by the Church of England as "Eliot saw in the English Church decency, common sense, and a moderation that, he felt, might provide a corrective to the faddist modern mind." The gap which Eliot described further is morphed into a wide and deep river in a letter addressed to W.F. Stead. After Eliot's first confession took place in December 1928 he told Stead that "he had finally crossed a very wide and deep river, never to return". After his conversion, Eliot was said to uphold typical Anglican beliefs and act in accordance with them. Bergsten states that Eliot's emphasis laid on the Incarnation of Christ, which is a major theme in Four Quartets, is a well-known characteristic of Anglican theology. Eliot professed: "I take for granted that Christian revelation is the only full revelation; and that the fullness of Christian revelation resides in the essential fact of the Incarnation, in relation to which all Christian revelation is to be understood." Along with the importance of the Incarnation, Eliot grew a strong respect for sexual purity. "Lust seemed to him the most corrupting of all sins and, as a young man, he wished the flesh could be denied, burnt away by that refining fire he so often invoked," claimed Gordon. Soon after his conversion he wrote savagely that those who 'suffer the ecstasy of the animals' [Marina, SP, p. 93] may look forward only to death. Eliot's proclivity to purity puts him in a long strand of Christian thinkers like Maximus the Confessor (580-662) who like Eliot, emphasised asceticism ; and St. Francis of Assisi (1182-1226), who, in the words of St. Bonaventure (1221-1274), stressed to "preserve the white robe of purity from the flames of sensual pleasure".

Eliot was known to be a reserved man but after his conversion he turned more radical as he urged Anglicans for a stricter theology, discipline and asceticism, "not watered down and robbed of the severity of it demands." Of the three, correct theology was of utmost importance for Eliot because "In accepting the Christian position, he willed to believe that there really is a Centre, a shared Centre," which perhaps he was cautious of other people misunderstanding. It is not known if he was certain that his Anglican theology was the correct one but he seemed to act as if it were the only truth in terms of Christian understanding, and was not afraid to remind those who he though did not possess similar understanding. Eliot knew the St. Louisian author, and literary critic Paul Elmer More (1864-1937) who was one of "the two wisest men" (emphasis Eliot) in his life, the other being the Harvard professor, Irving Babbitt. More was raised a Presbyterian, but converted Anglicanism. Though Eliot praised More for actively seeking the "the concentrated mind of God", he was however critical of More's failure to recognize the continuity of the Church and the importance of mysticism and mystics like Julian of Norwich. In advancing his idea of Christian theology, he even criticized his former teacher, Babbit, in a 1937 essay titled 'Revelation'. Eliot criticizes his former teacher for having failed to discern the inherent truths of Christianity, truths which, Eliot suggests, place it above all other religions and philosophies." Along with his theology, Eliot's sense of community strengthened too after 1927. This is evident from three lines of 'Choruses from The Rock' (1934): "What life have you if you have not life together? There is no life that is not in community, And no community not lived in praise of God." (II, lines 38-40, SP, p. 104) Alan Marshall understands that "what Eliot seems to be saying here is that all communities are Christian in tendency." This view perhaps did not persist during his time writing The Waste Land and other poems as there is no sense of a community in The Waste Land, only fragments of situations and conversations witnessed by the narrator. To some extent this shows that Eliot's sense of community was formed after his conversion which Marshall agrees with. However, Timothy Materer clarifies that though Eliot admires Christianity, it is solely a Christian community that he speaks of: "In After Strange Gods, as well as The Idea of a Christian Society (1940) and Notes Towards the Definition of Culture (1949), a unified religious background means Christianity alone, since Eliot believes that for Western civilization the only alternative to a Christian society or culture is a pagan one." In keeping with this view, Eliot joined a Christian discussion group, the Moot, established by the Scottish missionary J.H. Oldham (1879-1969) in 1939, to bring together leading Christian thinkers from London and surrounding areas. The aim of the group was to discuss possible Christian solutions to the failure of democracy as seen in the World War II. Hobson states that, "although he was never quite convinced, either by the Moot's message or by its methods, Eliot was in accord with the idea that Christianity was the solution to an urgent problem.

https://www.tutorhunt.com/resource/14159/

The worst suffering we will ever face

I'm unconvinced by his central claim that most of our suffering  isn't caused by what happens to us–that's it's really about our attitude. That said, he has a lot of experience on this topic, and he has some helpful insights to offer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDEVqEhxuB8

