Hope for a Hurting Peter Pan

In a matter of minutes, we lost the man who anchored many of our childhood (and adult) imaginations.

We lost “The Pan”.

We lost “Mrs. Doubtfire”.

We lost “John Keating”.

We lost “Reverend Frank”.

We lost “The Genie”.

There are many things that could be said regarding this tragedy, but what should be said?

Now is not the time for scathing rhetoric on how suicide is a choice. Yes, great job Matt Walsh. You observed something a 6-year-old gets and touted it as some novel discovery.

Now is also not necessarily the time for euphemistic quips about “freedom” or “peace”. Theologically speaking, death apart from Christ is neither peaceful nor free.

Nevertheless, a little imagination might afford each of us the proper things to speak in this situation.

Imagine feeling empty.

Imagine feeling not just empty, but dry.

So dry that your heart could shatter almost instantaneously if provoked.

Imagine feeling boxed in with no one to turn to.

Imagine feeling that box squeezing down around you.

So constrained that your body is hardly mobile.

Imagine aching from the deepest part of your inner life.

Imagine that same ache, but with no outlet for release.

Maybe imagining a minute-to-minute existence in this state will get us all a little bit closer to understanding how The Pan felt in his final moments.

As I’ve been reflecting on this broken situation, I can’t help but think a few different thoughts.

1) Though robust fulfilling life is available to all, it is not appropriated by all (for various reasons).

Jesus said that he has come to bring life (abundant life even!), but I’m reminded of numerous people in the Gospel writings who were offered the life-giving message of Christ and (for whatever reason) decided not to accept it. This truth shouldn’t surprise Christians. Of course there are people who reject the “complete package” of Christianity.

A more confusing issue, however, are those who DO accept the abundant life offered by Jesus and then find themselves struggling with depression and/or having suicidal thoughts. What’s gone wrong here?

It seems to me that it does no good to simply assert that people will never be tempted beyond what they can bear. Yes, that’s a truthful assertion made in Scripture.

However, that truthful assertion made in Scripture needs to be paired up with the truthful assertion made by an individual’s struggle. The truth of Scripture meets the truth of a person’s situation.

It is only at these crossroads that a pastoral, gentle understanding of Gospel truth can make any sense in the real world.

The truth of the matter is that depression and other psychological/“soulish” maladies are complicated, multi-source phenomena. These are not matters to be glossed over with light platitudes or ripped apart with ferocious prose.

Certainly the God of Scripture can speak into these maladies and bring healing and hope, but whether or not that is appropriated and/or how it is appropriated is another matter.  

2) Christians should be more attentive to “absorbing” the pain/sadness/maladies around them.

Depression (and it’s sometimes nasty consequences) is a terrifying and painful thing to experience. Call it a disease. Call it a choice. Call it whatever you want – it’s horrible.

So what did our great example (Jesus) do with the horrible, pain-saturated world around him?

He absorbed it all.

Ultimately, he completely absorbed it in his sacrificial death as he took away the sins of the world. But he also absorbed the profound brokenness of an off-kilter world.

He absorbed the pain and brokenness of a woman who had bled for years and years.

He absorbed the pain and brokenness of a mother who lost her child.

He absorbed the pain and brokenness of a demon-possessed child.

In some real way, by using his physical body and touching people, Jesus took upon himself to bring healing and hope to those he crossed paths with.

The Scripture makes it clear that we are now Jesus’ body in the world (i.e. the body of Christ). I’m convinced that means that we should be about the business of absorbing the pain around us. We’re messengers of hope, right? I’m not saying we should adopt some odd “savior-complex” where we try to fix everything around us. But I am saying that our eyes and ears should always be attentive to those around us in order that we (as Jesus’ body) might bring life to a hurting world.

3) It’s fair to accompany grief with fond memories.

Grieving for the loss of another is always a delicate process. With the passing of Pan many of us are in that grieving process – even if we didn’t know him personally.

And I think it’s ok to celebrate his influence on our life. For many of us, we can’t separate his shenanigans from our childhood. He made us laugh and helped us imagine the world in a different way.

It’s worth bringing up these fond memories. To not do so would be a great shame.

So, I do grieve the passing of Robin Williams.

But I also remember his goofy smile and quick wit.

I remember his heartfelt devotion to his craft.

I remember his many successes (most of which are downstairs in my DVD drawer).

Furthermore, I pray.

I pray that the mercies of Christ’s grace and love were appropriated to him at some point. I pray that somewhere in his darkest moments Jesus met him and held him and offered him life.

I only wish that I could have been the hands of Jesus to him and offered him a comforting hug and words of hope and life.