Finding Stories of Hope for Seasons of Despair
Scripture & the Challenge of Teen Suicide
By Eric Nelson
March 1, 2015 | At a recent meeting in Palo Alto, home to Stanford University and epicenter of Silicon Valley, a standing-room-only crowd gathered to figure out why, after years of effort, there still doesn’t seem to be any let up in the number of high school students choosing to take their own lives. Last fall, two suicides at Gunn High School continued what many parents see as a heartbreaking fatal response to performance pressures in school and online bullying.
“I know there’s an urge to blame,” said school superintendent Glenn McGee in an article reporting on the event. “I know there’s an urge to jump to solutions. We all want to solve this problem now. But it will require multifaceted solutions.”
Parents, teachers, students and school administrators all chimed in, suggesting everything from smaller class sizes to reducing the stigma surrounding mental illness to redefining the meaning of success. “We need to make it OK for students to receive a ‘C,’” said one student quoted in the same article. “A letter on a piece of paper should not determine who we are as individuals.”
Good ideas, one and all, each pinpointing the specific circumstances in the lives of teens that seem to overwhelm beyond psychological strength and spiritual hope.
“Spiritual hope.” The phrase seems almost quaint to many late modern ears. Yet, it seems clear that it is a particular quality of hope that is wanting in moments when life itself seems untenable, worthless — not merely the idea that academic or social pressures will let up, but the idea that the spirit of life itself will be redeemed and renewed, that there is richness and purpose beyond the present moment that draws, at least in part, from the struggles of particular episodes in life.
Too often, more spiritually oriented strategies that might ultimately have the greatest impact are left off the public agenda, either because they’re difficult to define in practical terms or they cross some perceived line of propriety.
Too often, though, more spiritually oriented strategies that might ultimately have the greatest impact are left off the public agenda, either because they’re difficult to define in practical terms or they cross some perceived line of propriety.
While there are those who feel that simply getting kids to show up at their local church, synagogue, mosque or even psychotherapist each week would do the trick, a more reasonable starting point might be for us to consider ourselves the lessons contained in any number of spiritual and religious texts — stories that have inspired healing responses to the world’s most significant and most intransigent problems, including suicide.
Take for instance the Bible story of the Prodigal Son, a young man who decided to leave home at an early age and blow his inheritance on “riotous living.” (We can only imagine what that might look like today.) Clearly this kid didn’t turn out how his father had hoped. Even so, when he decided he’d had enough of that lifestyle, his father welcomed him back with open arms.
Metaphorically speaking, this story illustrates the nature of God’s love for creation. Literally speaking, it provides us with a clear-cut illustration of how to love our own children — in a word, unconditionally. No matter what choices they make, no matter what grades they get, no matter which clubs they join or don’t join, no matter which college they choose, it is our job — and joy–to love them. Unconditionally.
Another illustration can be found in the story of Jairus, a man who was at a loss as to what he should do about his dying daughter. In his desperation he went to see Jesus. A short while later, one of this man’s friends came and told him that his daughter was already dead and that it was a waste of time to ask for Jesus’ help.
What was Jesus’ response? He said, “Fear not: believe only, and she shall be made whole.” The man did, and she was.
Most parents and many other adults who have significant relationships with children and teens have felt at a loss as to what we should do about a child facing some dire situation, maybe even on the verge of taking his or her own life. What are we to do? According to this account, the simplest and most obvious option is to appeal to God for help, to get down on our knees and say, “Tell me what to do. Show me what I need to see. Give me the ability to be what I need to be for this person.”
There are plenty of other stories, of course, both in the Bible as well as other sacred writings; stories that don’t require affiliation with a particular religion or devotion to a particular deity in order for us to benefit from their lessons. They’re also stories that needn’t be excluded from public discourse, especially when something as serious as a teen’s life is literally on the line. Some will agree with their message, some won’t, but this isn’t any different from agreeing or disagreeing to any other course of action.
Here’s the thing, though: as we have moved further and further away from religious faith in the wider culture, we’ve given up more than what many now see as counter-rational, counter-scientific claims. We’ve given up stories of healing and hope whose truths outstrip all of the important and necessary facts that have certainly contributed to life in many practical ways but which were never about replacing the sacred teachings, the deep insights into the mind of God, the spirit of life — the vast center and circumference of what we understand variously as the Divine.
In moments of profound and potentially life-threatening despair, we are least able to generate creative options. Without sacred stories already at hand, already in our hearts, we can find it impossible to access the spiritual imagination that is at the heart of hope.
In moments of profound, potentially life-threatening despair we are least able to generate creative options. Without sacred stories already at hand, already in our hearts, we can find it impossible to access the spiritual imagination that is at the heart of hope.
According to Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of the Christian Science Church, it’s our willingness to give up a limited outlook on life, to look at old problems from a new perspective, that enables the Bible to become “the chart of life, where the buoys and healing currents of Truth are pointed out” — for anyone, under any circumstance, regardless of faith. Indeed, giving up a sense of limitation in our ability to love, our ability to rely on a power outside ourselves for guidance, just may be the key to wiping out this problem of teen suicide once and for all.
It is, at least, a story I hope our children will be telling theirs as they look to the Scriptures to help them through their own challenges in the future.
Eric Nelson writes each week on the link between consciousness and health from his perspective as a practitioner of Christian Science. He also serves as the media and legislative spokesperson for Christian Science in Northern California. Read similar columns on his web site and follow him on Twitter @norcalcs.
Photos: “Girl In Nature Outdoors Autumn Lens Flare Sun Rays,” Public Domain Photos, March 17, 2014.
“Old Chalkboard Eagle Feather,” Public Domain Photos, March 28, 2014.
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