Following Jesus Wholly

Social expectations pressure us to stay positive, conceal problems, and stay productive no matter what. Even at church, we wear Sunday morning smiles even when we're falling apart inside. We're taught that strong Christians are always joyful, never angry or afraid, and trust God to overcome all problems. But we sense that 'good vibes' Christianity isn't what Jesus modeled.

To embrace the full range of our emotions as Jesus did, valuing these gifts from God as another means to experience God's care and become wholly restored to Christlikeness.

Conceal, Don't Feel

If my family had a crest, it would have the phrase "Conceal, don't feel" on it. Since I studied Latin in high school, I think it would be even better if our family crest read, "cela, noli sentire." It only makes sense to hide the meaning by writing it in another language.

I recently thought of our informal family motto as I went to a production of W;t by Margaret Edson. As I watched Vivian Bearing, the lead character, literally 'bear life' as she suffered through intensive chemotherapy, and die on stage, I wanted to weep. It's a deeply ironic name because in the play, instead of bearing children, her ovaries bear cancer. Her name also alludes to her increasingly desperate attempts to maintain her scholarly bearing. Part of the great sadness of the story is that Vivian's self-imposed academic stoicism keeps her from human connection.

The irony wasn't lost on me: even as I watched a woman suffer alone, in part because of her intense desire to control life, I stuffed back the tears to avoid exposing my vulnerable feelings in public.

When I was a campus minister at Harvard, I remember talking with a student who was going through crushing pain. As we sat together in a hidden alcove, he wept for nearly an hour. When I gently let him know that another student would likely arrive soon, I watched a reverse miracle instantly take place. In less than a second, he wiped his face clean, snapped a smile into place, and adjusted his body to look relaxed and confident. I had never seen anyone so quickly transform into an image of perfect success.

I later understood his experience when I read Martha Beck's memoir, Expecting Adam. As she describes taking care of her young child and simultaneously enduring what she calls the "Death Spiral" of her pregnancy, she explains why she suffered alone: "It never occurred to me to call anyone for help. First of all, I had long ago developed the habit of concealing all weakness from anyone around Harvard, and I never had the time to make friends away from the university" (45).

But how different are these experiences from those of many church attenders? Do we fight all the way to church and then scream at our kids, "Get your act together! Tuck in your shirt! Look good for God! Put a smile on that face, or you'll regret it!"

Week after week, the worship leader appears to be positively ecstatic to be singing hymns, the preacher is thrilled to preach the Scriptures, and even the announcement person is giddy with excitement to tell us about the new church communication app. There's little to no indication that they've ever missed a credit card payment, felt bad about their weight, or are still angry at their spouses.

It wasn't until I suffered debilitating spiritual abuse that I had to face my emotions. I was so frozen from the pain that, in desperation, I started to see a counselor. At one point, he asked me how I was feeling. In response, I asked him, "But what is an emotion? I don't even know what you're talking about." That's how disconnected my heart and mind had become. Thanks to his patient, caring help, I slowly came to realize that God designed all our emotions, even the uncomfortable ones, to help us navigate life in his loving presence.

While I had to learn these lessons the hard way, I later realized that the church's theologians have often insisted that emotions aren't a problem to manage, but essential to knowing God.

Unfortunately, this message has been obscured by widespread misunderstandings about what the Bible teaches. For instance, we know that one of the fruits of the Spirit is "self-control." But instead of self-control, we're often taught that godliness is emotional suppression. Instead of our lives being filled with and governed by God's love, we amputate our hearts.

Philippians 4:4 teaches us to "rejoice in the Lord always, I will say it again: rejoice!" For at least a decade, I considered this passage my "life verse," the one passage in the Bible that helped me feel closest to God. But at some point, I realized that I felt smothered by the obligation to always be happy. Any non-joyful emotion was repressed in favor of obedience to God's command.

In the early church, Augustine addressed the same challenge as he responded to the Stoics. To simplify, this ancient philosophical school taught that we could achieve the good life by eliminating our passions and living by reason alone. It's a view that goes by different names at different times, but persists in all cultures.

