UnPresbyterian Dissent
Oct. 01, 2009; 11:42 AM Filed in: Church Life
What's
going on in Florida right now is a perfect
illustration of how little "presbyterian" we often
are in the PCA.
Dr. D. James Kennedy was the founding pastor of Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church, and was one of the most well-known names in the PCA (and elsewhere), and when he died just over two years ago, it was a loss for both the PCA and the Kingdom. Dr. Kennedy was a strong leader, and was well-known for Evangelism Explosion (an evangelism program that he developed), his outspoken participation in political debates, his media ministries, and starting Knox Seminary in Florida.
In the spring of this year, the news got out that Coral Ridge PCA was ready to call a new pastor: Tullian Tchividjian, who was at that time pastoring another church in the area. Though young at 37, Pastor Tchividjian has written several books (with another on the way), and had already begun to make quite a name for himself as pastor of New City Presbyterian Church. He also had the distinction of being the grandson of Rev. Billy Graham. New City didn't want him to go, but Coral Ridge had set their hearts on him; they finally agreed to merge the two churches so that he could do both! Everyone was excited.
That is, until some of the people at Coral Ridge realized that Pastor Tchividjian is not Dr. Kennedy. They were unhappy with his decision not to wear a robe when he preached. They weren't happy with the fact that he felt that Evangelism Explosion, while having its place, was not as effective a method as it once was; most people, he said, are still a few steps away from those questions. They also were displeased with the fact that he refused to offer strong political messages from the pulpit as Dr. Kennedy had frequently done. Once they realized these things, some were unhappy. Did they voice their concerns to their Session? Did they contact their new pastor and speak to him directly about their concerns? No-- they did none of these things.
Instead, a few-- six, to be exact-- began to circulate a letter to the congregation against the wishes of the church's leadership. In that letter, this handful of members from the 2000+ member congregation stated their case against Pastor Tchividjian, and circulated a petition calling for a congregational meeting to remove him as pastor. Eventually, they accumulated several hundred signatures (more than the 100 required by the Book of Church Order), and a congregational meeting was called. (Those six also were disciplined for their sinful stirring up of dissent, instead of handling their complaints in a biblical manner.)
The meeting that these dissenters had longed for came, and to their surprise the vote went the other way: 422 voted WITH the dissenters to remove Tchividjian as pastor; 940 voted AGAINST that action, and instead voiced their desire to see him remain as their pastor. Incidentally, 100% of the church's officers voted with the majority to keep Tchividjian as Pastor.
How did these dissenters respond? They had taken full advantage of presbyterian polity to force a meeting and vote, hoping to get their way. Would they behave like true presbyterians, and accept the decision of the majority without further complaint?
No-- in fact, they revealed that they are not very presbyterian after all. They left immediately, and the following weekend held services for a new church-- with 400+ people in attendance, 501(c)(3) status already applied for, and talks of property hunts already underway. One of the leaders of the group said, "what happens next depends on what denomination contacts us."
I grieve this sort of unbiblical dissent, but as much as that I also grieve this sort of easy abandonment of presbyterianism. Whatever this group becomes, I hope they can recognize that they aren't presbyterian in any functional way-- because presbyterianism is fundamentally based on the idea that I'm as likely as not to be mistaken or even sinful in my decision-making alone, and that the larger body usually has greater wisdom and discernment than I do individually.
Dr. D. James Kennedy was the founding pastor of Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church, and was one of the most well-known names in the PCA (and elsewhere), and when he died just over two years ago, it was a loss for both the PCA and the Kingdom. Dr. Kennedy was a strong leader, and was well-known for Evangelism Explosion (an evangelism program that he developed), his outspoken participation in political debates, his media ministries, and starting Knox Seminary in Florida.
