Upside Down Advent: Despair versus hope

Here we are at Christmastime again, and ‘tis the season to be jolly. Right? Except what if you’re not feeling that jolly? Is that even allowed? Will you be consigned to binge watch Hallmark Christmas movies?

If ever there was a season designed to shame those who are not feeling the groove, it’s Christmas. Everything about it — both the secular and the sacred — is built around good times, good feelings, good memories.

Yet for many of us, that’s about as true as a Hallmark Christmas movie.

My goal here is not to be a Debbie Downer or to throw wet snow on the warm fires of Christmas past. Instead, my goal is to help us acknowledge that in some seasons of life, the ho, ho, ho makes us feel more ho, ho hopeless.

This may not be your experience this year, but it likely has been or will be your experience sometime. At the risk of being labeled a Grinch, I want to help us take an honest look at the underside of Advent. Or if you’re a Stranger Things fan, let’s call it the upside down of Advent.

Advent

Much of the Christian world prepares for Christmas Day and Christmastide through the spiritual disciple of Advent — a word that means “to wait.” And the four weeks of Advent often is represented in a sequence of themes: hope, peace, joy, love.

For this series, we’re going to take those four words and look at their opposites. So week one will be Advent for those who despair, week two will be Advent for those who are anxious, week three will be Advent for those who are sorrowful, and week four will be Advent for those who feel unloved.

Perhaps you’re already ahead of me and thinking, “But those fours words have a lot in common and sometimes overlap.” That’s true, which is why we’re going to be particular about how we define them and discuss them. And you may have noticed there’s one word not listed in the series that could be the most prevalent feeling of the season: Depression.

We see that represented in A Charlie Brown Christmas when Charlie Brown confides in Linus: “Christmas is coming, but I’m not happy.” He continues: “I just don’t understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I’m still not happy.”

Then in frustration Charlie Brown yells: “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?!”

And that sets up Linus to step into the spotlight and recite from memory the Nativity story from Luke 2.

Kill the lights, pull the curtain. That’s not what we’re going to do. Despite our admiration for Linus and for Luke’s Gospel, that’s not what we need right now.

In research for this series, I came across a whole lot of horrible internet memes. One shows a bright Christmas star in white on a night sky blue background and says: “Christmas Joy versus Despair” and then it quotes from Luke 2 where the angel says, “Do not be afraid.” We’ll get to that eventually, but now is not the time. On such matters, the internet too often is like looking at “art” at Hobby Lobby. It will give you a saccharine headache.

Depression vs. despair

I mentioned the word “depression” earlier. There’s a sense in which depression could be the overarching banner of the four down under lessons of this series. But I don’t want to short-circuit our dive into these four specific words by merely blaming these feelings on depression.

An Australian therapist has offered this distinction between “despair” and “depression”:

Depression by clinical definition is “a period of two weeks or longer during which there is either a depressed mood, or loss of interest or pleasure that has at least four other symptoms that reflect a change in functioning, such as problems with sleep, eating, energy, concentration, and self-image.”

Depression is a very real, incredibly debilitating disorder that affects how people feel about themselves. It can last from a couple of weeks to months, even years. Untreated, it can lead to sleep disturbances, irritability and extremely low moods as well as a number of physical symptoms and complaints. An individual may find it difficult to get out of bed in the morning or not be able to get out of bed at all, lose interest in work, hobbies and social interactions. Living day to day becomes extremely difficult and in extreme cases, people may even contemplate suicide.

“Despair is also a very real, debilitating disorder.”

Despair is also a very real, debilitating disorder. It can be as debilitating as depression in many ways, however, despair differs in that an individual suffering despair is able to go about day to day tasks and can generally function quite normally. This doesn’t make it any less serious. When an individual is in despair, they are feeling a complete loss of hope, usually accompanied by desperation, anguish and sadness. People in despair may get up every day and go about their business, but there is no joy in life. No passion. Instead desperation, anxiety and hopelessness fill their day. Despair may come and go. Some days are good and generally an outing or event may lift despair temporarily, but in most cases, and without intervention, it returns and can quickly lead to depression.

Doctor Nando Pelusi wrote in Psychology Today on the topic of “Removing Despair from Depression.”

What we’re calling “despair” she sees as “the topmost layer of malaise,” which is “a blanket of depression about being depressed.” Despair may be a response to depression. We may become so depressed that we despair of any way out, of any better future. Despair could be the rock bottom of depression — yet as noted above, those who despair may be more functional in daily life than those who are diagnosed as depressed.

There’s a close link here with a term we throw about in theological discussion: Nihilism. Existential nihilism is the belief that life lacks purpose, value and meaning, which can lead to a sense of hopelessness and a question of why one should continue to live.

Our current despair

And here’s where this philosophy connects with so many of us this year: If there are no inherent moral or objective truths, we may conclude our existence is pointless, leading to an apathetic or despairing outlook.

This is the pit of despair I live in most days now. At first I thought it was depression, but now I realize it’s something more. I despair for the future of our nation and the Christian church because so many evangelicals have thrown out what we once thought were inherent moral or objective truths. None of that seems to matter to them anymore. And when the rest of us protest, we’re called crazy or deranged.

“The very ideals we were brought up in the church believing mattered most now do not matter at all.”

