November 2006 Archives

I'm not entirely convinced, after all, that I'm 'suffering' from depression — as opposed to going through a rough patch emotionally and spiritually, that might be resolved through means other than pharmacological.

Let me state at the outset that the drugs were the worst experience of my life. First Wellbutrin, and then after a week of mental and physical torture from the side effects, the doctor switched me to Effexor — not as bad, but still a rough ride that I wasn't prepared to endure longer than three days. I've done a lot of drugs (both legal and illegal) in my lifetime, including some very bad acid trips. But nothing prepared me for the horrors of SSRI antidepressants.

What the doctors don't tell you when you start treatment on an SSRI, is that the side effects can be so wrenching that the experience can literally leave you feeling more depressed and helpless than when you started out. And even if you stop using the drugs, the side effects can continue for some time afterward. 10 days after stopping Effexor, I still have a constant ringing in the ears about which I'm starting to wonder whether it will ever go away... But at least it's better than the mania, nausea, vomiting, belching, anxiety, headaches and other 'side effects' I experienced while on Wellbutrin. Which was ironic, since the reason I visited my doctor in the first place was due to irritable bowel syndrome, the symptoms of which included nausea, vomiting, belching, anxiety, etc.

I did some research online and found some personal testimonies of lifelong addiction to antidepressants, and some terrible stories about drug treatments that read like experiments on lab rats. As I found myself, a physician will recommend one drug and if that doesn't work (or if the side effects are intolerable) keep trying different drugs, doses or combinations until 'something works'.

It seems that scientists don't really know how these toxic chemicals work to correct the assumed chemical imbalances. And with all the talk of chemical imbalance, you'd think it would be important to actually detect one before offering a diagnosis. But all that is required for a diagnosis is that you answer a short one-page psychological questionnaire in a certain way. Gosh, the patient is exhibiting depressed thoughts, so roll out the prescription pad!

This type of diagnosis seems more quackery than real science. Clearly the drug companies benefit in promoting the idea that 50 million Americans suffer from depression, and the corollary that drug treatment is the answer. 

Personally, I think a lot of people, including me, experience depression because we haven't been able to adjust our expectations too well to reality. A lot of men my age and older go through through 'mid-life crises'. Are these caused by chemical imbalances? Or is it just that modern life can often feel crushing, hurtful and seemingly pointless?

I'm not questioning the existence of real clinical depression in some people. But is it just possible that a good portion of those 50 million depressed Americans are suffering not from a chemical imbalance but from the challenge of living in a difficult and often spirtually bankrupt age?

Sometimes I feel hopelessly depressed because my life doesn't seem to be going where I had hoped, because I feel that I haven't grasped my vocation, that I've missed opportunities and squandered blessings. The despair comes from feeling not loved, or not loving enough, or not understood, or grieving over past hurts and failures. It feels more existential than physical.

Maybe the right pill would cure the symptoms, but would it address the spiritual malaise underneath or just push it further down where it can't disturb me? I want to deal with my demons, to face them and move through them, to learn from them and grow as a result. Maybe a pill will make my life easier, but in flattening out the ridges and valleys might it prevent me from learning and growing from life's challenges?

I'll pass on the chemical lobotomy for now I think. 

Today's readings from the daily office include Revelation 17. This passage and chapter 18 describe the punishment and fall of mystical Babylon, the mother of abominations who rules over all the nations of the earth:

Come, I will show you the punishment of the great prostitute, who sits on many waters. With her the kings of the earth committed adultery and the inhabitants of the earth were intoxicated with the wine of her adulteries. (17:1-2)

To the first or second century readers of Revelation, Babylon of course was imperial Rome. But what interests me more than a historical-critical interpretation of this imagery is the idea of the embodiment of idolatry. Babylon is incomparably wealthy, riding upon the beast of imperial military and political power, drenched in the blood of the innocent, with all the nations are under her spell.

What particularly potent imagery for what Walter Wink refers to as the Domination System — an idolatrous system of power and privilege based on imperial culture and the myth of redemptive violence. In The Powers That Be (which I started reading a few days ago), Wink interprets the Babylonian creation story Enuma Elish as the archetypal narrative of the myth that social order and cohesion must be maintained and reinforced through repeated sacrificial violence.