In the spring of this year, the news got out that Coral Ridge PCA was ready to call a new pastor: Tullian Tchividjian, who was at that time pastoring another church in the area. Though young at 37, Pastor Tchividjian has written several books (with another on the way), and had already begun to make quite a name for himself as pastor of New City Presbyterian Church. He also had the distinction of being the grandson of Rev. Billy Graham. New City didn't want him to go, but Coral Ridge had set their hearts on him; they finally agreed to merge the two churches so that he could do both! Everyone was excited.
That is, until some of the people at Coral Ridge realized that Pastor Tchividjian is not Dr. Kennedy. They were unhappy with his decision not to wear a robe when he preached. They weren't happy with the fact that he felt that Evangelism Explosion, while having its place, was not as effective a method as it once was; most people, he said, are still a few steps away from those questions. They also were displeased with the fact that he refused to offer strong political messages from the pulpit as Dr. Kennedy had frequently done. Once they realized these things, some were unhappy. Did they voice their concerns to their Session? Did they contact their new pastor and speak to him directly about their concerns? No-- they did none of these things.
Instead, a few-- six, to be exact-- began to circulate a letter to the congregation against the wishes of the church's leadership. In that letter, this handful of members from the 2000+ member congregation stated their case against Pastor Tchividjian, and circulated a petition calling for a congregational meeting to remove him as pastor. Eventually, they accumulated several hundred signatures (more than the 100 required by the Book of Church Order), and a congregational meeting was called. (Those six also were disciplined for their sinful stirring up of dissent, instead of handling their complaints in a biblical manner.)
The meeting that these dissenters had longed for came, and to their surprise the vote went the other way: 422 voted WITH the dissenters to remove Tchividjian as pastor; 940 voted AGAINST that action, and instead voiced their desire to see him remain as their pastor. Incidentally, 100% of the church's officers voted with the majority to keep Tchividjian as Pastor.
How did these dissenters respond? They had taken full advantage of presbyterian polity to force a meeting and vote, hoping to get their way. Would they behave like true presbyterians, and accept the decision of the majority without further complaint?
No-- in fact, they revealed that they are not very presbyterian after all. They left immediately, and the following weekend held services for a new church-- with 400+ people in attendance, 501(c)(3) status already applied for, and talks of property hunts already underway. One of the leaders of the group said, "what happens next depends on what denomination contacts us."
I grieve this sort of unbiblical dissent, but as much as that I also grieve this sort of easy abandonment of presbyterianism. Whatever this group becomes, I hope they can recognize that they aren't presbyterian in any functional way-- because presbyterianism is fundamentally based on the idea that I'm as likely as not to be mistaken or even sinful in my decision-making alone, and that the larger body usually has greater wisdom and discernment than I do individually.
|
Remembering 9/11
Sep. 11, 2009; 02:42 PM Filed in: Culture
The
8th anniversary of the September 11,
2001 terrorist attacks is upon us. There may be a
thousand other things now competing for your
attention; there certainly are mine. But I wanted to
take a moment anyway to remember and grieve, and to
encourage you to do so.
I remember...
A number of things have come to pass since then...
Still, it is worth remembering the events themselves. Remember the brokenness, beloved, that we might mourn with those who still mourn, and cry with those who still cry. That we might continue to struggle together against the brokenness, and yearn together for redemption and reconciliation. Remember, that we might together long for the soon return of Christ and meet that day in which he will wipe away every tear, and there will be no more mourning.
In case you have forgotten, here is a reminder:
I remember...
- Hearing about what was happening on the radio, having just dropped Marcie off at work and while on the way to the seminary campus.
- Finding my friend Bryan and the two of us immediately hitting the internet to try to learn what was happening.
- Realizing with relief that no one I knew well, personally, was a direct victim of these attacks-- but also that more other people than not were in the other position, having lost someone to the attacks.
- Everyone I knew walking around in a sort of daze for weeks, with no sense of humor or levity seeming appropriate.
- Finally beginning to feel some sense of healing, after Bryan Chapell preached THIS sermon in chapel.