Taking a break from church

https://selfwire.org/article/doubt

In this article, Maxwell makes some good points. That said:

i) Losing confidence in Christianity ought to erode confidence in values generally. Indeed, the logical link between faith and value is a reason to maintain commitment to Christianity. 

ii) Especially if you're passing through a season of doubt, I wouldn't recommend reading divergent views on theodicy, since that will be disorienting at a time when your faith is already disoriented. Stick with something reliable, like Why Is There Evil in the World (and So Much of It?) by Greg Welty. Also, Leibniz and Plantinga are too cerebral for most laymen. 

iii) There's a difference between doubt and loss of faith. 

iv) As for taking a break from church when you suffer a crisis of faith, that raises a number of questions:

It depends on part on whether you're suffering from emotional doubt or intellectual doubt. I don't see how intellectual doubt is a reason to resent the company of other Christians.

By contrast, since emotional doubt involves a sense of alienation from God, that's more likely to alienate you from a sense of fellowship with other Christians. 

v) It also depends on the kind of church you attend. If it's a smaller church where everyone knows each other, then it may be too demanding to maintain the chipper facade. Sometimes we just want to be let alone. And that's more the case for introverts. 

Large churches provide more personal space for anonymity, where you can retain some aspects of worship without having to make small talk. It allows you to maintain some distance or calibrate your degree of involvement. 

I think some aspects of Christian worship, like good Christian music and architecture, can be sustaining even if you're spiritually alienated or at low ebb. The text, music, and aesthetics can still speak to you.  

vi) If someone is merely suffering from intellectual doubt, I see no reason to avoid church or Christian community. How are you better off on the outside? It's not hypocritical to attend church even if you lose your faith. Sometimes attendance is a statement of hope rather than faith. Waiting for the clouds to clear. Even if they never clear, you need to stay on the trail. The forest is not your friend. If you leave the trail, you are bound to be lost–in every sense of the word. Morally, spiritually, intellectually. In this life and the next. 

vii) Even a pastor shouldn't automatically step down if he suffers a crisis of faith. That's something he should try to work through. Perseverance is about forging ahead during the worst times. 

Admittedly, the demands of pastoral ministry can be exhausting if a pastor is in crisis. And there comes a point where it may be necessary to step down if loss of faith continues. 

viii) Apostates typically suffer from the childish illusion that intellectual honesty is an absolute virtue. Which fails to appreciate the fact that atheism can never be a genuine alternative. What are you leaving Christianity for? Nothing good or better is waiting for you if you turn your back on Christianity. Walking in the twilight of doubt is still incomparable better than walking in the darkness of a grim, godless existence. And if you think atheism isn't hopeless, you're fooling yourself.

Many apostates romanticize apostasy and act as though making a clean break is an improvement. But if you wish to see intellectual dishonesty on display, watch apostates rationalize atheism. There's no merit in taking responsibility outside the only paradigm that makes responsibility meaningful. That's just egotism masking nihilism. The problem is not lack of intellectual honesty regarding Christianity but atheism. There is no duty to be an atheist. 

ix) You ought to have Christian friends outside of church. Even if you take a break from church, that doesn't mean you abandon Christian community altogether. Your faith should always be larger than church attendance. In a sense, your faith should always be independent of church attendance. If you pass through the valley of the shadow of doubt or loss of faith, you ought to have Christian friends outside of church you can fall back on–for basic emotional and intellectual companionship. Where you don't have to play pretend. 

Can a true Christian have depression?

"God never gives us more than we can bear"

It's often said that God never gives us more than we can bear (or handle). That's a popular interpretive paraphrase of 1 Cor 10:13. But is it true? I don't mean, is the Bible verse true, but the popular interpretation. The passage that forms the basis of the platitude says:

No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.

On the face of it, that doesn't refer to situations in general, but temptation in particular. Admittedly, the Greek word is ambiguous. But in addition, the surrounding context is about temptation to commit sin. In particular, the sin of apostasy or sins associated with apostasy. 

So it doesn't seem to be a general promise that God will shield us from untenable situations. That doesn't mean God won't shield us from untenable situations. But you can't get that out of this particular verse.

There's also a distinction between what's objectively unbearable and what's subjectively unbearable. Between what's circumstantially unbearable and what's psychologically unbearable. Even if (ex hypothesi) God always gives Christians an opt-out in untenable situations, it doesn't follow that we never find ourselves unable to cope emotionally. 