The Romans were the first century inheritors, through the Pax Romana, of the myth of redemptive violence. The Domination System ruled through Roman imperial power and through its descendants in Christendom and later the modern nation state.

One does not have to look too far to see Babylon's modern sons, who continue to insist it is necessary to destroy entire societies through suffering and bloodshed in order to save them. These days however, redemptive violence is waged under euphemisms like 'structural adjustment', 'collateral damage' and 'staying the course'.

They will make war against the Lamb, but the Lamb will overcome them because he is Lord of lords and King of kings—and with him will be his called, chosen and faithful followers. (17:14)

The great promise of Revelation is that such oppression and violence will be overturned, ultimately and nonviolently, by the Lamb. Might is not right, and ultimately will not prevail.

In the current issue of Newsweek there is a series of articles on 'The Politics of Jesus.'

In a lead article that dissects the growing rifts within evangelical ranks, Newsweek writer Lisa Miller parses evangelicals into the classic categories of conservative, moderate and progressive. She asks, 'How much do they have to show for the decades of activism? And if they are to turn from what Roger Williams called "the garden of Christ's church" to fight the battles of "the wilderness of the world," what should those battles be?'

In my view, there is no real 'politics of Jesus'. The issue is not whether God votes Republican, Democrat or Green. Nothing in Jesus' life, ministry or death suggests support for specific political parties or partisan positions. Jesus was not apolitical but anti-political (in the sense that the things of Caesar were definitely not the Kingdom of God).

There is much to be said for Greg Boyd's position that while Christians should engage vigorously in the public and political spheres, Jesus Christ transcends democratic politics — and it cheapens the gospel to suggest that there is a 'politics of Jesus' or a distinctly Christian political position.

Miller compares the culture war scaremongering of religious leaders like James Dobson to a much different message from suburban Kansas megachurch pastor, Adam Hamilton:

He was helping his 14,000 members parse the parables in Matthew 13—the wheat and the weeds, the good fish and bad. "Our task is not to go around judging people—Jesus didn't do that," he tells NEWSWEEK. He encourages his congregation to vote, he says, but when they do they're neither predictably Republican nor Democratic. On the issues, many are increasingly frustrated with the war in Iraq; they're conservative on abortion, but they "express compassion" for homosexuals. The religious right has "gone too far," says Hamilton. "They've lost their focus on the spirit of Jesus and have separated the world into black and white, when the world is much more gray." He adds: "I can't see Jesus standing with signs at an anti-gay rally. It's hard to picture that."

The fact that evanglicals are finding more nuanced positions on social issues and returning to the core of Jesus' social justice teachings should not come as a surprise. It should also not be seen as some sort of 'swing' to the left, as some commentators seem to posit. As Miller points out:

Some Christians, exhausted by divisive wedge politics, are going back to the Bible and embracing a wider-ranging agenda, one that emphasizes reaching out to the poor and disenfranchised.

I see this more as a spiritual issue than a political one. Evangelicals are coming out from under the shadows of a fundamentalism they have been unrighteously shackled to for the past two to three decades. As the Moral Majority and Christian Coalition flounder, as Focus on The Family and minsitries like it become more and more extreme and single-issue obsessed, people are beginning to ask what any of that has to do with the gospel.

My favorite personal Bible is my faux-leather bound version of Eugene Peterson's The Message. Embossed on the front cover is a small bird-like face, underneath which is one word: THINK. The emergence of intelligent thought in a young person is a sign of a maturing outlook. I'm sure it's the same with today's evangelicals.

I can't say I'm surprised by recent revelations concerning Ted Haggard.

Who knows what 'dark' secrets and goings-on plague the lives of many religious right leaders? I suspect that the 'moral' issues that so obsess many of these (mostly) middle aged men wield such a unique and powerful fascination that often they find it impossible not to blur the lines between concern and involvement.

What is strange, but also perhaps less than surprising, is Haggard's apparent reluctance to part with the full truth of the story. Why not lay all his cards on the table? What is it about powerful men when they fall that they still have to hedge their confessions with statements like "I didn't inhale" or "It was just a massage"?

I'm sure the psychologists have better answers than me to that question.