- Many of my friends responding with anger, with a sense of vengeance in their hearts.
- One friend eventually feeling led to obtain a handgun and a concealed-carry permit, so that he might take responsibility to stop others who might perpetuate hate and violence.
- My heart, on the other hand, being wrung with grief not only for the victims, but for those who committed such acts and organized or called for them; and finding, not vengeance or even outright cold justice, but redemption as the greatest hope that I might have for them.
A number of things have come to pass since then...
- I had a son just over a year after (on 9/13/2002), and the memories are more filled with joy now than shock and grief.
- As a culture we've forgotten the unity that was brought about by those events, and have become more fractured than at any time recent memory can recall.
- Many have continued to be wracked with grief and sadness, unable to overcome the horror of that day.
- Even within a few years, however, my students at the school where I taught in seminary did not have much memory, if any, of the events of that day.
- This driving desire in me for redemption and hope of reconciliation that arose in response to these events eventually brought me to where I am today, where I am much closer to being a pacifist than anyone else that I know, and I find myself deeply committed to non-violent solutions.
Still, it is worth remembering the events themselves. Remember the brokenness, beloved, that we might mourn with those who still mourn, and cry with those who still cry. That we might continue to struggle together against the brokenness, and yearn together for redemption and reconciliation. Remember, that we might together long for the soon return of Christ and meet that day in which he will wipe away every tear, and there will be no more mourning.
In case you have forgotten, here is a reminder:
Truly Pro-Life... or just Anti-Abortion?
Jun. 02, 2009; 02:07 PM Filed in: Church Life
| Culture
The murder of Dr. George
Tiller over the weekend was an act of
sin and a tragedy. Regardless of Dr. Tiller’s
choices and actions-- regardless of his sins-- a
single individual taking his life was the laying
of claim to something that individual had no right
to claim. In that lone act, the murderer
completely undermined the very cause he is
believed to have acted on behalf of (or at least
attempted to): the Pro-Life Movement.
According to the Washington Post, the suspect, Scott Roeder, had alleged ties to the violent group Operation Rescue, admired the Army of God’s “Defensive Action Statement” and was, by all appearances, a ticking time-bomb for something like this to happen:
If this sort of language doesn’t frighten you, I’m not sure what would. And if Dr. Tiller’s murder doesn’t appall you, then I would challenge you: is your “Pro-Life” position a matter of conviction, or one of convenience?
Christians have no grounds for taking such action; quite the contrary. Albert Mohler stated it clearly and well:
Misunderstanding what it really means to be “Pro-Life” leads us here, to this place, where those who claim to be acting on behalf of God and who coldly and confidently take the lives of others are regarded as the consistent ones.
Mr. Roeder claims to be acting on his Pro-Life convictions in murdering Dr. Tiller; yet, the leading Pro-Life organizations uniformly have denounced Mr. Roeder’s actions (ref: American Life League, National Right to Life, Americans United for Life). Indeed, so are major leaders in the church, like Dr. Mohler.
And yet, the mainstream media concludes that this is damning evidence of our inconsistency:
The problem is that 99% of what comes out of the church as “Pro-Life” statements is really simply “Anti-Abortion” noise. Most Christians don’t really know what it means to be Pro-Life in a consistent, worldview-driven way.
This is why church-goers are more supportive of torture than non-church-goers.
This is why so many Christians who heard about Dr. Tiller’s murder released a sigh of relief instead of a groan of grief.
Beloved, we MUST take up the reconsideration of what the idea of “LIFE” in our alleged “Pro-Life” position means. Ask yourself if being “Pro-Life” has anything to do with your views on any of the following topics:
Don’t feel too bad; very few Christians in our culture have even begun to think about this, let alone come to any conclusions. But when the conclusions come, it almost always looks like something completely different from the actions taken by Scott Roeder. But think about what it would look like if much-- or even most-- of the church learned this sort of consistency? It would transform our culture.
