Man Up

There once was a man who was silent. He was not quiet because he was shy. His life had somehow become one of isolation where he groaned under the pressure of mental pain until he felt it in his physical body. It was bone shattering, life suffocating agony. A leader among men, the young man once glowed with the strength of youth and purpose. His vitality was seemingly irrepressible and irresistible. And then it was gone. He went from a life full of green and abundant harvest to a life of barren drought. Day and night, the depression was sucking the life out of him to the point where his dark room was his only home. And he paused because that is all he could do.

Yet, still he is a hero. Everyone knows his name. Those searching for an example of how to live an upright, humble, and heroic life look to him as the ultimate example of how to follow God and truly live as a man of strength and dignity even when reading his desperate words: “When I kept silent, my bones grew old through my groaning all the day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me: My vitality was turned into the drought of summer. Selah.”

There was another man who stood up to injustice like a lion in a furor. He could not tolerate the suffering he saw the people around him bearing. He dedicated his life to God and to challenging the institution that dared to treat his community with such blatant disregard, disrespect, and humiliation. They were starving. They were dying. And he would not take it. He snarled at the pretentious displays of power and he won tremendous victory. And then he crumbled into a thousand pieces. The fear that he had once battled and he thought destroyed came after him. And he ran far away. He thought he had been better than those before him. It wasn’t arrogance. He just wanted to make an impact like others in his line were too cowardly to do. But now. Now was different. He was despondent, and he ran way to be alone in the wilderness to hide. He was suicidal wanting nothing else other than to die.

We study this general of a man. We strive towards moving in the miraculous as he did. He was a man of prayer, a man who was not afraid to mock evil, and a man who God’s power so consumed that he ran faster than chariots on foot. Still, after all the triumph, despair consumed him like flame on oil. “I have had enough Lord, he said. Take my life, I am not better than my ancestors.”

David and Elijah are names that strike images of valor and abandonment to God. It does not seem to phase us in the slightest that at times in their life, they were utterly consumed with death in the grave sorrow and agony of the soul. Overwhelmed by achy bones, anxiety, questions of where God was, and completely paused on life, they were depressed and the thought of dying at times filled their thoughts. In fact, we look their honesty and their raw expressions, and we call them a man after God’s own heart, and the one whose LORD was God.

This then is my question.

Why in the church do we so often treat people who suffer from anxiety and depression as though they were somehow unsurrendered to God and in some kind of state of ingratitude that perhaps brought them to a place where they forgot God? We do it to women, we do it to men. I believe that men feel the brunt of the pressure this mentality.

“Man up.” What in the world does that mean?  David could take down giants with stones and Elijah could destroy prophets of Baal. This seems to fit the description of a strong man: warriors full of bravery and trust in their God. Maybe that is what it means to some people. When life is hard, just “man up.” Be like those men who fought and never gave up.

Yes, I can see this being a deeply ingrained and valid thought process in our culture.

“Man up.” Do we still think it applies to men who were utterly crushed by what we would today call clinical depression and suicide risk? Were they true men when they wept and fell on their faces in complete isolation wishing to breathe their last breath?  Do we say, “You’re hurting. Express it, you’re not soft for feeling and you’re not soft for sharing your struggle. Man up.”

No, not often.  Although we look to men like David and Elijah as heroes, I do not believe the overall culture that I see today includes allowing a part of manhood to be working through emotional trauma without being considered “soft” or away from God, or involved in some kind of egregious sin.

Man up? No. Shame Up.

I believe the consequence of this belief system is an absolutely unbearable burden of shame.

If we want to have heroes, we have to accept them for the fullness of who they were as humans and apply it to our lives. If Jesus could weep with agony until his sweat was blood, we too need to learn to connect with what is really going on inside of our hearts.

We live in a culture where it is possible to be fooled by the beautiful, filtered pictures all over social media with quotes that we take like they are scripture.

Please hear me. Many times, all it is is a filter.

We are a filter impressed society, and we are a filter impressed church. It is no wonder we are shocked by the stories of adultery and suicide. We are way too impressed with a surface idea of beauty and success. We do not know how to get into a safe intimate place with people to really understand what they are going through. Instead, we are shocked by the stories we hear and write all sorts of feedback and response to situations when many of us have never stepped into the dirt with a strong person who is suffering. To hear their heart. To cry with them. To be silent with them. Instead, we wait for them to come to us, or worse, we read about their epic downfall with horror not understanding how it could happen.

There is beautiful opportunity in this time to be hands and feet and ears that actually work and function correctly. Take the time. Ask someone whom you admire how they are doing. And I do not mean a text or a comment on an online platform. I mean a face to face meaningful conversation that demonstrates empathy and true concern for who they are as people. Unless we take the time to do this with the men and women in our lives, we will never know if they are suffering David and Elijah moments until it is too late.

There are heroes in all of our lives.  They are beautiful people who sacrifice, share, smile, fight, and work. They are people who often suffer silently for fear of being looked at as “lacking faith”, “ungodly” or dare I say, “demon possessed.” We need to break the cycle. We need healing and the bravery to step beyond the screens that block reality. It just may be that your hero needs a hand. And it’s ok...it makes them all the more worthy of admiration and trust for them to admit that.

May we all heal, and may we destroy shame with ferocious humility.