When we despair and can’t see God, our identity in Christ—and God’s love for us—remains untarnished. The gospel promises not freedom from pain but an abundantly more precious gift: the assurance of God’s love, which prevails over sin and buoys us through the tempests.

Sarah, a faithful Sunday school teacher who enthralls kids with stories about God’s goodness, misses several weeks of church. When friends reach out, she admits she’s tired, but she offers little other explanation and excuses herself from conversations. Loved ones observe that she seems withdrawn, as if a light within her has gone out.
Then Sarah suddenly resigns from teaching Sunday school. Though at first she’s reticent to admit her struggles, she eventually confides she’s overwhelmed with despair, can’t concentrate, and no longer finds joy in the things she loves. She fears that her inability to overcome her depression with prayer and Bible study disqualifies her from teaching children Scripture. “How can I teach about God’s love when I can’t feel it myself?” she says through tears. “I know the gospel, yet I can’t pull myself out of my sadness. I’m a hypocrite.”
Sarah’s doctor has prescribed an antidepressant, but she feels deep-seated shame that she needs medication for a spiritual matter. The longer Sarah talks, the more her thoughts turn toward her doubts about whether God hears her prayers for relief, whether he loves her, and whether she can be a Christian if she’s wrestling through the darkness of depression.
What does depression have to do with Sarah’s faith? How might we help Sarah understand her depression biblically?
False Impressions About Depression
Sarah’s initial reluctance to divulge her depression stemmed in part from a perceived stigma against mental illness in her church. She recalled one occasion when a church leader said, “Depression isn’t an issue for Christians.” On another occasion, a member of her small group questioned how anyone who knew the gospel could struggle with grief and sadness.
Unfortunately, Sarah’s experience isn’t unique. On top of the burdens of despondency, hopelessness, and guilt that sufferers of depression already shoulder, too often interactions with those in the church cement their fears about inadequate faith.
Pastor Zack Eswine writes about this tendency: “In the eyes of many people, including Christian people, depression signifies cowardice, faithlessness, or a bad attitude. Such people tell God in prayer and their friends in person that the sufferer of depression is soft or unspiritual.”
Such misconceptions about suffering’s role in the Christian life can dissuade those with depression from seeking help. In some cases, theological misunderstandings or unrepentant sin may indeed contribute to depression, as was true in my case. Cultivating a deeper and more robust understanding of God’s attributes offered an anchor that was crucial to my recovery. But spiritual factors don’t mean depression and faith are mutually exclusive.
More Biblical Perspective
On the contrary, Scripture teaches us that discipleship is costly; that sin still ravages the world; that deep, penetrating pain exists (even for believers); and that God works through such pain for good.
Understanding these truths can guide sufferers back to their hope in Christ when they need it most. In Sarah’s case, a gradual and careful walk through Scripture with compassionate church leaders was life-giving. As she wrestled to see the realities of her depression through a biblical lens, Sarah learned to trust God’s sovereignty and mercy, to express her despair through lament, and to lean on the church for support.
Here are some themes from Scripture that may offer solace, understanding, and hope to those who suffer from depression. A biblical understanding of suffering—and the truth that even those with strong faith can flail in the darkness—can alleviate false guilt, encourage counseling, and ease a sufferer back toward the light.
1. Trials will come.
Christ triumphed over death (1 Cor. 15:55; 2 Tim. 1:10), and when he returns, all its wretched manifestations will wash away (Isa. 25:7–8; Rev. 21:4–5). But for now, we live in the wake of the fall, in a world where sin corrupts every molecule, cell, and wayward breeze (Rom. 8:19–22). Jesus warned us that tribulation and persecution would follow his disciples into the world (Matt. 16:24–25; John 1:10–11; 15:20; 16:33), but in the good news of salvation he provides, he also gives us living hope (1 Pet. 1:3–5), a sturdy limb to which we can cling when storms assail us.
