2025-08-11 00:00 UTC
I've been feeling better today. I was able to go to the gym and do my laundry. Overall, I feel like I'm out of depression once again. Now I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm happy, but I at least don't have any of the destructive looming side effects that come with depression like suicidal tendencies and fatigue and anhedonia and all that other classic stuff. I guess it's fair to say that I am more in a state of relief than anything else. I know it won't last, but at least I can relish in it for the time being.
I was reading this essay by David Bentley Hart earlier today about his secular nature despite being a theological scholar (yet refusing to call himself a theologian for some reason?) and overall deep entrenchment in the Christian church itself. Now, he made the point that he doesn't necessarily want to feel this way and doesn't promote other Christians to feel this way, but his perspective and experience really interested me. Also, his writing style is loquacious to the point where it feels like he's the final boss in my personal reading journey. But loquacious can be cool when it's done right and I think Hart does it well. Every word, even if it's baroque in nature, serves a purpose in a given sentence that expands the idea rather than fluffing it with nonsense. That's always a relief to read, especially considering how many thesaurus bros exist. But anyways, I was touched by the idea that I've seen before of long-standing Christians getting disillusioned by the faith and not feeling as attached to it as they used to. I remember reading about famous YouTube creators Rhett and Link announcing their deconstruction and saying that they would be in service and not "feeling it". In Hart's essay, he even makes the point that his two brothers still regularly engage in prayer and other church traditions while he remains unconvinced of its efficacy on his own spiritual well-being. He even states further that he feels a greater connection to more secular writers like Voltaire and Thomas Payne than he does with church fathers and saints.
Now, I don't think that there's anything wrong with appreciating any kind of great writing, whether it come from Voltaire or Saint Gregory Palamas. It's clear that writing itself is the single greatest invention of humanity and is an important part of being human, regardless of whether or not the reader agrees with whatever the author is trying to (or not to) espouse. But appreciating great writing is a different thing entirely from living in faith. Living in faith isn't about being in a constant state of theosis or always feeling connected to God—it's about having faith in spite of how one feels. In the same way that it's virtuous to work hard on secular pursuits, the same is generally true of faithful ones as well. Prayer gets us closer to God not as a means of changing our fate (doing so would challenge His sovereignty, which is heretical), but by changing ourselves and our hearts. Just like how it is with any skill, there's not a linear progression of improvement. Like life in general, prayer is a constant traversal of hills and valleys. Some days, we really do feel God's love in our hearts and will have the motivation to pray so that we can praise Him and be grateful. But there are many days where that love may not feel present in our hearts and prayer feels more like a chore than something restorative. But when prayer feels like a chore, that's when it becomes the highest and greatest form of prayer. It's also when it has the greatest chance to truly change our hearts and deliver repentance.
I'm no theologian or academic or any other kind of professional smart person, but through these reflections I hope to attain a greater understanding of what it means to really walk the path that God has set for me.