Anthony Bourdain, Suicide and the Human Condition. Depression Can Affect Anyone, Including People of Faith

Fans of Anthony Bourdain were saddened this morning to learn that he had committed suicide.

Mr. Bourdain had always struck me as a great guy. I imagined that we could have been good friends.  Although I never knew him, I have come to know a thing or two about the overwhelming sort of sadness that led him to hang himself.

Depression wears many different faces, not all of them bleak, most of them deceptive. As others have already observed, we never truly know what is happening inside another human being.

Heck, much of the time I don’t even know what is happening inside myself.

And while it takes a lifetime of effort to survive in the world, it only takes a moment of overwhelming sadness to bid this life farewell.  Life is unfair in that way.

I know this for I have stood on that precipice, too, and lingered long staring over the edge, sharing in fellowship with people like Anthony Bourdain.

According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the US.  On average, 123 Americans kill themselves each day.  51% of them do it with a gun.

Christians and other people of faith are not exempt from this danger. In fact, religious convictions can be a complicating factor in a person’s will to live…or to die.

In the fall of 2000, as new faculty member at Calvin College, fresh out of the pastorate, I gave two talks at student chapel services describing my own struggles with depression and thoughts of suicide.  Perhaps now is an appropriate moment to offer abbreviated versions of these talks on my blog.

Here is the first.  I called it:  When You Know Jesus and You Still Want to Die:

Yesterday, I went to see my psychiatrist.  Sometimes I call him my shrink, but I’ve sensed that he doesn’t think that’s funny.  So I’ve stopped calling him that…at least, in his office.  He is a great guy.   I visit him every three months, and we talk about life.

We also talk about whether my medication still seems to be working properly.  That’s the main reason for our appointments.  For the past 5 or 6 years I have taken anti-depressants.  I expect that I will do so for the rest of my life.  And seldom does a day go by when I don’t thank God for the gift of medical research.

I will spare you all the gory details.  Suffice it to say that I have struggled with cyclical bouts of depression, from mild to wild, since I was about 18 years old.  I taught myself to cope.  I learned how to “keep on keepin’ on” until the clouds finally broke and I could see some blue sky again.

But as I hit middle-age the dark periods became darker and longer, and the slices of blue sky became slimmer and duller.  I have long been familiar with thoughts of death and its appeal.  But now I found myself strongly wishing that it would come soon, and thinking about how I should help it along.

Being a Christian didn’t help.  In fact, being a Christian made death all the more appealing.  After all, I knew where I was going, and I believed it would be a much better place where I could finally be free of the darkness.

There’s no darkness in heaven.  Oh my goodness, how I really, reaaallllllly wanted to lay down and finally rest in all that heavenly light.

Honestly, knowing Jesus is not what kept me alive.   Thankfully, God had given me the gift of a family.  Though I did not understand why, I knew that my wife and children all loved me.  And I knew that I would scar my children for the rest of their lives if I took my own life.  So I worked very, very hard at sticking around…for them.

I know that listening to this kind of story makes some people uncomfortable.  Either it hits too close to home, or it is so foreign to you that it sounds like science fiction.  So, I want to offer some encouragement to both groups of people:

(1) For everybody – I owe my mental health, in large part, to the loving support of a beautiful Christian community where I was fortunate enough to be the pastor.  I was a part of a group of people who loved me and accepted me, warts and all.  I was free to talk openly about my struggles, about my depression, and rather than pushing me away, they held me even closer.

My elders and staff members would ask me how my medication was doing, and then they would pray with me.  My small group Bible study passed the hat and raised the money to send my wife and I to a psychiatric retreat center for crazy clergy.  (It was full).  Then when I got back the church asked me to teach them about what I had learned, and they told me they wanted me to be their pastor more than ever.

The Body of Christ loved me through my darkest hours.  I never once felt judged or condemned by anybody.

I know that this is not everyone’s story, but I was fortunate enough that it became mine.

People who struggle with depression tend not to talk about their struggles, at least not in the church, because we are afraid of the ostracism, the silent assumption that there must be something wrong with you if you feel that way.  Every depressed personality has heard the standard, religious lines:

“It’s your own fault.”