Another ambiguity is that something might be unbearable in the short-term, but bearable in the long-term, assuming that if we persevere, the weight will lighten or fall off our shoulders. On the other hand, you have people who live with unending despair–day after day. Or people broken beyond repair. Or people who go through cycles. 

There are passages about the sufficiency of God's grace in Paul's life. Perhaps that's applicable. However, we can't just assume that God will do as much for us as he did for Paul. Paul had a unique role to play in Christian history. 

For some Christians, the promise of 1 Cor 10:13, as they understand it, may function as a self-fulfilling prophecy. It gives them the extra nudge of encouragement they need to get through a crisis.

For for other Christians, it might have the opposite effect. It makes them feel guilty. They take it to mean they have the duty and ability to get through this crisis, yet they find it unendurable, and to be saddled with the belief that they've failed God makes it all the more insupportable. 

What about Christians who commit suicide? Was their plight bearable or unbearable? There's an obvious sense in which the strain was too much for them to take. 

Someone might say their plight was bearable, so if they buckled under the strain, that means they didn't exercise enough faith. There's a circular, unfalsifable quality to that explanation. If you survive the crisis, then it was bearable–and if you crack under the pressure, it was still bearable! 

Likewise, someone might say that while they felt their crisis was unbearable, we need to distinguish between feelings and reality. If, however, we're talking about an inconsolable state of mind, like acute depression, then that is the reality! It's their mental state that's beyond endurance.

Or even if they don't kill themselves, they live mechanically, with nothing to look forward to from one day to the next. They feel trapped in this world. Trapped in their body. Waiting to die. 

In a fallen world, it's not unexpected if some people, including some Christians, find life unbearable. Indeed, some believers might find life more unbearable than some unbelievers. Many unbelievers cling to this life because they think that's all they're ever going to get. They'd rather be miserable than dead. By comparison, Christians have a point of contrast. 

So it may be that God gives some Christians more than they can bear in this life, since this life is temporary. However unbearable, it will end–but not in this life. Rather, it will end when life ends, and heaven begins. 

Admittedly, that may sound hopeless compared to the claim that God never gives us more than we can handle. But I suspect that for some Christians, that platitude aggravates the sense of despair, because it's just not what they experience. So if nothing is wrong with the platitude, something must be wrong with them. 

My point is not to take a dogmatic position, but to question a facile platitude. A platitude that probably helps some believers and probably hurts other believers. A platitude that's far from unquestionable. 

Post-Christian society

Ironically, the author doesn't recognize that he's describing the consequences of a post-Christian society:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/oct/12/neoliberalism-creating-loneliness-wrenching-society-apart

Lament on a hospital bed

http://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/book-reviews-piper-lessons-hospital-bed

Crouching at the door

6 Then the Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry? And why has your countenance fallen? 7 If you do well, will not your countenance be lifted up? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it” (Gen 4:6-7, NASB).

As two commentators explain:

In this understanding the expression reverses the earlier imagery of Cain's "downcast" face. When Cain practices what is right, there will be an uplifted face… K. Mathews, Genesis, 1:269-70. 

"It will be lifted up"–this probably refers to Cain's face, which has fallen. In other words, his countenance will no longer be one of despondency and dejection. However, if Cain continues to do wrong, then sin will hound him–sin is lurking, waiting to pounce. J. Currid, Genesis, 1:145. 

Among other things, this is a reference to depression. To my knowledge, it's the first reference to depression in world literature.

Then there's the additional image. It may depict sin/depression as a predator that's lying in wait on the porch. 

Some commentators think this alludes to the Mesopotamian tradition of a doorway demon. One prima facie problem with that interpretation is the anachronism. If this preserves a real conversation between God and Cain, then there was no such Mesopotamian tradition at the time God spoke to Cain.

In principle, the Mesopotamian tradition could be based on something much earlier. And a demonic presence would dovetail nicely with Gen 3. 

Still, there's nothing in the imagery that implies that. It can easily be taken to be a personification of sin/depression as an ambush predator. The point of the doorway metaphor is that  doors function to keep things out. It marks the barrier between inside and outside. The moment you open the door you either risk letting unwanted intruders inside, or you leave the safety of your shelter to venture out into the unprotected wild. 

Connecting this to the theme of depression, for people who suffer from it, depression is like a crouching predator that waits for you, stalks you. You may shake it off, but you never know when it will return. You may face it when you get up in the morning. It follows you, shadows you, overshadows you. Just when you think you put it behind you it's right around the corner. A very apt metaphor for depression.