As a pastor and therapist, I often encounter people whose lives have been invaded by despair. Usually they approach me, not quite sure what's going on. "Maybe I'm going crazy. Or perhaps I'm just depressed. Can you help?"
It can be a scary experience, for lay people and pastors alike.
In this issue, you've read about St. John's la noche oscura, or dark night, that difficult invasion of God's astringent grace that opens us to new realms of spiritual experience. However, it's easy to miss this moment of grace, especially if we fail to ask deeper questions about what God might be up to.
Recently a 38-year-old pastor called me for advice. His church wasn't growing. His prayer lacked passion. His preaching seemed to fall on deaf ears. Previously helpful spiritual practices no longer delivered. And growing temptations to look at pornography or lose himself in Fantasy Football were worrying him and his wife. Feeling helpless and depressed, he wondered if he'd hit a ministry wall. I told him that I sensed an extraordinary moment of grace and growth. As I often do, I told him that he needed to talk to a psychologist to evaluate therapeutic issues, and possibly the need for medication.
His story, and countless others like it, raises tough questions about how we should view the dark night. What's the difference between depression and the dark night? Is there a difference? And what practical steps can we take to move through it and grow spiritually and emotionally?
The Mind/Spirit divide
St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa of Avila envisioned the dark night as a time of spiritual purging and illumination, but they weren't strict dualists. They understood that psychological dynamics are often at play in a dark night experience. Though they lacked modern categories and definitions, they were some of the most adept psychological minds of their day. St. John taught that melancholia, or depression, would often accompany the dark night. For him, it wasn't an either/or, but more often a both/and. The spiritual and psychological are interconnected.
Unfortunately we've failed to learn this valuable lesson. Often psychologists see depression merely as a neurochemical problem that needs to be fixed. And too often pastors spiritualize psychological maladies that may require further expertise. I read recently that a pastor was counseling sex addicts to avoid therapy and to choose a "Gospel Cure." According to this pastor, conquering sex addiction was simply a matter of getting honest about our spiritual condition and embracing God's love. On the other side, I find that many therapists, (Christian therapists, too), have little insight into employing spiritual disciplines, or challenging clients to avail themselves of the spiritual benefits of worship, the liturgy, and the sacraments. This divide would have been completely foreign to St. Teresa or St. John.
Jesus invites the "weary and heavy laden" to find rest in him. That goes for pastors too.
One lesson we learn from the ancient mystics is that dark nights are not problems, but opportunities. Grasping this reality moves us beyond the question "How do we fix this?" to the question "What might I learn in this?"
In our North American context, failure and struggle are often viewed as problems, jagged detours on what is supposed to be the smooth, straight road of life. It's a distinctly Western phenomenon, but one that subtly impacts our Christian perceptions. Thus, pastors feel as if depression, doubt, or distance from God amount to obstacles to ministry, rather than opportunities for it.
When the young pastor I mentioned above called me, he was worried for himself, for his family, and for a congregation that expected him to be "on" each week. As I listened, it was clear he'd benefit from some therapy. He had never explored his family of origin before, and a few questions showed that Dad's high expectations manifested in self-criticism and a fear of failure. That's why I advised him to see a therapist. But was his issue simply a family-of-origin problem?
St. John of the Cross would say no, and I'd agree. Most psychological issues parallel real spiritual issues. What we call difficulty or failure or even a "psychological issue" can occasion moments of spiritual awakening. I suspect St. John would see this pastor's difficulty with prayer, or his lack of passion, and even his pull toward lust, as signs of the dark night. The purpose of the dark night, of course, is to strip us of our futile attempts to find God on our own terms, and to awaken us to a much simpler desire for intimacy with God. I find in my work that this is exactly what people want. Time and again, pastors tell me that they'd just like to know God, more purely, more simply, more deeply.
Finding God and Finding Help
The late psychiatrist and spiritual director Gerald May once told me that depression and the dark night ordinarily accompany one another. I suspect that he told me this because I was experiencing both. It was a rough time in my personal and professional life. I felt listless and lacked energy. I wanted to sleep—a lot. I didn't care about people, including the people I was called to pastor. And yet, there was a strange humbling that was taking place. I was beginning to realize I wasn't a ministry superhero. I was called to follow Jesus, but not to be him. I was just a struggling man called to proclaim the good news. Though it was a difficult period, I felt strangely freed. I didn't neglect my psychological and physical needs. I went on anti-depressants, started exercising more regularly, and jumped into therapy. Yet, wise souls in my life recognized that this moment was a redemptive moment, not simply a psychological problem.
The great 19th century preacher, Charles Spurgeon, suffered from acute depression. Often he was bed-ridden and unable to preach, sometimes twice a month. Nowadays, we may have little compassion for a pastor who battled such frequent and debilitating bouts of depression. However, Jesus invites the "weary and heavy laden" to find rest in him. That goes for pastors too.
Today, these emotional struggles find psychological validation, and we ought to avail ourselves of therapy, exercise, support groups, and medication when we need it. There is no shame in finding help in any of these things.
But, also consider this moment to be an opportunity to see what Jesus may be up to in your life, or in the lives of those you counsel. What you might find is that you're being invited into the glorious purging of the dark night, where the old self and its old loves are shed and replaced by a new and deeper love for Jesus, for others, and even for you—a beloved son or daughter of a heavenly Father who longs to see you whole.
Chuck DeGroat is vice president of Newbigin House of Studies, a therapist, and a pastor at City Church San Francisco.
Copyright © 2011 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
