Strength for Mental Illness

The subject of mental illness seems to be getting more air time than ever before, and we should be grateful since much of it has been helpful.  Yet even if church leaders recognize the complexities of mental illness and the great need that exists for sufferers to find support in the church, ministry to the mentally ill can be trying and seemingly fruitless much of the time.  And just as enduring mental illness is often a life-long journey, ministry to those who suffer will often need to take the long view as well.   

When you're on the outside of mental illness, often the temptation is to see it more like an intellectual puzzle and counsel accordingly.  Even the sufferer will spend countless hours wishing for answers to all the typical questions.  Why me?  Why does it hurt so much?  And how long can I endure it? 

During my first semester at Southwestern, I had an anxiety attack that lasted about two weeks until I resigned to spending the day in bed with the covers pulled over my head.  During that time, I don't believe answers would have been much help.  Even an academic map tracing the connection between post traumatic stress and panic would have been of little use.   

The summer before I started Kindergarten, Dad and Grandpa were replacing the barbed wire fence along the road in front of our house.  I wouldn't have shoes until school started, so I followed barefoot as they set posts and strung wire.  But a section of fence lay in the midst of briars and stickers, and I had to navigate through and around as best I could, but there was no avoiding the assault to my thick-soled feet.   

Likewise, when one is trying to find his or her way through mental illness, charting a course will be of little help, as it's not so much a puzzle to solve but a journey to endure.  When trying to navigate life under the crushing weight of mental illness, that for which we are desperate is not direction, but strength.   

Job spent many chapters seeking answers to his questions of suffering, but for a brief passage he changes his tone.  In chapter 13 verse 22 he says, "Then call, and I will answer, or I will speak, and You can respond to me."  For a moment Job seems to stop looking for answers and simply wants God to be present with him, to still have a sense that God was not his enemy.   

When I was a kid, there were plenty of broken bones, bouts with the flu, and emotional fallout from playground politics.  And I have to say that strength came from knowing that I could count on Mom and Dad to love me.  Yet parents aren't perfect and may not always be around, but there is a better strength.  It comes from knowing we can count on the love of our ultimate Father.   

Job didn't have the same assurance of God's love that we enjoy.  When we look to the cross, seeing the Son of God receiving the ultimate crushing weight of despair in order that He may purchase our eternal peace, we can know that whatever the reason for our mental suffering, whatever the reason for peace of mind being so allusive,  whatever the reason for our dependence on medication for a degree of normalcy; whatever the reason... we know it can't be because He doesn't love us. 

Reflections

I remember when David started working at Heath's Restaurant.  He was a personality full of life and humor and people liked him.  Except me.  I had too many deficiencies at the time to like many people at all.  One thing David used to do was hold the palm of his hand up to someone as if it were a mirror to remind them of how awesome they were.  He and Phillip, to my chagrin, did this back and forth with relentless consistency.  

 

David and I never became friends until years later when we were both pastors.  He honored me with an invitation to speak at his associational youth rally, yet he wouldn't be there because he was being led to a church out in New Mexico.  So I travelled up and did my best to honor his invitation and then thanked him via Facebook.  Since then I've liked some of his posts and he's liked some of mine.   

 

Though our friendship has been sparse and mostly uneventful, I was moved to tears this morning as he went in for surgery to remove a brain tumor.  Like hundreds of others, I've followed his pictures and thoughts on Facebook, and from what I can tell, he hasn't ceased to be himself one little bit.  

 

I reflected on a couple of questions this morning.  First, what has happened that has brought me to this point in life where I feel enough kinship with David to actually shed tears for him? The answer is found in the Gospel, for an astounding piece of theology is the Gospel's work of not only transforming people into brothers and sisters, but transforming them into people of compassion who are moved to bear one another's burdens.  

"For we were all baptized by one Spirit into one body," --1Corinthians 12:13.   

 

Secondly, how is David able to maintain such a high watermark of composure during this trying time?  This leads us to an even more astounding truth in the Gospel.  That God himself would enter into a rebellious creation in the person of Jesus.  He would not only live the life of peace we should live, but he would experience the rejection we deserve to receive.   