Read More
Related Posts:

Jesus is first shown to be majestic and mighty. He is king, ruler, the Lion. He is sovereign, and fulfills our longings for greatness, for a ruler strong and mighty to impress us with power and win our trust and protect us and provide for us and give us life. But we long not only for a great human king. We long for God himself. And this Lion of Judah is not just Messiah, a human king. He is God himself.

One of the reasons that we love Jesus is his paradoxes.
In Jesus in particular, we see realities come together that our human instincts do not expect to be together, and then we see, with surprise and delight, that they do indeed fit together, contrary to our assumptions — and it makes our souls soar with joy.
The beautiful paradoxes of Christ expose our false and weak and small expectations. They remind us that we did not design this world. We do not run this world. And we did not design God’s rescue of us. And we cannot save ourselves, but God can — and does, in the Word made flesh.
As Christians, we confess that Jesus is Lord. That is, he is fully God. He is the towering, all-knowing, all-wise, all-powerful God. As God, he formed and made all things, and every knee will bow, and every tongue confess, that Jesus is Yahweh — the sacred old-covenant name of God revealed in Exodus. Jesus is creator, sustainer, supreme Lord of heaven and earth, almighty in power, infinite in majesty, our Lord and our God.
And we confess that Jesus is our Savior. Without ceasing to be God, Jesus took our full humanity: flesh and blood, human body and reasoning soul, with human mind and emotions and will, and with all our lowliness and ordinariness. Jesus had a normal Hebrew name: Yeshua, Joshua. In the incarnation, he added to his eternal divine person a full and complete human nature and came among us, as one of us, to save us.
So, Jesus is glorious as sovereign Lord, and Jesus is glorious as our rescuing, self-sacrificing Savior. And we come to Revelation 5 to linger in the paradox and beauty of majesty and meekness, of might and mercy, of grandeur and gentleness, in this one spectacular person.
Our Longings Met in Jesus
In verse 1, the apostle John looks and sees — in the right hand of God, the one seated on heaven’s throne — “a scroll written within and on the back, sealed with seven seals.” These are the eternal and hidden purposes of God to be unfolded in history, the mystery of his manifold wisdom to be revealed in the fullness of time, judgments against his enemies and salvation for his people in the coming chapters of Revelation. Centuries before, God had said to his prophet (in Daniel 12:4), “Shut up the words and seal the book, until the time of the end.” Now the sealed scroll is in the hand of God, in full view of all of heaven, ready to be unsealed.
John is riveted. He wants to know what’s in the scroll. What mysteries does God have to reveal? What wisdom of God, what purposes for history, might now be made known in this scroll? Then John hears in verse 2 “a mighty angel proclaiming with a loud voice, ‘Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?’”
Now, at this point, it might be tempting to run right through verses 3 and 4 and miss the weight of this moment in heaven. Not so fast. This is what the seasons of Advent and Lent are for: to slow down and feel the weight in the waiting. Instead of racing ahead to Christmas, or Easter, we prepare our hearts by pausing to feel some of the ache of what God’s people felt for centuries as they waited for the promised Messiah. Or the horror and utter devastation of what his disciples felt in the agony of Good Friday and in what must have seemed like the longest day in the history of the world on Holy Saturday. The pause, the waiting, helps us see and enjoy the risen Christ as the supreme Treasure he is.
So, the angel asks, “Who is worthy to open the book?” And verse 3 says, “No one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or to look into it.” No one in heaven. None of the four great creatures around the throne. None of the angelic elders who lead in worship. None of the angels, in all the heavenly host. Not Gabriel. Not Michael. And get this: not even the one sitting on the throne opens the scroll. Not the Father. Not the Spirit. So, heaven waits.
And if no one in heaven, then of course no one on the earth or under the earth. None living or dead is worthy to open God’s scroll. Mere humans like us are not worthy to unveil his great mystery. And so, heaven waits. “No one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or to look into it.”
Weep No More
John begins to weep, loudly. Perhaps he even wonders, What about Jesus? Verse 4: “I began to weep loudly because no one was found worthy to open the scroll or to look into it.” John doesn’t tell us how long he wept, but mercifully, the announcement soon came.
