So many “diseases” have only come into being in the twentieth century, many of them, in fact; since the end of World War II. It is very common for us to hear today about ADD, ADHD, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Bipolar disorders etc. that have not been around for long. Now I know that the argument is that they have been around a long time, we were just not able to understand what they were. That is an argument that can be made but it at least begs the question of the evolution of intellect. That argument requires us to assume that we are more insightful in our understandings than we once were. Look at our culture and you will be hard-pressed to make that conclusion make sense to almost anybody. I am not arguing and would not that some of these “diseases” are real; what I would argue is that they are as much caused by and conditioned by our culture than they are chemically constructed. It is arguable that we are not born with them nor genetically programmed to “get” them as much as they get us due to the kind of contexts in which we live out our lives.

One “disease” that has been around a long time, however, is what the Puritans called “spiritual depression” and the ancient desert fathers referred to it as the “dark night of the soul.” What both assumed was its reality and its spiritual character. They did not see it as a condition to be cared for medically; they saw it as a “disease” of the spirit that could only be treated by spiritual means. Its symptoms included a sense of despair that would not dissipate and a sense of dread that would not depart. It caused people either to want to sleep and sleep or not to sleep at all. People in the desert or dark night were without a clear sense of direction. And there was definitely an absence of joy. These ancients knew that this condition could leave as suddenly as it came or it could tarry for days or weeks. But they knew that the remedy was from the Spirit of God through the Word of God. And they knew that such a dark night could even be a gift from God.

As a pastor I often find myself fighting spiritual depression the week after Easter. That Sunday is hard for me. As filled with joy as it is because of what we are celebrating, it is equally filled with grief for me because of what I see. I see people in church that Sunday that I most likely will not see again until next Easter. There they sit: unmoved and unmoveable. They sing the songs, close their eyes during the prayers, and listen politely during the preaching. They come in unsaved and walk out the same way. My heart is conflicted. I rejoice over the great celebration; I grieve because those who joined the celebration that day unless they repent will be outside the wedding feast on the last and great day. The end result for me is that usually by Tuesday of the day after Easter, I hit the skids! I plunge to the pit. I am drug down into despair. I was there last night and this morning. I did not want to rise today. I had the “mully grubs.” But I knew what to do.

So, I sought the Lord and He heard my cry. I read the Word and He did draw nigh. I sat before Him to seek His face, He lifted me up and He brought me His grace. Oh, the dark night is Satan’s ploy, but the risen Jesus lifts the veil, and brings me His joy. I may not dance nor sing for a day, but He lifts me up and sets me on His way. He is a great God and a mighty King, Hallelujah to Him, Let His praises ring. So, when you are in the night and cannot sleep, your heart is heavy so that your eyes do weep; look up toward heaven and wait before the Lord, Open the Bible and listen for His Word. He will come to you; He will not fail; He will bring you what you need when upon His Name you call. Dark nights become bright lights when the Lord breaks through.

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