 

"About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out with a loud voice ..., “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” --Matthew 27:46. 

 

Jesus received the divine abandonment we deserve so we could receive the eternal acceptance of God that He deserved.  Therefore when believers are tempted to think God has abandoned them, the truth of the Gospel assures us that He hasn't.   

 

I'm so thankful David is still holding up a mirror.  Yet it's not the palm of his hand, it's his peaceful spirit.  And its reflecting the goodness of a great Savior.

Revival for the Weary

            I’ve been praying and thinking about the revival meetings beginning this Sunday.  What exactly is revival and why should we desire it?  The human heart is so easily distracted as it continually latches onto whatever might contribute to its feelings of significance.  We need to believe we are OK, that we matter.  We live for our work, our kid's success, our reputation, our influence, our relationships—anything we can use to give our lives meaning.  

Our inner conversation goes something like this: “I know I matter because I’m successful.  I know my life has meaning because I live for my kids.  I know I have purpose because people respect me.  I know I’m worthwhile because someone loves me.” We can give all we have to these idols, building our lives around them, becoming a slave to them, unable to imagine life without them. 

The first problem with these sources of validation is they are notoriously unstable.  We can lose a job.  Kids can disappoint.  Reputations can be tainted, influence can diminish, and relationships can end.  And if those were the source of our identity, we won’t experience regular grief and sadness—we will feel like we can’t go on living. 

            This identity implosion and psychological despair can lead to suicide or various addictions, even violence toward whoever got between us and our functional savior.  And even though it was this idol that cursed us, we can become quite angry at God. 

            The deceptive nature of this kind of idolatry lies in one’s ability to simultaneously live very moral and even religious lives.  We can attend church, give to the poor, and lead other Christians, all the while thinking, “If only I could achieve this, then I would feel good about myself.  If only I can keep this relationship, then I will truly feel like I matter.”    

In college, my own sense of self-value was attached to academic performance.  Every exam, depending on how I did, could alter my mood for days.  My first B on a semester grade-report made me feel like a failure.  As long as I did well, I felt acceptable.

This is the glory of the gospel.  God will accept you perfectly because Jesus was rejected completely.  No need to seek validation and self-worth in our works and achievements.  When we choose to trust in Christ, we have approval and acceptance from the only One who matters. 

So how well do you know your own heart?  What do you depend on to give meaning to your life?  Whose approval comforts you as long as you have it?  What do you strive to accomplish so you can feel complete?  What is it you feel you have to get, or have to keep in order to feel acceptable?  Is it time for a revival?

            "Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light." --Matthew 11:28-30

Invitation to Revival

           You’re formally invited to the First Baptist Church of Allen, as we have scheduled February 16-19 as a time in which we will seek revival.  Much has been said about revivals.  Men have studied the great revivals and awakenings, trying to discern if a formula could be used to produce spiritual renewal.  Today, many still attempt different formulas to manufacture a revival, often only producing spiritual placebos.
          
            Ernest Gordon was a British soldier in World War II who was captured by the Japanese, and he was made to work with thousands of other POW’s on what was called the “Death Railroad.”  It ran along the valley of the Quai River in Thailand, conditions so awful that almost two-thousand prisoners died for every five miles of railroad built.  It got so bad, soon the prisoners were all at each other’s throats. 

Gordon writes:
            “Death was everywhere, and as conditions worsened our lives were poisoned by selfishness, hatred, and fear.  Formerly we had huddled together, believing there was safety in numbers, and still showing consideration for one another.  Now that was gone.  Existence had become so miserable, the odds so heavy against us, that nothing mattered except to survive.  We lived by the rule of the jungle, red in tooth and claw.  It was a case of, ‘I look out for myself, and to hell with everyone else.’  But one afternoon something happened.  A shovel was missing at the end of the day.  The officer in charge became enraged, demanding the missing shovel be produced or else.  When no one in the squadron had volunteered taking the shovel, the officer took out his gun and threated to shoot everyone on the spot.  Suddenly one man stepped forward.  “I took it,” he said.  The officer put away his gun, took a shovel and beat the man to death.  But at the second tool check, no shovel was missing.  The word spread like wildfire through the whole camp, ‘An innocent man had been willing to die to save everyone else.’  The incident had a huge effect.  We began to treat each other like brothers.  Another man was caught trading with the locals for medicine for a dying comrade, and was sentenced to death.  But he submitted to it, reading from a little Bible, then cheering up the chaplain right before his execution.  Death was still with us, no doubt about that.  But we were being slowly freed from its destructive grip.”