Otherwise, we’re stuck with what we have today. And that’s a sad state of affairs.
More on Tiller, Roeder, and this issue:
According to the Washington Post, the suspect, Scott Roeder, had alleged ties to the violent group Operation Rescue, admired the Army of God’s “Defensive Action Statement” and was, by all appearances, a ticking time-bomb for something like this to happen:
Fellow abortion opponents described Roeder as a foot soldier convinced that killing an abortion doctor is not a crime because it saves the lives of unborn children. In a 2007 Internet posting, a person identifying himself as "Scott Roeder" said Tiller is "the concentration camp 'Mengele' of our day and needs to be stopped."
If this sort of language doesn’t frighten you, I’m not sure what would. And if Dr. Tiller’s murder doesn’t appall you, then I would challenge you: is your “Pro-Life” position a matter of conviction, or one of convenience?
Christians have no grounds for taking such action; quite the contrary. Albert Mohler stated it clearly and well:
In the case of Dr. George Tiller, the governing authorities failed again and again to fulfill their responsibility to protect all citizens, including those yet unborn. The law is dishonoring to God in its disrespect for human life. The law failed to bring George Tiller to account for what should have been seen as crimes against humanity. But this failure does not authorize others to act in the place of the government, much less in the place of God. The government must now act to prosecute and punish the murderer of Dr. George Tiller.
Misunderstanding what it really means to be “Pro-Life” leads us here, to this place, where those who claim to be acting on behalf of God and who coldly and confidently take the lives of others are regarded as the consistent ones.
Mr. Roeder claims to be acting on his Pro-Life convictions in murdering Dr. Tiller; yet, the leading Pro-Life organizations uniformly have denounced Mr. Roeder’s actions (ref: American Life League, National Right to Life, Americans United for Life). Indeed, so are major leaders in the church, like Dr. Mohler.
And yet, the mainstream media concludes that this is damning evidence of our inconsistency:
[These denunciations] don't square with what these organizations purport to espouse: a strict moral equation between the unborn and the born. If a doctor in Kansas were butchering hundreds of old or disabled people, and legal authorities failed to intervene, I doubt most members of the National Right to Life Committee would stand by waiting for "educational and legislative activities" to stop him. Somebody would use force.The reason these pro-life groups have held their fire, both rhetorically and literally, is that they don't really equate fetuses with old or disabled people. They oppose abortion, as most of us do. But they don't treat abortionists the way they'd treat mass murderers of the old or disabled. And this self-restraint can't simply be chalked up to nonviolence or respect for the law. Look up the bills these organizations have written, pushed, or passed to restrict abortions. I challenge you to find a single bill that treats a woman who procures an abortion as a murderer. They don't even propose that she go to jail. [Slate magazine: http://www.slate.com/id/2219537/?from=rss]
The problem is that 99% of what comes out of the church as “Pro-Life” statements is really simply “Anti-Abortion” noise. Most Christians don’t really know what it means to be Pro-Life in a consistent, worldview-driven way.
This is why church-goers are more supportive of torture than non-church-goers.
This is why so many Christians who heard about Dr. Tiller’s murder released a sigh of relief instead of a groan of grief.
Beloved, we MUST take up the reconsideration of what the idea of “LIFE” in our alleged “Pro-Life” position means. Ask yourself if being “Pro-Life” has anything to do with your views on any of the following topics:
- Welfare
- Government-supported healthcare for the poor
- Infertility treatments
- The death penalty
- Care for unwed/teenage mothers
- Domestic violence
- War and peace
- Care for the elderly
- Use of contraception
- Treatment of prisoners (domestic and foreign)
- Pre-marital sex
- Love and dignity for neighbor
- Criminal justice
Don’t feel too bad; very few Christians in our culture have even begun to think about this, let alone come to any conclusions. But when the conclusions come, it almost always looks like something completely different from the actions taken by Scott Roeder. But think about what it would look like if much-- or even most-- of the church learned this sort of consistency? It would transform our culture.
