Not On Our Own
Commentary
My guess is that we’ve all got a favorite book about Lincoln. The list is endless, of course. One of the ones I found most helpful, at least in terms of understanding depression, is Lincoln’s Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness, by Joshua Wolf Shenk. The book, published in 2005, was written to explore how Lincoln conquered his depression and became one of our greatest presidents. What Shenk discovered, however, was that Lincoln never conquered his depression. He lived with it, learned coping skills that worked for him, and became one of our greatest presidents anyway.
Among the things Lincoln learned about himself is that he functioned better with people. His storytelling skills, his sharp sense of humor, and his willingness to talk with anyone and everyone helped him get through bouts of depression. Whether spending time in the telegraph room with its operator or joining crowds of people when he would rather sit alone with his melancholy, he used the strategies that worked for him to manage his medical problem.
This week’s scriptures focus on our need to be with each other, and they deal, in one way or another, with the fact we need the company of others, whether we know it or not, whether we struggle with depression or other medical conditions involving our mental health.
At the height of his great triumph over the priests of Baal, the prophet Elijah is sent into a tailspin because of Jezebel’s opposition. God sees to it that Elijah is fed, nurtured, and is heard before reminding him that he is not alone, but that there are thousands of others who have not bent their knee to the Baals. Elijah is also given tasks that contribute to a solid future. He is to anoint a new king and a new prophet.
Some suggest that the demoniac, who self-identifies as Legion, is a cashiered soldier from the Roman army, who has seen too much and done too much, leaving him unable to live with the inner demons that plague him with PTSD. Jesus frees him from those demons, but the possibility that the demoniac may be restored to his community causes a great deal of concern. Instead of rejoicing, the community is more comfortable with the uncomfortably afflicted outside their town and not reintegrated into their lives. They are not ready to do the work that falls to the community of faith to include, rather than to box such people off.
1 Kings 19:1-4, (5-7) 8-15a, Psalm 42 and 43
It’s hard to imagine a greater triumph than Elijah experienced against the priests of Baal. After hiding out for a couple of years, he directly confronts King Ahab and the prophets of Baal with a public competition that can leave no doubt about whose God is real. God lights Elijah’s fire on his altar, even though it has been soaked with water, while the priests of Baal drench the wood at their alters with oil, dance frenetically, self-mutilating themselves to get their god’s attention, and are finally destroyed by Elijah in a great show of strength and vindication.
However, though King Ahab is defeated (temporarily), Queen Jezebel is having none of it and her determination to kill Elijah, despite God’s public vindication, sends him into a tailspin. He flees. I think it’s interesting that instead of sending him back, God sends him further on this part of his spiritual journey, feeding him twice upon the way. God then listens to Elijah’s lament, his fears, and his feeling of abandonment. And God’s comfort is found not in the wind, or the earthquake, or the fire, but in the still, small voice.
Only now, having been heard, is Elijah able to himself hear. He is not alone. There are seven thousand others who have not bent their knee to the Baals. And he is given tasks that cement the future and make him a part of it. He anoints a new king and commissions a new prophet.
Psalm 42 and 43, a single psalm split in two pieces at some point in the past, has an interesting ebb and flow. There are memories of wonderful processions, surging confidence, and a return to the psalmist questioning why he is so low emotionally. For those of us who struggle with depression, this is a common experience. We take comfort in memory, but we struggle in the present. We are reminded we are not alone, but we ask again and again, “Why are we so cast down?” At times it is as if we are drowning (deep calls to deep), as if we will never feel a part of God’s community in the holy temple. Why has God forgotten us? Yet we celebrate once again our history with God.
We feel as if we are drowning in the throes of depression, but others may ask us what’s wrong with us since there is every reason in this processional to Mt. Zion to be happy. This is a constant back and forth struggle. One problem is that some Christians try to convince us that depression is spiritual weakness instead of a medical problem. It is precisely because we can’t pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, we need hope.
Galatians 3:23-29
This is a very rich passage, of course, and I don’t wish to limit your exploration. Still, I want to throw a few things out there. For instance, Paul uses the image of the pedagogue, the slave who was a teacher and for a time treated the child like a slave, reproving as well as teaching, and occasionally giving the child a beating. Such a figure was lampooned in the classic comedies of the day. That is the image that Paul is equating to the way he used to interpret the law. (Keep in mind that Paul always revered and continued to honor the law, but now his interpretive filter was Jesus, rather than the training he had received as a child).
