Sermon – Preaching in Holes: Depressed and Loved
Matthew 26:36-44; 1 Kings 19:1–15a, 19
7/12/26
One of the most inspirational people I have ever learned about is famous as the world record holder of Olympic medals – that is 28 medals total, 23 of them gold medals, and eight of those 23 golds were at ONE Olympics (the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics) which I believe is also a record. That inspirational American athlete par excellence is Michael Phelps, of course. Like many of you, I watched him on the television in at least some of those performances when he was racking up gold after gold. It did not seem real or possible that someone could be that good or that successful again and again. Something else that Phelps is known for, however, is his openness about his depression and his personal struggles with mental health.
You might think, “OK, that is one Olympic athlete. There are plenty of folk out there who do wrestle with mental health. Some of them are probably world class athletes, also. Except, depression is actually fairly common among those high level, high achieving men and women, even among the most successful. There is even a term for this “post-Olympics blues.” More recently, another stand-out, Simone Biles (perhaps the greatest gymnast of all time) grappled with her struggles right in the middle of the competition. This is fascinating because to achieve at that level of excellence requires one to have mental strength to match physical strength. It takes a drive both within and without to work that hard to be the best. These are not weak people.
Of course, that is part of the problem. When you have devoted so, so much of yourself into something and its over, there is a profound crisis of “what’s next?” In the same vein, many people have been derailed after retirement, after working so long and so hard and then suddenly stopping. It is easy to understand how depression can be such a challenge for some people, even some people we might not expect.
Would you expect Jesus? Probably not unless you have successfully come to grips with the fact that he was just as human as the rest of us. More than that, he lived in a time of great difficulty under a pagan, cruel rule; in poverty; with the death of a father; surrounded by people who were a difficult representation of what the worship of God was supposed to be and who constantly misunderstood him and even attacked him; and he knew that his story on earth was going to end very badly for him. If he was truly human (as we desperately believe), then he was depressed from time to time, of course. A number of times in the gospels he laments about the state of his generation of people. His ministry took a toll on him. Here in Matthew’s Gospel, we may see the absolute worst of it for Jesus. He seems to come very close to choosing door #2 instead of the way that he had been headed toward, and he could have chosen differently. It was his free choice to make. I think that is one reason why we see him struggle so much with that decision. It was his choice to reflect God’s desire, but that night was literally and figurately his darkest time.
It should be obvious, but I need to make sure I am explicit: I am no therapist or psychologist. I do not have a license to give you any professional mental help, and that is not my purpose today. A great number of people know how hard depression and other mental health challenges can be, myself and people close to me, included. You probably do, as well. Sometimes, it is a brief bout; sometimes, it is chronic and truly debilitating. That kind of situation can feel like there is a black hole at the center of our life from which there is no escape. It can feel like we are a tremendous failure, like there is nothing of value. While there is nothing that I can say to make it stop or to fix those feelings. What I can say is that it can be normal to know this kind of brokenness, and God is right there in that brokenness and in the heartache with us.
I have visited Mt. Carmel in Israel where the greatest of Jewish prophets, Elijah, squared off against the prophets of the god Baal. This is a majestic piece of real estate with a wide view over the surrounding lands. It is a fitting location for such a monumental showdown that takes place just before the passage I read from 1 Kings 19. The corruption and evil of Baal worship and the tyranny of Ahab and Jezebel are an affront to God. Enough is enough and Elijah marches right up to King Ahab and offers a challenge: your 450 prophets against just me. We shall see who the real God is.
It is a riveting story that I would love to go through, but that is another sermon. Let’s just say fire from heaven proves that Elijah serves the true God. It was a victory by God that shut down the Baal worship right then and there and brought the hearts of people back to God, but Elijah, the one man who had the courage and faith to face hundreds, if not thousands by himself, was undone. Immediately after God’s certain, amazing victory, Elijah flew into a fit of depression so severe that he believed he was as good as dead because of the threat of Queen Jezebel. Where is his faith, his confidence, his strength, his rock? Elijah was broken, which is astounding given what he had just seen and done. In his current state, Elijah was no good to God, BUT….
Did God condemn Elijah for little faith? No.
Did God accuse Elijah for going weak? No.
Did God punish Elijah for this seeming flipflop? No.
God fed him. God gave him what he needed. And God asked him a simple question, “What are you doing here?” As if Elijah is caught in a bad dream, God calls him back to the world. There is no abandonment, no criticism, no denigration, no castigation, no rebuke. He accepts Elijah and what he is facing, but he does not leave him there. God goes to Elijah with value and understanding and hope. God connects to Elijah in his need and invites him to a closeness, an intimacy with God, that will sustain him. This is really the most incredible part of this whole story.
All of the ways that we might assume God might show up, the incredible wind (we saw that in Job and crossing the Red Sea), an earthquake (think Mt. Sinai, the death and resurrection of Jesus, and Paul and Silas in prison), and fire (again, Moses on the mountain or the contest with the prophets of Baal) – all these ways are the big dramatic expressions of God’s presence, but what about those times the big and powerful just does not mean much? Think about this. When you are stuck and feeling lost, when you might be overwhelmed and consumed by silence yourself, that is where God comes and speaks – in the silence. The still small voice is where God meets Elijah. It is hard to understand exactly what that even means, but when you have been there yourself, you understand. When words, actions, and the production are all just too much, God meets us in the stillness, in the silence, in the emptiness. God held Elijah in silence, in his pain and in his suffering.
We can have bad answers for people holding this weight. “Just get over it.” “Take that frown and turn it upside down.” Just the other day I heard, “suck it up, buttercup.” Or the pernicious, “what’s wrong WITH YOU?” It is incredibly easy to make the person the problem or to dismiss their deeply held feelings. It is never convenient when someone else is hurting this way, but what they need is a friend – even someone to sit with them in silence.
There were no mental health professionals back in Elijah’s day. That, of course, would have been wonderful, and we should be very grateful to have that option for today. Many health insurance policies give free visits to people we can talk to about these struggles. My own policy keeps reminding me, and I am inclined to use some just for a happy, healthy mind check-up. There is nothing wrong with going for help, especially before it gets so, so serious. God does the next best thing for Elijah. After coming to him in the sound of silence, after proving that God was with him there in his struggle, he calls Elijah, again, and gives him a friend. Elijah was alone for so long, and it had hurt him. He would never be alone, again. God sent him on a new path and brought him to Elisha who would one day take over for Elijah. This feels like a caring, compassionate response for someone who was in trouble. Elisha would walk with him, serve with him, and learn with him. Elijah needed someone, and God provided.
We are not meant to be left alone in our troubles. God deeply cares about what’s going on in our lives, what has us feeling the ways we do, and what has us upset or hurt. Why are we here? This is where the community, the family of faith comes in. This is where prayer supports, but finding someone, even in the silence, is a true gift. Connecting people to help is a gift of love and walking with them into what they need is our ministry. We are all worth the effort, and sometimes we need to be reminded that we are worth it, too. We may be depressed, but we are also loved.
These days are not any easier for us as people, as children of God. So much of this world drags on us and pushes us in unhealthy ways. Being healthy in our minds and hearts is just as important, if not more so, than our bodies. Remember what is important here. Remember what the love of God can really do with us and through us and for us. We are not alone.
To God be the glory. Amen.