Otherwise, we’re stuck with what we have today. And that’s a sad state of affairs.
More on Tiller, Roeder, and this issue:
- From Ignatius Press: Suspect arrested in Tiller slaying
- From Robert P. George: Gravely Wicked
- From the Center for Lutheran Theology and Public Life: Killing the Killer Was a Blow to Pro-Lifers
- From James Grant: Vengeance Is Not in Our Hands
- From William Saletan, The NY Times: This Is the Way the Culture Wars End
Prayer 7: a primer on fasting
Mar. 20, 2009; 09:05 AM Filed in: Church Life
Our Session has
determined that we will have a congregational day of
fasting for all who feel led to participate, on March
28th.
I wanted to take an opportunity to answer some
questions and offer some guidance about this.
Why do we fast? This basic question occurs to all of us at some point. A writer named Scot McKnight defines fasting as, “a whole-body response to a grievous sacred moment.” This definition helps us understand why we fast: we are responding to something that is spiritual enough, and grievous enough, to merit such a response. We are spiritual beings, and often respond to grievous occasions in a spiritual way (prayer, for example); but we are also physical, body-dwelling creatures, and we can and should respond with our bodies as well.
On this occasion, the Session has recognized that there have been many “grievous sacred moments” over the past several years, some of which still linger in the hearts and minds of our members. We want to respond appropriately, with fasting and prayers for repentance (both personal repentance and congregation-wide repentance) and forgiveness.
Some may ask, “Should I participate?” The answer is, yes— if you believe that you should. Fasting is something that some people incorporate into their spiritual lives on a regular basis— even weekly for some. Others seldom, if ever, fast. If you have never fasted— or if it has been a long time since you did so— you might try it, keeping an open mind. You may find that it is a practice you would like to continue.
There are some people who should NOT fast because of health or medical reasons; if you aren’t sure about this, it might be worthwhile to call your doctor before you decide to fast. Some will find that fasting can become something they approach in a legalistic way, and these people should be careful about whether they should fast, and what their motives are for fasting. No one should feel compelled to fast if they don’t feel led to, nor should they feel judged by others if they choose not to fast.
What is involved in a fast? Strictly speaking, a fast is giving up all food for a period of time. Some people do what is called a “liquid fast” which means that they do not eat solid foods, but they still allow themselves liquids such as juices and other drinks. Another type of fast is called an “absolute fast” which is when the one fasting gives up all food and drink for the duration of the fast. In most cases, a fast involves no solid foods and no drinks but water.
Sometimes people will speak of giving up certain foods for a time— during Lent, for example. This is not technically a fast, but an “abstention,” as they are simply abstaining from certain foods. This can be a good exercise, too, in a similar way to fasting. Some who are not able to fast due to medical need might find that they can participate in a group or congregational fast by abstention.
A natural question is, “How long will we fast?” In this case, the Session has called for a “half-day” fast to start on the 28th. What that means is that we ask those who participate to fast from after lunchtime on Saturday until a congregation-wide breakfast on Sunday. We aren’t asking you to give up ALL meals on Saturday! Eat breakfast and lunch, then eat nothing more until breakfast the next morning, at the church, at 10:00am (instead of Sunday School).
Someone asked me, “What do I do during the fast?” This, like fasting itself, is largely up to your conscience. However, I am glad to offer some suggestions. You might spend the time you would normally take for meals in prayer, reading the Bible, or singing hymns. You may decide to calculate what you would normally spend on those meals and snacks and give that amount of money to the Deacons’ Fund at HWPC, or to a charitable cause.
In this case, because the Session has called for both fasting AND prayer about a specific topic— repentance for our personal and corporate sins— you should spend some extra time in prayer. One “cue” that I have used in the past is that, whenever my stomach growls or I feel a hunger pang, I take that as a prompting to pray. You should pray in your own way, and as you feel led to do so.