But if you cast a wider net, you’ll certainly find passages in which Paul seems to be struggling with his own inner demons, lamenting that he does the thing he wouldn’t, defending himself a little too ardently as if he were the subject of criticism from others as well as himself. In the conclusion to this lectionary reading, Paul is certainly not negating our identity as women and men, as members with different ethnic heritages, religious backgrounds, and nationalities. Part of Paul’s ministry was to support the right of those who came from differing backgrounds, like the Graeco-Roman world, or the Celtic world in the case of the Galats (the Latin word for Celt) to worship through the lens of that background. But he is also recognizing we belong to a larger, inclusive identity in Jesus Christ. We are part of something greater than ourselves that includes who we are as individuals. Sadly, Paul could not liberate someone who was a slave, but as we could see in his letter to Philemon, he could attempt in Christ to change the status and relationship of a person. Individuals whose depression or other conditions contributes to the quality of their mental health require medical and emotional help, and the greatest thing the church can do is be inclusive, accepting people as we are as we work together to become new creations in Christ.
Luke 8:26-39
Some suggest that the demoniac, who self-identifies as Legion, is a cashiered soldier from the Roman army, who has seen too much and done too much, leaving him unable to live with the inner demons that plague him with PTSD. He is homeless, like so many veterans, unclothed and having no possessions, and unable to function in the society. The fact that the shepherds watch over a flock of pigs, an unclean animal in the Judean parts of this territory, highlights the fact that Jesus is in the Gentile world and facing someone who may well have been damaged by his experiences of brutality and havoc, including the crucifying of untold numbers of victims.
Jesus has just demonstrated his power over the waters in the scene that preceded this one. At the beginning of Genesis, the Spirit of God moves over the abyss of the deep and displays the same mastery over the waters, confronting the gods of chaos, tohu and bohu, translated “formless” and “void.” The legion of demons plaguing this person are afraid of the abyss, the waters, but ironically their plea to be sent into the herd of pigs is futile because the pigs cast themselves, lemming-like, into the lake and are drowned.
This, of course, causes great economic damage to the community, and as Luke makes clear, all of the people in the surrounding area, instead of praising Jesus and holding a parade in his honor, beg him to leave. Instead of rejoicing, the community is more comfortable with the uncomfortably afflicted living miserably outside of town and not reintegrated into their lives. They are not ready to do the work that falls to the community of faith to include rather than to box such people off. There is a price after all – a price all of society needs to be ready to pay – to reintegrate, include, and restore those struggling with depression, those who are working towards mental health.
How sensitive, how inclusive, how patient, is your congregation in this matter?
Among the things Lincoln learned about himself is that he functioned better with people. His storytelling skills, his sharp sense of humor, and his willingness to talk with anyone and everyone helped him get through bouts of depression. Whether spending time in the telegraph room with its operator or joining crowds of people when he would rather sit alone with his melancholy, he used the strategies that worked for him to manage his medical problem.
This week’s scriptures focus on our need to be with each other, and they deal, in one way or another, with the fact we need the company of others, whether we know it or not, whether we struggle with depression or other medical conditions involving our mental health.
At the height of his great triumph over the priests of Baal, the prophet Elijah is sent into a tailspin because of Jezebel’s opposition. God sees to it that Elijah is fed, nurtured, and is heard before reminding him that he is not alone, but that there are thousands of others who have not bent their knee to the Baals. Elijah is also given tasks that contribute to a solid future. He is to anoint a new king and a new prophet.
Some suggest that the demoniac, who self-identifies as Legion, is a cashiered soldier from the Roman army, who has seen too much and done too much, leaving him unable to live with the inner demons that plague him with PTSD. Jesus frees him from those demons, but the possibility that the demoniac may be restored to his community causes a great deal of concern. Instead of rejoicing, the community is more comfortable with the uncomfortably afflicted outside their town and not reintegrated into their lives. They are not ready to do the work that falls to the community of faith to include, rather than to box such people off.
1 Kings 19:1-4, (5-7) 8-15a, Psalm 42 and 43
It’s hard to imagine a greater triumph than Elijah experienced against the priests of Baal. After hiding out for a couple of years, he directly confronts King Ahab and the prophets of Baal with a public competition that can leave no doubt about whose God is real. God lights Elijah’s fire on his altar, even though it has been soaked with water, while the priests of Baal drench the wood at their alters with oil, dance frenetically, self-mutilating themselves to get their god’s attention, and are finally destroyed by Elijah in a great show of strength and vindication.