            It was sacrificial love, one man giving his life for others that changed independent survival into brotherhood.  And that was just a human being.  The Son of God gave himself for you.  Jesus Christ stepped forward and was beaten into the ground to save us from our sins.  When seeking revival, that’s the only formula that matters. 

 

            Please, I invite you join us.

 

          

Christmas for the Abandoned

I read last month about a prison inmate denied parole for the 16^th time.  He repeatedly stabbed young bartender, Kitty Genovese, in 1964 Queens, New York.  The attack made national headlines, as some 38 people heard her crying, "He's stabbing me!"  They looked down from apartment windows, watching the brutal assault of the 105-pound victim.  None risked coming down to save her.  None became vulnerable.

The Apostle John wrote, “The Word became flesh…”

In other words, the Creator joined his creation, becoming soft in the person of Christ, not only vulnerable to human frailty, but having that vulnerability exploited by friends and enemies. 

The Lord knew the pain of losing a parent, as it is appears Joseph died earlier in his life.  Christ knew the sting of criticism as his own family misunderstood him, and He knew the blunt reality of betrayal as his closest friends left him to violence. 

The best counselors aren't merely educated about pain and disappointment, but they've stood at the graveside, slept on tear-stained pillows, and given cries to their despair.  Isaiah referred to Christ as the Wonderful Counselor; one who knows your hurt by way of his own broken heart.  This is a Savior you can go to.

But you may say, “I do go to Him.  I do cry out, hoping God will hear, but He doesn’t answer my prayers.”  This gets to the heart of Christmas, for Christ experienced this as well. 

In the Garden of Gethsemane, Christ prayed for an alternative to the cross; one not subjecting him to the infinite crushing of his own heart.  He prayed with tears for that cup to pass from him.  His prayer was denied.   

Kitty Genovese’s attacker fled when lights came on in the windows above.  After a few minutes, when no one came down, he returned and stabbed her until she died. 

The Lord heard our cries and came down, vulnerable to human misery.  But the Lord’s temporal afflictions aren’t the reason we celebrate Christ’s birth, for they merely foreshadowed something more terminal.

Mark 15:34 says Jesus cried out from the cross, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Christ submitted to the ultimate and infinite affliction of divine abandonment, separated from his Father.  This He did as a substitute for all who would be believe in Him.  Faith in Christ sees his birth as the first step on a path leading to his death, receiving the divine abandonment we deserve for longing for an identity apart from Him.

Kitty Genovese must have looked toward the front of her building, expecting her neighbors to come pouring out, rushing to her defense.  The feelings of abandonment must have been overwhelming. 

To trust in Christ as our substitute is to be assured God will never abandon us, even when it feels like He has. 

 

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Heroism

The latest installment of Superman was viewed by yours truly.  A good hero movie can occupy my DVD player any night of the week and twice on Sunday.  Many have speculated as to why the hero flicks keep coming, or more succinctly why throngs of people keep paying to see them.  What is it about these often conflicted champions that arrest our attention, especially considering the usual two-dimensionality of character and plot, as very few contemporary portrayals delve very deep into original moral or existential dilemmas?

But maybe it’s not the complexity of these characters that continue to arouse the anticipation of hopeful patrons.  Perhaps it’s much simpler, like the struggle for truth, justice, and the righteous way. It seems everyone is born with some foggy notion of right and wrong, as the human heart suspects that personal sacrifice for the greater good is indeed the greatest good.

One day a neighbor knocked on the door to tell me William had wrecked his bike and needed me.  I ran down the block to see a knee skinned up good and proper.  So I picked him up and carried him a block and a half home.  I never felt more heroic.  After doctoring him up, I asked him what he said to the neighbor when he had his wreck, and he replied, “I told them to go get Mom.”  This reminded me that I may be made in God's image, therefore capable of heroic acts, yet in no real sense am I a hero.

