Burnout Part I: He Tears Down the Mighty from their Thrones

Depression, a Spiritual Awakening, or Both?

He has torn down the mighty from their thrones

and exalted those of humble estate…

(Luke 1:51–52)

Last week, I asked a friend what he thinks God is doing in his life. He said, “dethroning the idols in my heart.” Immediately, I thought of Mary’s song, and saw it in a new light. I usually think of the “mighty” as systems of power that oppress. But I had never seen how it also refers to the way those systems and their idols take up residence inside of me. God is tearing down the mighty things in me from their thrones—the things that have seemed so big and so important, but which have really become tyrants.

And hallelujah! He is also lifting up those things of humble estate—the lowly things in me, the neglected, despised, childlike, vulnerable, tender things…the things I have oppressed and suppressed, which now are crying out to be heard.

Here, I’m going to share about what it’s meant to see the mighty things torn down from their thrones.

Honestly, it’s really sucked.

About six weeks ago, I hit a point of burnout as my dissertation defense, a book launch, a family trip, and ongoing health issues collided in the space of a week. Ever since then, I’ve been simplifying my life as much as possible to leave space for prayer and rearrangement of priorities. My godfather says that it’s only when we wake up at 3 AM that we know what we really believe, and my 3 AMs have had me flipping through the various aspects of my life and future possibilities, feeling pretty unmotivated and unenthused about all of them.

And yet, I’m rolling out of bed at a reasonable time, and going about the day’s tasks with greater dedication than ever.

Depression, a spiritual awakening, or both? Only God knows.

Immediately after my defense, I realized several things: one was that I really could not care less if I earn a PhD or not, or if my “voice” is “important” for the academy, like my examiners claimed. My only desire at that moment was to disappear to a small village in Thailand and never be seen or heard from again.

And immediately I wondered, why??? Where on earth is this coming from? I quickly saw that the problem wasn’t with being told I’m “important,” but with the tyranny of living up to other people’s ideas of “importance” in my life. In so many ways, that’s what I had been doing, and I was utterly spent. I gave my last effort to the defense, and I had nothing left to give—not even to be happy.

And I’d already begun to doubt all of these ideas people have about “importance” anyway. I had come to see so many ideas of meaning and glory as games of image, which may or may not have anything to do with real life. We fight for prestige and status. For the sake of an image in the standards of other humans, people will sacrifice so much—even human life. But then, what do you have? All you have is an image built on Monopoly money, in a system which will one day come to an end—an idol which in itself has no life, but actually steals Life away, as Isaiah says (44:1-20).

In fact, when people asked me “What will you do with your PhD?” I had already for some time been giving the (somewhat sarcastic) reply “Respect people less for respecting me more!” And yet, in so many ways I now recognize how I’ve been trying to prove to people that my degree is “worth it,” that my work and ministry matters, and ultimately, that I’m worth it.

Then a couple of weeks ago I suddenly realized that I don’t want to be important, wise, strong or eloquent. I asked myself, “What if I were insignificant, foolish, weak, and bumbling? What if I had nothing at all to offer anyone except love?” And I realized, “I never wanted to be loved for all of those things anyway…so why am I fighting so hard for them? Doesn’t everyone really want to be loved just for who they are in their most vulnerable self?”

And then I thought of this quote from Henri Nouwen: “The Christian leader of the future is called to be completely irrelevant and to stand in this world with nothing to offer but his or her own vulnerable self.”

This quote has troubled me for some years. It strikes me as true, and yet I haven’t been able to see exactly how. But this time it hit me—who would ever describe love as either “relevant” or “irrelevant”? Love cannot even be described in those terms. It is not less than relevancy—it’s so much more. And if I am loved and capable of loving, and exist purely because of God’s love, then I’m so much more too.

And if I speak in the tongues of men and angels, and have all wisdom, and faith to move mountains…if I have a PhD, but have not love, I have nothing. I’m only another noisemaker in the echo chamber of church and scholarship, and I might as well use my diploma as toilet paper.

Because in the end, I don’t want love and acceptance that is gained from all of those things. I want love that’s freely given, received as a gift beyond my control or my ability. I want to have the purity of heart to see God’s love in all the myriad ways He is revealing it every day. I want to believe that I’m worthy of that, and live as though that is true.

And above all, I want to listen to the cries of the humble and lowly things in me which I have neglected and oppressed. More on that in Part II.