“There must be some sin in your life.”

“Pray more/Pray harder/Pray in tongues.”

“Get into the Word more regularly.”

“It must be the Devil.”

“If you were spiritually mature you wouldn’t feel that way.”

“If you really had the Spirit, you wouldn’t need a pill.”

If you hear that kind of advice often enough, leaving this world for heaven sounds more and more inviting…if doesn’t put you off of the faith altogether.

We need to remember the advice that Jesus gave, “Come to me, all you who labor and are carrying heaven burdens, and I will give you rest.”  Jesus then condemned the Pharisees for putting “heavy loads onto the backs of hurting people who were already bent over by more than they can bear.”

The church is called to be the body of Jesus Christ, not the long arm of the self-righteous.  We all need to examine ourselves and pray that the Lord will cleanse us of our wretched judgmentalism and teach us to love all people regardless of their problems.

(2) For those who have never been depressed, let me tell you, people who write self-help books explaining how your attitude is entirely up to you do not understand what it is like to be depressed.

I never understood my depression any better than anyone else.  Intelligence, rationality, will-power, self-discipline, those things all become irrelevant.  You might as well urge Rush Limbaugh to vote for Hillary Clinton as tell a depressed person to just snap out of it.  It’s just not possible.

I would often feel disembodied, as if I was an outside observer watching myself in a bad horror movie.  I would tell myself that I was being totally irrational, that there was no good reason to feel the way I did, that I really needed to do something about the situation, but…I…could…not…do…anything.

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you are trying to run, but you cannot make your body move?  You are being chased by a pack of ravenous wolves, but…you…just…can’t…move….

Imagine waking up one morning only to discover that it’s not a dream.  It’s real.  You CAN’T move!  You’re frozen.

That’s what it’s like to be depressed.

Please, don’t give you friends glib advice about how they ought to just buck up and feel better.

(3) What about people who are struggling right now? – There is one step I hope you can take:  reach out for help.  Please.  If you are thinking about suicide, know that there are people (some you haven’t met yet) who will love you and want to help you.  Talk to someone you can trust.

There is nothing wrong with talking to a counselor or a therapist.  The Spirit of God has given different gifts to different people.  Some people have the spiritual gift of listening and caring; when that gift is sharpened through study and practice, going to a therapist is simply another way God wants the body of Christ to be a real community.

If you feel you have no one, then call your local suicide hot line.  If you don’t know a local number, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.  Call a distant relative. Visit a neighbor.  Talk to someone.  Anyone.

There is nothing to be ashamed of in talking, confessing, asking for help. I know how hard it is.  I know that I felt ashamed.  I suspect that most of us who live with depression feel ashamed most of the time.

I felt ashamed of not being able to make myself feel better.  And admitting to depression feels like adding one more failure to the list.

And to be told that you may have to take medication…  No way! When I first heard those words I cried like a baby, partly because it felt as though I was surrendering to mental illness, and I was ashamed of my apparent weakness.

Friends, all of those thoughts and feelings are a lie.

The fact is, we live in a world that does not work right.  Believe it or not, this is the hidden consolation to be found in the Christian doctrine of original sin.

This life is not the way God originally intended it to be.  Sin has thrown a huge monkey wrench into the cosmos, and shrapnel has flown everywhere, ripping huge, ugly gashes throughout every part of God’s good creation.

Babies are now born prematurely and come into this world scarred with birth defects.  Cancer ravages our parents and grandparents, cutting their lives short before our own children ever have a chance to get to know them.

For some of us, our brain chemistry is all fouled up so we can’t always think straight or feel right.  Fortunately, we live in a time where surgery can perform wonders for premature babies.  And cancer treatments can prolong people’s lives for years.  And…when necessary…for some of us…medication can help the chemicals in our brains to finally start working the way God intended them to.

Admitting to a problem is never a weakness; it is never something to be ashamed of.

Reaching out for help, admitting your limitations is a step of maturity, just as offering such help to others and loving hurting people is a task for the church.  For, at the end of the day, it is only within those sorts of honest, caring relationships that we can begin to experience what it means to be loved by Jesus.