The very ideals we were brought up in the church believing mattered most now do not matter at all. Tearing apart families is OK. Telling lie after lie after lie is OK. Having extramarital affairs is OK. Cheating at business deals is OK. Calling people names is OK. Seeking revenge is OK. Taking food and medicine from other people is OK. Arresting innocent people is OK. Threatening to execute elected officials you don’t like is OK. Slaughtering people who are suspected of crimes but neither arrested nor investigated is OK.

All these things are real today. All these things happened this very week. And the evangelical church is OK with it all. No one raises an objection or seeks to defend the vulnerable.

This causes me to live with despair every day. It is hard to sing “Away in a Manger” when you know about 36% of the population would gladly slaughter Baby Jesus as an unregistered immigrant. This part of the Christian church has so lost the plot of the gospel that it makes me question whether any of the biblical story is true. I despair because the truths we once held dear have been sacrificed on the altar of evil by people who swear they’re the good guys.

If we’re to celebrate a “Holy Night,” why aren’t the lyrics ringing true: “Truly he taught us to love one another; his law is love and his gospel is peace. Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother, and in his name all oppression shall cease.”

The existential angst so many of us feel this Advent is laid on top of a host of pre-existing conditions: Financial despair, family despair, job despair, despair over physical limitations, despair over unresolved sexual orientations or gender identities — or both.

For a preacher to stand in the pulpit and quote the Psalms — “Hope in the Lord” — does no good. It appears as a farce.

What then are we to do without being sappy or stupid?

Acknowledge the problem

One of the first steps that’s meaningful to me is to acknowledge the problem. We’ve got to admit that those Hallmark Christmas movies are just that — movies. They are fiction, fantasy, idealism. They are not anyone’s reality.

Just at this time of year, we’ve become conditioned to believe the lie that fantasies are true. We fail to move out of childhood belief to adult thinking. It’s probably not going to snow on Christmas Day, no one is going to deliver a new Lexus to your driveway with a big red bow on top because this is “a December to remember,” and Santa Claus isn’t going to pay all your bills.

“Just at this time of year, we’ve become conditioned to believe the lie that fantasies are true.”

In the same way, we cannot force ourselves out of despair because everyone expects us to.

Irvin Yalom is an American existential psychiatrist and an emeritus professor of psychiatry at Stanford University. In 1980, he described four core existential givens that have become central to his approach to therapy: death, isolation, freedom, meaning. He was not the first person to name these themes; they have been addressed by philosophers and religious traditions for generations.

In existential therapy, these are called existential givens. Yalom says if you are having difficulties, you should consider which domains might be involved. Any of these four can lead to despair. For the extended example I gave earlier about our present American situation, it is despair over the threat to freedom.

Yalom and other existential therapists advise finding ways our suffering is connected to universal human challenges — to understand we aren’t alone in our struggles.

Finding validation

I’ve written before about going to the recent No Kings rally in downtown Dallas with my two best friends. One of them is full-blood Mexican and the other is half Mexican and half white. Both are terrified about the present situation, and both initially were afraid to go to the rally. One of them was so certain he might be arrested that he wrote contact names and phone numbers in Sharpie on both forearms.

Yet when we got to the rally, the most amazing thing happened. They immediately saw the crowd and the signs and realized they are not alone. They found instant validation that gave them new life.

Now let’s be clear here: Finding validation with a crowd who shares your beliefs can run both ways. An isolated Nazi may find validation upon walking into a crowded rally just as well.

That’s why it is not enough just to be validated — even though that’s extremely helpful.

A lesson from slavery

If “O Holy Night” is problematic for we who despair, a better solution might be found in “Sweet Little Jesus Boy,” a spiritual birthed amid the despair of American slavery.

Sweet little Jesus Boy, they made you be born in a manger.
Sweet little Holy Child, didn’t know who You was.

Didn’t know you come to save us, Lord; to take our sins away.
Our eyes was blind, we couldn’t see, we didn’t know who you was. …

The world treat you mean, Lord; treat me mean, too.
But that’s how things is down here, we didn’t know ’twas you. …

Just seem like we can’t do right, look how we treated you.
But please, sir, forgive us Lord, we didn’t know ’twas you.

The message of the New Testament is that “we are crucified with Christ, therefore we no longer live.” Perhaps the path out of despair is greater identification with the Suffering Servant “who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death — even death on a cross.”

A double ring

The Christian gospel has a double ring to it. We cannot know hope without knowing despair. Even the Christmas story — as adapted from the Hebrew Scriptures — shows us this. In Isaiah, we read: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness — on them light has shined.”

This was one of the first passages I learned to read in Hebrew in seminary. That Hebrew class was one of the times the Bible came to life for me — I think I was a less complex person then — and this passage made an indelible impression on me.

What I learned was that the word most often translated in English as “walked” (past tense) more literally should be translated as “walking” (present participle). It’s not just that “the people” had once walked in darkness but that they were walking in darkness. We are not alone. Others have walked — are walking — in darkness like us. In the darkness of despair.

For them — and for us — the hope is that a light will shine. It’s OK to be seekers, to be travelers, to be curious, to be looking for light.

 

This four-part series is adapted from lessons taught this year by the author in Discovery Class at Wilshire Baptist Church in Dallas. A video of the lesson may be viewed here.

 

Mark Wingfield serves as executive director and publisher of Baptist News Global.