In verse 5 — what an amazing moment — one of the elders turns to John and says,
Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.
So, now through the lens of verses 5–6, let’s look together at three aspects of the longing and aches of our souls fulfilled in Jesus, our Treasure.
1. We Long for Majesty and Might
We long to see and admire and benefit from greatness. And the voice rings out in verse 5, “Behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered.”
“Lion of Judah” signifies that this is the long-promised king of Israel, the Messiah. In Genesis 49, as the patriarch Jacob neared death, he prophesied over each of his twelve sons, and said to Judah that his tribe would produce the nation’s kings.
Read More
Related Posts:

Esau had his mind firmly fixed upon the things of the world rather than the things of God, and that is the road to apostasy for both individuals and congregations. In a way, Esau embodies all three of the dangers listed in verses 15-16. He failed to obtain God’s grace because of his apathy to the blessings of God. He was also a bitter root among God’s covenant family. His unholy life broke the peace within his family. Of course, there are certainly far greater sinners found within the Scriptures, but the reality is that most people will not fail to enter the kingdom of God because of how heinous and outrageous their sins were. Like Esau, they will fail to obtain God’s grace simply because they are secular and worldly, striving for neither peace nor holiness. 

Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed. Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no “root of bitterness” springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled; that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal. For you know that afterward, when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears.
Hebrews 12:12-17 ESV
Our first introduction to Abraham is when God calls him to leave the country of his father to walk by faith to a land that God will give to him and his descendants. That was a walk of faith in every way because Abraham wasn’t told which land was going to be his and he did not yet have even single son to be his first descendent. Of course, God proved Himself faithful and gave Abraham a son, Isaac. When Isaac was grown, God gave the same promised blessing to him that He had given to Abraham, and though Isaac’s wife, Rebekah, was barren, Isaac prayed and God gave them twins. The older twin was Esau, and the younger was Jacob.
Once when Jacob was cooking stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was exhausted. And Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stew, for I am exhausted!” (Therefore his name was called Edom.) Jacob said, “Sell me your birthright now.” Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” Jacob said, “Swear to me now.” So he swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob. Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.
Genesis 25:29-34
The story of Esau continues on in Genesis 27, where Jacob disguises himself as his brother Esau in order to trick Isaac into blessing him. Jacob’s blatant deception and Esau’s pitiful tears can easily leave us confused as to who we are meant to be supporting. Indeed, the remainder of their stories can be just as confusing. Although Esau is not mentioned much more, he evidently went on to be great and prosperous, enough at least to have four hundred men at his command and for chiefs and kings to descend from him. Meanwhile, Jacob’s life was a perpetual struggle and striving with both God and men, and though his son Joseph was the right-hand of Pharaoh, his descendants quickly became a nation of slaves for four hundred years. While Jacob wrestled, Esau prospered. While Jacob’s descendants were enslaved, Esau’s descendants reigned as kings in their own land. Was God vindicating Esau? Was He punishing Jacob? In Malachi 1:2-3 God gives us an answer: “Yet I have loved Jacob but Esau I have hated.” Indeed, God’s disciplining hand upon Jacob and his descendants was a sign of God’s fatherly love for them, while Esau’s being left to his own devices was proof of God’s hatred for him.
In our present passage, the author of Hebrews pulls the racing imagery from 12:1 and the goodness of God’s discipline together to give us this exhortation: our race of faith can only be run with endurance by striving against our sin and for peace and holiness. In verses 12-13, the author recalibrates us to the marathon metaphor, encouraging us to wrestle together against our sin and against growing weary and fainthearted. Verse 14 is the heart of our passage, commanding us to strive for peace and for holiness. Verses 15-16 provide three dangers that will hinder our peace with others and holiness before God, jeopardizing our entire race of faith. Finally, verse 17 concludes with the warning example of Esau, who did not strive for peace and holiness but despised his inheritance of Abraham’s blessing.
Make Straight Paths for Your Feet: Verses 12–13
Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.