As he evaluated their teaching, Augustine explained that Christians, "do not so much ask whether a pious soul is angry, as why he is angry; not whether he is sad, but whence comes his sadness; not whether he is afraid, but what he fears. For I do not think that any right-minded person would condemn anger directed at a sinner in order to correct him; or sadness on behalf of one who is afflicted, in order to comfort him; or fear for one in peril, lest he perish" (City of God IX, 5).

Note that Augustine does not say that we should get rid of our emotions, but that God intends for our passions to orient us to the good life as it is revealed by God, our Creator. As Matthew Elliot explains in Faithful Feelings, "Where the Stoic idea of happiness was a life free from emotion, Paul's joy was an emotional celebration of God and his work of sharing the Gospel."

For me, the important change came as I immersed myself in the Psalms, which helped me realize that God delighted in the expression of all our emotions, not just the positive ones. I do rejoice in God, but this is compatible with anger over injustice, sadness amidst loss, and even fear when I'm in danger or disgust at what is evil. We know this is true because we see Jesus express these emotions in the Gospels!

In particular, we're told that Jesus felt anger, grief, sadness, compassion, fear, anguish, and grief (Mark 3:5, 11:34, John 11:33-35, Luke 22:44). In addition to the specific emotions that Jesus says he experiences, the stories about him reveal an emotionally mature person who is supernaturally attuned to his social environment and circumstances.

Further, the author of Hebrews assures us that "we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin" (Hebrews 4:15). So, we can be confident that humans can be fully emotional and still not sin.

Ultimately, emotions reveal what our hearts treasure. They are informational superhighways that attune us to reality, connect us to God and others, and ultimately, enable us to thrive. Try to imagine a community filled with love for God and others that is completely unemotional. Zombie Christianity is the opposite of the wholehearted renewal that God invites us to experience.

So, how does Jesus help us to experience emotional wholeness?

**First, emotions are information, not orders.** There's a difference between experiencing emotions and acting on them. For instance, Jesus felt the most intense anxiety about being crucified. But he still followed his Father's will. We remain attuned to what our emotions reveal, even as our responses are governed by the love and will of God.

**Second, emotions enable a relationship with God.** Just as Jesus prayed honestly to God, a practice firmly established in the Psalms, we also can tell God exactly how we feel. Whether we're angry, afraid, lonely, overwhelmed, or grieving, it is safe to share our hearts with God.

Likewise, **third, emotions enable relationships with others.** When we meet trustworthy, caring people, our friendships grow insofar as we can share our emotions with one another. God wants us to "rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep" (Romans 12:15). The point is that we are lovingly connected to one another across the entire emotional range of our lives.

So ultimately, **emotions are an indispensable means by which God makes us like Christ.** The Christian psychiatrist Curt Thompson explains that, "the flexibility of neuroplasticity is, in some respects, almost interchangeable with spiritual formation." As we are known by God and others, and see ourselves as they see us with love our bodies and souls are literally rewired as we are healed, renewed, and made whole.

Instead of being divided into fragmented pieces, disoriented by shame and guilt, angry when our selfishness is thwarted, and sad when we don't get our way, God invites us to be emotionally restored. Jesus intentionally, patiently, and gently invites us to know him, to give all of our sins to him, and to be so empowered by the Holy Spirit's loving presence that we wholeheartedly love God and others.

Inside Out

The 2015 Disney hit Inside Out tells the story of Riley, a happy-go-lucky Midwestern girl whose life is turned upside down by an unwanted move and the stresses of adolescence. While the move isn't specifically "Christian" and contains some elements contradictory to the Scriptural narrative, it faithfully reveals the importance and value of our emotions. If your conscience permits, watch it with a friend and then discuss it together.

Father, thank you for making me very well, in your image, with all my emotions. But I'm often afraid or unsure that I can be myself with you. It's hard to know if you will accept me, even when I'm angry, ashamed, guilty, or afraid. Help me to trust you with all of my heart. In the name of Christ, Amen.