Jesus tells of how we should NOT spend our times of fasting: flaunting it before the world. When we fast, he says, we should not do it like the hypocrites, making a big deal about it and drawing attention to ourselves (Matt. 6). Thus, if you choose to participate in this fast (and/or to fast at other times), you should be cautious that you don’t do so hypocritically or in a manner that draws attention to your fasting.
Finally, we understandably ask, “What does fasting DO?” Sometimes we feel we must “get something out of” an exercise like fasting. And truthfully, God does, at times, bless our fasting with a response of granting us something— He will answer our prayers in the manner that we asked for, or will begin (or continue) a work in our midst that represents a blessing. But (like prayer and so many other spiritual activities) we must be careful not to approach fasting with wrong motives, or to view it as some sort of special tool that will help us to get our way with God. Fasting is not a spiritual crow-bar for leveraging our desires into the will of God.
Going back to McKnight’s definition of fasting: what fasting does is to serve as an appropriate response. We don’t fast to get something; we fast to be something— or someone: specifically, a child of God. When we are grieved by our sin, by the lack of repentance in our hearts, by our neglect of the poor, by a tragedy or loss, or by any of a number of other reasons why we might be grieved, fasting is a natural and proper response for the children of God. If we get anything from it— if fasting DOES anything in these moments— then the most important thing it does is to help us to draw closer to the God who we call Father.
I hope you will search your hearts and pray about whether you would participate in the day of fasting that we have scheduled. May the Lord be with you as you do.
Why do we fast? This basic question occurs to all of us at some point. A writer named Scot McKnight defines fasting as, “a whole-body response to a grievous sacred moment.” This definition helps us understand why we fast: we are responding to something that is spiritual enough, and grievous enough, to merit such a response. We are spiritual beings, and often respond to grievous occasions in a spiritual way (prayer, for example); but we are also physical, body-dwelling creatures, and we can and should respond with our bodies as well.
On this occasion, the Session has recognized that there have been many “grievous sacred moments” over the past several years, some of which still linger in the hearts and minds of our members. We want to respond appropriately, with fasting and prayers for repentance (both personal repentance and congregation-wide repentance) and forgiveness.
Some may ask, “Should I participate?” The answer is, yes— if you believe that you should. Fasting is something that some people incorporate into their spiritual lives on a regular basis— even weekly for some. Others seldom, if ever, fast. If you have never fasted— or if it has been a long time since you did so— you might try it, keeping an open mind. You may find that it is a practice you would like to continue.
There are some people who should NOT fast because of health or medical reasons; if you aren’t sure about this, it might be worthwhile to call your doctor before you decide to fast. Some will find that fasting can become something they approach in a legalistic way, and these people should be careful about whether they should fast, and what their motives are for fasting. No one should feel compelled to fast if they don’t feel led to, nor should they feel judged by others if they choose not to fast.
What is involved in a fast? Strictly speaking, a fast is giving up all food for a period of time. Some people do what is called a “liquid fast” which means that they do not eat solid foods, but they still allow themselves liquids such as juices and other drinks. Another type of fast is called an “absolute fast” which is when the one fasting gives up all food and drink for the duration of the fast. In most cases, a fast involves no solid foods and no drinks but water.
Sometimes people will speak of giving up certain foods for a time— during Lent, for example. This is not technically a fast, but an “abstention,” as they are simply abstaining from certain foods. This can be a good exercise, too, in a similar way to fasting. Some who are not able to fast due to medical need might find that they can participate in a group or congregational fast by abstention.
A natural question is, “How long will we fast?” In this case, the Session has called for a “half-day” fast to start on the 28th. What that means is that we ask those who participate to fast from after lunchtime on Saturday until a congregation-wide breakfast on Sunday. We aren’t asking you to give up ALL meals on Saturday! Eat breakfast and lunch, then eat nothing more until breakfast the next morning, at the church, at 10:00am (instead of Sunday School).
Someone asked me, “What do I do during the fast?” This, like fasting itself, is largely up to your conscience. However, I am glad to offer some suggestions. You might spend the time you would normally take for meals in prayer, reading the Bible, or singing hymns. You may decide to calculate what you would normally spend on those meals and snacks and give that amount of money to the Deacons’ Fund at HWPC, or to a charitable cause.
In this case, because the Session has called for both fasting AND prayer about a specific topic— repentance for our personal and corporate sins— you should spend some extra time in prayer. One “cue” that I have used in the past is that, whenever my stomach growls or I feel a hunger pang, I take that as a prompting to pray. You should pray in your own way, and as you feel led to do so.
Jesus tells of how we should NOT spend our times of fasting: flaunting it before the world. When we fast, he says, we should not do it like the hypocrites, making a big deal about it and drawing attention to ourselves (Matt. 6). Thus, if you choose to participate in this fast (and/or to fast at other times), you should be cautious that you don’t do so hypocritically or in a manner that draws attention to your fasting.
Finally, we understandably ask, “What does fasting DO?” Sometimes we feel we must “get something out of” an exercise like fasting. And truthfully, God does, at times, bless our fasting with a response of granting us something— He will answer our prayers in the manner that we asked for, or will begin (or continue) a work in our midst that represents a blessing. But (like prayer and so many other spiritual activities) we must be careful not to approach fasting with wrong motives, or to view it as some sort of special tool that will help us to get our way with God. Fasting is not a spiritual crow-bar for leveraging our desires into the will of God.
Going back to McKnight’s definition of fasting: what fasting does is to serve as an appropriate response. We don’t fast to get something; we fast to be something— or someone: specifically, a child of God. When we are grieved by our sin, by the lack of repentance in our hearts, by our neglect of the poor, by a tragedy or loss, or by any of a number of other reasons why we might be grieved, fasting is a natural and proper response for the children of God. If we get anything from it— if fasting DOES anything in these moments— then the most important thing it does is to help us to draw closer to the God who we call Father.
I hope you will search your hearts and pray about whether you would participate in the day of fasting that we have scheduled. May the Lord be with you as you do.
On counseling and medication
An interesting
discussion on counseling and medication
over at another blog
raised a good point
that I’ve often found is a stumbling block to
Christians. David Powlison, quoting the Director
of the National Institute on Mental Health, said:
This is something that is apparently difficult to understand for those who have not had immediate contact with the effects of this kind of medication (known as “psychotropic” medication).
I once had a student whose comment revealed that even those who HAVE had contact sometimes misunderstand. She said in an off-hand manner, “I’ve taken anti-depressants. They make you happy!”
The truth is, they don’t. They might help you to be normal (in a chemical sense), but they don’t make you “happy.” My concern deepened as I counseled this student about this, because she had faced mild-to-moderate depression for so long that she had come to assume that her depressed state was “normal”-- thus, having that edge of depression taken off was “happy” feeling to her.
Here’s my best analogy of what psychotropic drugs offer: Suppose you love running, and have your heart dead-set on running a marathon in a year. In preparation for a training regimen, you visit your doctor, who informs you that the slight pain in your knee is actually a problem that needs to be addressed surgically; in short, if you don’t have your knee scoped, you won’t be able to train for the marathon, let alone complete it.
Here’s the analogy: if you have your knee scoped, is that going to make you ready for the marathon? No. You’ll still have a lot of work to do to condition your body (and your mind) for running the marathon. But if you don’t have your knee scoped, you are guaranteed that you won’t be able to run the marathon.
So it is with psychotropic medication: they won’t overcome your depression for you, but they might address the physical/physiological obstacles that would keep you from being able to do the work of overcoming depression. (Likewise with anxiety and other clinical mental health issues.)
Psychiatric medications can sometimes take the edge off symptoms, but they can't give people what they really need. People need meaning and relationships. Psychiatry can't give that. Medication can't give that.
This is something that is apparently difficult to understand for those who have not had immediate contact with the effects of this kind of medication (known as “psychotropic” medication).
I once had a student whose comment revealed that even those who HAVE had contact sometimes misunderstand. She said in an off-hand manner, “I’ve taken anti-depressants. They make you happy!”
The truth is, they don’t. They might help you to be normal (in a chemical sense), but they don’t make you “happy.” My concern deepened as I counseled this student about this, because she had faced mild-to-moderate depression for so long that she had come to assume that her depressed state was “normal”-- thus, having that edge of depression taken off was “happy” feeling to her.
Here’s my best analogy of what psychotropic drugs offer: Suppose you love running, and have your heart dead-set on running a marathon in a year. In preparation for a training regimen, you visit your doctor, who informs you that the slight pain in your knee is actually a problem that needs to be addressed surgically; in short, if you don’t have your knee scoped, you won’t be able to train for the marathon, let alone complete it.
Here’s the analogy: if you have your knee scoped, is that going to make you ready for the marathon? No. You’ll still have a lot of work to do to condition your body (and your mind) for running the marathon. But if you don’t have your knee scoped, you are guaranteed that you won’t be able to run the marathon.
So it is with psychotropic medication: they won’t overcome your depression for you, but they might address the physical/physiological obstacles that would keep you from being able to do the work of overcoming depression. (Likewise with anxiety and other clinical mental health issues.)
Tragedy and loss
Aug. 15, 2008; 08:10 AM Filed in: Ministry
| Church Life
I’ve
recently read two posts from bloggers who, somehow,
have managed to candidly capture in their posts the
shock, the depth of pain, the sense of loss that they
have experienced.
Amazingly, both of these writers appear to have written their words even during their experiences. Their words are as beautiful as they are tragic, in part because they are so vulnerable and exposed in them. They are also beautiful because they seem to be inviting others-- not to share their pain, but to understand it.
So many Christians I have known are afraid of pain, many because they have been so sheltered from it. But our world is full of pain, and it is quite likely that more than half of the people you encounter today are facing suffering of some sort. What would you do if you knew of it? How would you come alongside them in their pain? As one friend (who pointed me to one of these posts) wrote, “I am currently working on a doctorate in biblical studies... a Ph.D. does not address this.”
I think the heart of these two ladies is right: to come alongside them, we must understand their pain. We don’t have to share it-- I think many who are the midst of suffering feel strongly that the only way others can understand IS to share it, but I disagree-- but we must understand it. I’m grateful for the vulnerability of these two who, in the moment of their suffering and pain, invite you and me to have a glimpse of what pain looks like, that we might understand.
I invite you to read the stories of:
Rae (AKA SmockLady) who faced her first miscarriage
Denny (AKA Songstress) who lost her husband at age 33
Amazingly, both of these writers appear to have written their words even during their experiences. Their words are as beautiful as they are tragic, in part because they are so vulnerable and exposed in them. They are also beautiful because they seem to be inviting others-- not to share their pain, but to understand it.
So many Christians I have known are afraid of pain, many because they have been so sheltered from it. But our world is full of pain, and it is quite likely that more than half of the people you encounter today are facing suffering of some sort. What would you do if you knew of it? How would you come alongside them in their pain? As one friend (who pointed me to one of these posts) wrote, “I am currently working on a doctorate in biblical studies... a Ph.D. does not address this.”
I think the heart of these two ladies is right: to come alongside them, we must understand their pain. We don’t have to share it-- I think many who are the midst of suffering feel strongly that the only way others can understand IS to share it, but I disagree-- but we must understand it. I’m grateful for the vulnerability of these two who, in the moment of their suffering and pain, invite you and me to have a glimpse of what pain looks like, that we might understand.
I invite you to read the stories of:
Rae (AKA SmockLady) who faced her first miscarriage
Denny (AKA Songstress) who lost her husband at age 33