 Blaise Pascal said,

                       “Let man now judge his own worth, let him love himself, for there is within
                       him a nature capable of good; but that is no reason for him to love the vileness
                       within himself. . . Let him both love and hate himself; he has within him the
                       capacity for knowing truth and being happy, but he possesses no truth which is
                       either abiding or satisfactory.”

Our heroic acts are less heroic when considering the darkness of our motives. I did consider it my honor to carry my mildly wounded son home, but I also couldn’t help feel a bit exalted, even justified. Like most, I have previous volumes of very un-heroic engagements as well as the regrets that come with them. Yet, the last thing I need is noble behavior that makes me feel good about myself, because any heroics I perform are only an extension of a true Hero. The Apostle Paul said in Galatians 2:20, “And I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”

Like fiction’s flawed heroes, the average person possesses the potential for noble heroics, but most recognize their own need for rescue. The insecure dream of being saved from the haunting feelings of inadequacy. The lonely hope to be liberated from the chains of solitude. The crushed spirit prays for someone to make them whole. And the sinner looks for deliverance from the coming Judgment.

The Christian Gospel proclaims the source of these needed provisions. Christ took our inadequacy upon himself, that we may know God’s acceptance; He was left alone by his Father, that we may have fellowship with God forever; He was crushed in spirit, that we may be made whole; and as Paul said in 2 Corinthians 5:21, “He made the One who did not know sin to be sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.”    

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The Cult at Westboro

Part of me hates to dignify the Westboro Cult with a blog post, but in light of the tragedy in Connecticut, the Mephistophelian fringe of Topeka has resurfaced, grinding on American consciousness. The inconsistencies between Westboro’s message and biblical Christianity are immediately evident, and much tedious effort could be given to their ill-informed use of scripture. But more fundamental errors are at work in Westboro.

The most observable trait of the group is its inflammatory speech, which by definition is designed to arouse anger and hostility. This seems to be completely antithetical to the rules of engagement exemplified by the Apostles. Paul wrote in Colossians 4:6, “Your speech should always be gracious, seasoned with salt.”

There’re generally two types of discourse on either side of controversy, seditious and conciliatory, both with different outcomes. One produces strife, the other curiosity. If Westboro had any God-ordained mission to win converts, they would heed Proverbs 16:21 which reminds us, “pleasant speech increases learning.”

But it’s not only the tenor of Westboro’s rhetoric that’s problematic, but also the content of their rant, or lack thereof. Not the faintest resemblance of the biblical gospel can be found in Westboro’s message, but rather they rail almost solely against homosexuality. They fail to communicate enough doctrine to even be accused of preaching a false gospel. As a result, there message only qualifies as the hateful raving of misguided souls, led by the Enemy himself. Truly a tragic masquerade.

Westboro is also unwilling to entertain offers of correction. Their website reportedly says, “Zero is the number of nanoseconds of sleep we lose over the opinions of others.” Being willfully unteachable is a dangerous state, even for true believers. Proverbs 19:27 says, “If you stop listening to instruction, my son, you will stray from the words of knowledge.”

So what needs to be said? Numbers 14:18 says, “The Lord is slow to anger and rich in faithful love, forgiving wrongdoing and rebellion. But He will not leave the guilty unpunished.”

Yes, God is good. He is so good, He will punish evil. If a man who breaks the law comes before a judge, and that judge fails to bring justice to bear upon the situation, he would be considered a poor judge. God is a perfect judge, and will bring perfect justice to bear upon the sin of mankind, which includes us all.

Yet, there is another dimension of God’s goodness which is displayed in His mercy. God offers the sinner forgiveness on the grounds that He himself provided a means for justice to be done. The message of Christmas is God becoming a man. This Jesus Christ lived the sinless life we should have lived, a life of perfect trust in the Father. Then He died on the cross, receiving in Himself all the Father’s wrath for our sins. Three days later, Jesus rose from the dead, displaying the sufficiency of His sacrifice to appease Divine justice, therefore validating His offer of mercy to the weary sinner.

“Therefore repent and turn back, that your sins may be wiped out so that seasons of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord,” Acts 3:19.

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