Depression is not a failure of faith; it is a lived experience. Scripture can offer us radical accompaniment in our suffering and the quiet assurance that we are seen, even when we cannot smile.
A vocational reflection by James Gordon Reid Haveloch-Jones.
“My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word.” (Psalm 119:28).
Depression is not a failure of faith; it is a lived experience that Scripture neither pathologises nor romanticises.
As a chorister at Westminster Abbey, one of our rare treats was watching The Simpsons. The show often portrayed Christians as perpetually smiling, emotionally robotic, and materially successful. Living in a world where faith meant warm feelings and a nuclear family in a cheerful church.
For a child immersed in sacred music and liturgical cadence, this felt quietly dissonant. It suggested faith was a performance of happiness, not a sanctuary for ache. Yet for many—including those navigating depression—this portrayal is deeply inauthentic. Mental health struggles are often compounded by financial constraints and personal grief. In today’s tough climate, these burdens are largely beyond our control.
Scripture does not promise uninterrupted joy. It offers something far more radical: accompaniment in suffering, dignity in ambiguity, and the quiet assurance that we are seen, even when we cannot smile.
The Sermon on the Mount radically inverts cultural assumptions. The translation “happy are those who mourn” is almost comical—if it weren’t so tragic. A friend of mine recently lost his mother, for whom he was the sole carer. His grief is sacred, not inconvenient, and he is most certainly not up for a laugh!
The Greek word ‘makarioi’—often rendered “blessed”—reassures us that those who mourn are seen and honoured by God. The Beatitudes are not a call to emotional denial; they are a liturgical affirmation of lived experience.
Depression, grief, and psychological torment are not signs of spiritual failure. Jesus sweated blood in Gethsemane. His suffering was not performative, it was prophetic. Christians must be able to feel what they need to feel, and know, deep, deep down; that Jesus walks with them in that suffering.
In Pagan Greece, prosperity was seen as divine favour. Jesus radically inverts this: “Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither thief can steal nor moth destroy.” (Matthew 6:20). Luke 6:21 echoes this: “Blessed are those who weep now, for you shall laugh.” Jesus does not ask for worldly success—He asks for faithfulness. From a worldly perspective, Jesus Himself was not “successful.” He was an itinerant preacher, executed by the state, who said: “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” (Luke 9:58)
Yet His life, death, and resurrection reshaped salvation history. So even if you do not have an Aston Martin, a big bank balance, or a nuclear family, this does not tarnish your worth in the eyes of God.
At Cardinal Hume’s funeral, Bishop John Crowley recalled one of the Cardinal’s favourite passages from St. Paul: “He chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.” (1 Corinthians 1:27). Jesus has a particular heart for the marginalised—for those who feel powerless, depressed, or forgotten. Christian life is not about feeling happy and certainly not about pretending to. Emotional authenticity is not a threat to faith; it is its foundation.
Micah 6:8 asks: “What does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.” There is no mention of forced cheerfulness. Instead, we are invited into justice, mercy, and humility—postures that make space for sorrow, ambiguity, and quiet endurance.
In sacred space, Christians must be allowed to feel what they need to feel. Depression, grief, and emotional complexity are not spiritual failures—they are part of the walk. Jesus does not ask us to smile through suffering. He asks us to walk with Him in it.
James Gordon Reid Haveloch-Jones is a British educator, mentor, and author of The Gold Standard: Coaching for Excellence.
Available to buy here: Gold Standard Coaching for Excellence.
His work spans elite institutions and grassroots outreach, blending ceremonial experience — from Westminster Abbey to global musical venues — with transformative coaching.