However, though King Ahab is defeated (temporarily), Queen Jezebel is having none of it and her determination to kill Elijah, despite God’s public vindication, sends him into a tailspin. He flees. I think it’s interesting that instead of sending him back, God sends him further on this part of his spiritual journey, feeding him twice upon the way. God then listens to Elijah’s lament, his fears, and his feeling of abandonment. And God’s comfort is found not in the wind, or the earthquake, or the fire, but in the still, small voice.
Only now, having been heard, is Elijah able to himself hear. He is not alone. There are seven thousand others who have not bent their knee to the Baals. And he is given tasks that cement the future and make him a part of it. He anoints a new king and commissions a new prophet.
Psalm 42 and 43, a single psalm split in two pieces at some point in the past, has an interesting ebb and flow. There are memories of wonderful processions, surging confidence, and a return to the psalmist questioning why he is so low emotionally. For those of us who struggle with depression, this is a common experience. We take comfort in memory, but we struggle in the present. We are reminded we are not alone, but we ask again and again, “Why are we so cast down?” At times it is as if we are drowning (deep calls to deep), as if we will never feel a part of God’s community in the holy temple. Why has God forgotten us? Yet we celebrate once again our history with God.
We feel as if we are drowning in the throes of depression, but others may ask us what’s wrong with us since there is every reason in this processional to Mt. Zion to be happy. This is a constant back and forth struggle. One problem is that some Christians try to convince us that depression is spiritual weakness instead of a medical problem. It is precisely because we can’t pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, we need hope.
Galatians 3:23-29
This is a very rich passage, of course, and I don’t wish to limit your exploration. Still, I want to throw a few things out there. For instance, Paul uses the image of the pedagogue, the slave who was a teacher and for a time treated the child like a slave, reproving as well as teaching, and occasionally giving the child a beating. Such a figure was lampooned in the classic comedies of the day. That is the image that Paul is equating to the way he used to interpret the law. (Keep in mind that Paul always revered and continued to honor the law, but now his interpretive filter was Jesus, rather than the training he had received as a child).
But if you cast a wider net, you’ll certainly find passages in which Paul seems to be struggling with his own inner demons, lamenting that he does the thing he wouldn’t, defending himself a little too ardently as if he were the subject of criticism from others as well as himself. In the conclusion to this lectionary reading, Paul is certainly not negating our identity as women and men, as members with different ethnic heritages, religious backgrounds, and nationalities. Part of Paul’s ministry was to support the right of those who came from differing backgrounds, like the Graeco-Roman world, or the Celtic world in the case of the Galats (the Latin word for Celt) to worship through the lens of that background. But he is also recognizing we belong to a larger, inclusive identity in Jesus Christ. We are part of something greater than ourselves that includes who we are as individuals. Sadly, Paul could not liberate someone who was a slave, but as we could see in his letter to Philemon, he could attempt in Christ to change the status and relationship of a person. Individuals whose depression or other conditions contributes to the quality of their mental health require medical and emotional help, and the greatest thing the church can do is be inclusive, accepting people as we are as we work together to become new creations in Christ.
Luke 8:26-39
Some suggest that the demoniac, who self-identifies as Legion, is a cashiered soldier from the Roman army, who has seen too much and done too much, leaving him unable to live with the inner demons that plague him with PTSD. He is homeless, like so many veterans, unclothed and having no possessions, and unable to function in the society. The fact that the shepherds watch over a flock of pigs, an unclean animal in the Judean parts of this territory, highlights the fact that Jesus is in the Gentile world and facing someone who may well have been damaged by his experiences of brutality and havoc, including the crucifying of untold numbers of victims.
Jesus has just demonstrated his power over the waters in the scene that preceded this one. At the beginning of Genesis, the Spirit of God moves over the abyss of the deep and displays the same mastery over the waters, confronting the gods of chaos, tohu and bohu, translated “formless” and “void.” The legion of demons plaguing this person are afraid of the abyss, the waters, but ironically their plea to be sent into the herd of pigs is futile because the pigs cast themselves, lemming-like, into the lake and are drowned.
This, of course, causes great economic damage to the community, and as Luke makes clear, all of the people in the surrounding area, instead of praising Jesus and holding a parade in his honor, beg him to leave. Instead of rejoicing, the community is more comfortable with the uncomfortably afflicted living miserably outside of town and not reintegrated into their lives. They are not ready to do the work that falls to the community of faith to include rather than to box such people off. There is a price after all – a price all of society needs to be ready to pay – to reintegrate, include, and restore those struggling with depression, those who are working towards mental health.
How sensitive, how inclusive, how patient, is your congregation in this matter?
