A sense of meaninglessness—a void, a wilderness, a lack of direction—affects such a large number of people today that it has come to define the dominant mood of the society we live in and contribute to.
Scientific research has made great strides in understanding this phenomenon. We now have access to an extensive body of data dedicated to its study. Yet despite the impressive and meticulous nature of this progress, it remains insufficient. The reality is that this psychological “tsunami” continues to spread like a dark tide, engulfing more and more lives at an alarming rate.
Roots
Clearly, something essential is missing from the equation. How else can we explain that both Job and Solomon—despite their drastically different life circumstances—experienced the same kind of depression? Job cursed the day he was born: “May the day of my birth perish, and the night that said, ‘A boy is conceived!’”[1]. Meanwhile, Solomon said: “So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.”[2].
How is it that both people who endure unimaginable suffering and those who possess immense wealth, status, or popularity take their own lives? We are dealing with a common denominator—one and the same thing that is missing in all these cases. And it is not related to their vastly different, even opposite, circumstances, but rather exists above and beyond those conditions. When the same effects arise from such diverse situations, it becomes clear that the root cause of depression transcends external differences and is closely tied to a dialogue between the individual and something beyond themselves.
From a certain point of view, depression is often attributed to chemical imbalances. But rarely does anyone ask where those imbalances come from in the first place.
I once met a woman who suffered from violent panic attacks triggered by the most unexpected situations. Doctors eventually discovered that she had a severe magnesium deficiency. She was given a magnesium injection, and almost immediately, her condition appeared to improve. Sadly, that improvement was short-lived. What followed was a collapse even more devastating than before—so deep, it seemed impossible she could fall any further.
What the doctor didn’t know was that the woman had secretly undergone an abortion under circumstances too harrowing to describe here. The emotional fallout from that experience had shattered her sense of purpose and identity. It was this deep, unresolved trauma that had pushed her into such a state—and continued to trap her there.
Magnesium, whether injected or taken in other forms, is beneficial and often recommended in such cases. But it will be drained from the body just as quickly as it is introduced, unless the underlying cause of the depletion is addressed.
You don’t fix a flat tire by pumping in more air—you have to pull out the nail and seal the puncture. A hemorrhage isn’t stopped by a blood transfusion; the source of the bleeding must be found and closed, often through surgery. A tourniquet helps, even saves lives—but it’s not a permanent solution.
What’s needed is a much deeper intervention, of a completely different nature. We have to address the root cause.
Treating the chemical imbalance or the immediate symptom of an illness is only one step—and just one part—of the process required to truly save a life. The fight must continue with the restoration of self-image—an effort that, in turn, depends on restoring the image of God in a mind wounded by illness. This is the final stronghold that must be taken at all costs. If left unchallenged, it can at any moment undermine the entire battle against depression.
The end of the last century and the beginning of the current one have witnessed an explosion of specialized literature, scientific research, and a wide array of theories promoting self-image as the cure for the scourge of depression. It’s like a beautiful well—clean, well-constructed, and almost engineering-like in its precision. The only problem is, it has no water.
In other words, theories about self-image, self-respect, self-esteem, and the consistent cultivation of optimism—though meaningful steps in the right direction—tragically stop just short of truly solving the problem.
Roy Baumeister, a psychology professor at Florida State University, devoted thirty years to studying self-image as a solution to the major psychological challenges facing humanity. After three decades of rigorous work, he admitted: “There is not nearly as much benefit as we hoped. It’s been one of the biggest disappointments of my career.”[3]
A common thread running through nearly all theories that attempt to explain and prevent depression is the idea that people should look within themselves for the solution. While this approach has its merits, it is ultimately insufficient. Not only has it failed to shift the statistics on suicide or the prevalence of depression, but it may soon prove to be, in fact, a contributing factor to the problem.
Some answers must indeed be found within—but others lie outside the self. In the life of a spiritual person, prayer does not replace action, and action cannot replace prayer. Prayer without action is a solemn mockery; action without prayer is arrogance. The same principle applies to the search for both the cause and the cure of depression—within the self and beyond it. These are not mutually exclusive, as today’s culture often insists, but rather beautifully and powerfully complementary.
Two sets of eyes
Scientists acknowledge the undeniable link between the mind and the body. Scripture affirms this as well: “The human spirit can endure in sickness, but a crushed spirit who can bear?”[4] Attitudes, emotions, and inner states exert a real influence on the body’s biological systems. “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”[5]
This is the same conclusion reached over two thousand years ago by Plato and Galen, echoed in modern terms as: “there is a direct correlation between the mind, the body and one’s health.” Remarkable progress has been made in the fight against suffering in general, and depression in particular. Ernest and Isadora Rosenbaum, previously cited in reference to Plato, highlight the significant strides taken in the right direction—especially the growing incorporation of psychological, and more cautiously, spiritual dimensions into the battle for life and health: “Researchers are now experimenting with methods of actively enlisting the mind in the body’s combat with cancer, using techniques such as meditation, biofeedback and visualization (creating in the mind positive images about what is occurring in the body). Some doctors and psychologists now believe that the proper attitude may even have a direct effect on cell function and consequently may be used to arrest, if not cure, cancer. This new field of scientific study, called psychoneuroimmunology, focuses on the effect that mental and emotional activity has on physical well-being, indicating that patients can play a much larger role in their recovery.”
But here we are again, facing the same recurring problem. What these experts are saying is true. Yet the crucial question remains unanswered: How does one reach that healing mindset? Where can it be found? How can it be cultivated?
On this point, there is nothing but silence—both figuratively and, all too often, literally. It echoes that old saying from the time of Dr. Semmelweis: “The operation was a success, but the patient died.” As if, somehow, the patient should be ashamed of not having made it.
This is precisely the point where the person of faith must step in—to carry forward what the scientist has discovered and defined. If, from this point on, the scientist falls silent—whether by choice, by external pressure, or by circling back to where he started—then it is the duty of the believer to take up the baton and press on with the fight, even if it means doing so under the acid rain of what the apostle Paul once referred to as “what is falsely called knowledge.”[6]
God will say to the scientist, “Well done, good and faithful servant!”[7] for his research, and then He will call upon the person of faith—this Joshua of the exodus from the Egypt of suffering—to lead the “patient” into the promised land. It is the spiritual person who will guide the suffering soul to God, in whom are hidden all the treasures that science has only begun to anticipate. These treasures are found there—and only there. “For in him we live and move and have our being,”[8] “heals all your diseases,”[9] “God keeps them occupied with gladness of heart,”[10] and, ultimately, “he will deliver you from death”[11]—and even more than that: “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”[12] Your brother, the scientist, has fallen ill with the madness of trying to become God by denying God.
If you, a person of faith, do not carry to completion what your brother, the scientist, has labored intensely to bring to light, you will be guilty of the same sin and of the failure of your fellow human being’s life. If you allow yourself to be intimidated by the mockery and malice of your brother, the scientist, you will have betrayed your sacred calling. What else could Einstein have meant when he said:
“But whoever has undergone the intense experience of successful advances made in this domain is moved by profound reverence for the rationality made manifest in existence. By way of the understanding he achieves a far-reaching emancipation from the shackles of personal hopes and desires, and thereby attains that humble attitude of mind toward the grandeur of reason incarnate in existence, and which, in its profoundest depths, is inaccessible to man. This attitude, however, appears to me to be religious, in the highest sense of the word.”[13]