The word therefore is our signal that the author is building directly upon his previous thought. Indeed, he is now reaching back to verse 1 and making an exhortation for us. In verses 1-3, the author painted the Christian life of faith as marathon, a race that necessitates much endurance. In verses 4-11, he then presented the bitter yet beautiful truth of God’s loving hand of discipline upon His children. Here the author brings those two ideas together by returning to the imagery of a marathon and exhorting us to run in a manner that displays that we have been disciplined.
Drooping hands and weak knees ought to make us think of a weary runner who looks as though he will collapse at any minute, failing to reach the finish line. This imagery comes from Isaiah 35:3, which reads: “Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees.” The following verse notes that these are “those who have an anxious heart” and gives them this encouragement: “Be strong, fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you” (Isa. 35:4).
Is that not the message that the author of Hebrews has also been making to his readers? He has been exhorting them to endure in faith and not to shrink back in fear. He has called them to behold Christ, to fix their eyes upon the salvation that He has accomplished for them in His first coming and that He will consummate upon His second coming. Thus, by drawing from this verse in Isaiah 35, the author is telling them again to consider Jesus and to hold fast to the confession of hope that they have in Him.
For those who are already growing weary and fainthearted, keeping to straight paths makes a collapse far less likely. This imagery is drawn from Proverbs 4:26-27, though the whole section (beginning with verse 20) ought to resonate with what Hebrews has been teaching:
My son, be attentive to my words;incline your ear to my sayings.Let them not escape from your sight;keep them within your heart.For they are life to those who find them,and healing to all their flesh.Keep your heart with all vigilance,for from it flow the springs of life.Put away from you crooked speech,and put devious talk far from you.Let your eyes look directly forward,and your gaze be straight before you.Ponder the path of your feet;then all your ways will be sure.Do not swerve to the right or to the left;turn your foot away from evil.
Dennis Johnson notes:
Such paths will keep what is lame from being twisted—in two ways. First, on such paths the lame will not be “put out of joint,” twisted to the point of dislocation, but rather will be “healed.” The verb rendered “put out of joint” (ektrepo) often describes straying “off course” from the way that leads to life (1 Tim. 1:6; 5:15; 2 Tim. 4:4). Hebrews adjusts the wording of Proverbs 4:26 LXX, changing the number of the verb “make straight” and the of the possessive pronoun “your” from singular to plural, transforming a father’s advice to an individual son into an exhortation to an entire congregation. When Christians are spiritually weak (drooping hands, feeble knees) or disabled (lame), fellow believers must gather around them, clearing away obstacles and pointing them straight ahead to the finish line.[1]
Strive for Peace & Holiness: Verse 14
In verse 14, the author gives us a twofold command that forms the essential means of accomplishing verses 12-13: Strive for peace with everyone, and for holiness without which no one will see the Lord.
First, we should consider the principal command: strive. This is a fitting word to use, since no marathon can be completed without much striving. Likewise, it should also remind us of 12:4, which said that our race is also a “struggle against sin.” Like Jacob, who strove with God and with men (Genesis 32:28), so is the life of all God’s children one of striving. It is all too common to find parents who spoil their children, claiming that they love them too much to discipline them. Proverbs 13:24 calls that hatred rather than love: “Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.” Our Father is too loving to tolerate spoiled children; therefore, painful though it may be, He is diligent to discipline us. And we ought to be active in learning from His discipline, striving forward in the faith.
Yet while Jacob’s life was a striving with God and with men, the author of Hebrews is calling us to strive against our own sin so that we may have peace with men and the holiness before God. It is right that the author would connect these two, for our vertical relationship with God is always bound intimately with our horizontal relationship with our neighbors, both Christian and non-Christian. We see this in the two greatest commandments. Love God and love your neighbor. The two are bound together, for we cannot properly love our neighbor without first loving God and we do not truly love God if we do not also love our neighbor. Likewise, Jesus places these two ideas side-by-side in the Sermon on the Mount, saying, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God” (Matthew 5:8-9).[2] Even so, let us view them briefly one at a time.
Read More
Related Posts: