All Christians

Marriage is one of God’s most sacred institutions, an earthly reflection of Christ’s love for the Church (Ephesians 5:25). And yet, even in Christian marriages, communication can break down. Many couples wrestle with misunderstanding, emotional distance, or unresolved conflict. The good news is that healthy communication is a skill that can be cultivated through biblical principles, therapeutic tools, and the power of the Holy Spirit. Two vital tools for growth in marriage are assertiveness and active listening, skills that promote both truth and grace.

Ministry and counseling are sacred callings, but they can also become heavy burdens. As Christian counselors and pastors, we are often on the frontlines of human suffering—grieving families, broken marriages, mental illness, crises of faith, and the daily needs of our congregations or clients. While we pour ourselves out for others, we may find our own emotional and spiritual reserves running dry. Two common outcomes of this imbalance are burnout and compassion fatigue. Though often used interchangeably, they are not the same and require different strategies for healing.

(Note: this idea was recently discussed on our newsletter to include some brain science about the topic and inspired this article. Go check out that specific article with the brain science here and sign up here to get all future newsletters.)

In today’s fast-paced world, it can be challenging to find moments of peace and rest. The demands of work, family, and daily responsibilities can leave us feeling drained, both mentally and spiritually. As Christians, we are called to live lives of balance and rest, drawing from the eternal well of God’s love and wisdom. In this article, we will explore ways to find rest and refresh our mental health and soul, guided by the timeless truths of Scripture.

“But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who belonged to their sect complained to his disciples, ‘Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?’ Jesus answered them, ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’” — Luke 5:30–32, NIV

This passage is one of the clearest revelations of Jesus’ heart for the hurting and the spiritually sick—and it’s a powerful challenge to the church today. As pastors, counselors, and spiritual leaders, our mission is not simply to maintain the health of the spiritually strong, but to step outside our comfort zones and minister to those who are wounded—especially those silently struggling with mental and emotional pain.

Pastor Chuck Smith, founder of the Calvary Chapel movement, offered timeless insight into this passage and how Jesus modeled ministry to the broken:

“Jesus went out where they were, met them on their own territory. He ministered to the sick—those who were sick spiritually. I think that oftentimes in the church we begin to make ourselves sort of sterilized hospitals. And we create almost a sterile environment, where if a sinner would come in he feels so totally uncomfortable, because we are all sitting here in our sterile robes of righteousness.”

“In England, we have a good friend Jim, who pastors a Calvary Chapel affiliate in the area of the northern part near Manchester. And Jim’s ministry is in the pubs. He goes down to the pubs three or four nights a week and has a tremendous ministry there in the pubs, witnessing to the people who are getting drunk. And he is an outstanding witness for Christ.”

“Oh, he gets a lot of flak from the other ministers in town because he spends so much time in the pub. But he is following the example of the Lord—going where they are at to reach them, and to bring them out.”

Chuck’s words speak directly to a growing issue in the modern church: our tendency to confuse spiritual maturity with spiritual insulation. We become so focused on maintaining holy spaces that we inadvertently push away those who most need Jesus—including those dealing with mental illness.

When Jesus says, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick,” He’s making it clear: ministry is not primarily for those who appear strong, but for those who are visibly or invisibly suffering. That includes people with depression, anxiety, PTSD, addiction, or the residue of deep trauma—those who often feel out of place in the modern church environment.

Jesus continually went toward those in pain, not away from them:

• He touched the leper (Luke 5:13) when others recoiled.
• He noticed the bleeding woman when others ignored her (Luke 8:43–48).
• He wept with Mary and Martha in their grief (John 11:35).
• He restored the demon-possessed man in the tombs—someone the community had completely given up on (Mark 5:1–20).

Jesus’ ministry was not sanitized. It was relational, incarnational, and often messy.

Let the Church Be a Real Hospital

Chuck Smith said it well—we often try to make the church a sterile hospital, forgetting that hospitals are supposed to be filled with the sick. When someone with mental health struggles walks into our churches, do they find compassion, or do they sense judgment? Do they feel safe enough to say, “I’m not okay”?

The church must recover its identity as a place of healing, not just of teaching. James writes:

“Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” — James 5:16a (NIV)

Healing comes in the context of community, humility, and mutual support—not isolation or silence. And that includes healing from the emotional and mental wounds that so many carry today.

Pastor, You Are a First Responder to Emotional Pain

As a Christian counselor, I often see that some of the most emotionally hurting people are those in leadership roles—pastors, elders, and ministry workers—who feel they must hold everything together. The truth is: you, too, are allowed to be human. Jesus Himself withdrew regularly to rest and pray (Luke 5:16). He lived with intentional rhythms of renewal.

Paul’s words in Galatians 6:2 are not a suggestion, but a command:

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

That includes carrying the burdens of those who are depressed, anxious, grieving, traumatized, or overwhelmed. And it includes giving others permission to help you carry yours.

A Challenge to the Church and Its Leaders

Chuck Smith’s commentary doesn’t just reflect an interpretation—it reflects a way of ministry rooted in Christ’s own actions. Like Pastor Jim in the pubs of Manchester, we need to step beyond stained glass and enter into the places where real pain lives.

The mentally ill aren’t “out there.” They’re already in your congregation. They’re sitting quietly in your Bible studies, leading your worship, volunteering in your children’s ministry—often hiding their suffering for fear they’ll be misunderstood.

We must change that.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18 (NIV)

So must we be.

Final Encouragement

Jesus didn’t heal every physical wound—but He made it clear that no soul was beyond His reach. And no mind is too broken to be seen by God.

Let your church be a place where the emotionally hurting find hope. Let your pastoral heart beat in rhythm with the Great Physician. And let your ministry reflect the Savior who said, “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”

That includes the anxious, the addicted, the traumatized, and the mentally unwell.

They are the ones Jesus came for.

In recent years, many pastors and Christian leaders have encountered heartbreaking conversations with congregants, youth and adults alike, who are struggling with self-harm. Behind the worship songs, Sunday smiles, and faithful service, some are silently suffering, using self-harm as what they feel is the only viable coping mechanism in the moment for their deep emotional pain. The question often arises in these sacred pastoral moments: Is self-harm a sin?

For many Christians, faith is the cornerstone of life—our anchor in the storm, our source of peace, and our hope for healing. So when emotional struggles arise, some may wonder: “Shouldn’t my faith be enough?” It’s a well-meaning question, but one that can unintentionally add guilt and confusion to an already difficult experience.

The truth is this: faith and therapy are not enemies. In fact, they can be powerful partners in the journey toward mental and emotional wholeness.

If you’re a Christian counselor seeking authentic community, biblical encouragement, and resources that speak to both the heart and mind of your work, I highly recommend taking a look at the Remnant Counselor Collective.

In A Walking Disaster, Dr. Jamie Aten offers a compelling memoir that blends personal testimony, psychological insight, and theological reflection. As both a disaster psychologist and a man who endured two major life crises—surviving Hurricane Katrina and later a battle with stage IV colon cancer—Aten writes not from theory but from lived experience. His journey through physical, emotional, and spiritual devastation makes this book a vital resource for Christian counselors, ministry leaders, and all believers seeking to understand the intersection of faith, suffering, and resilience.

In today’s world, conversations around mental health are more important than ever, especially within the Church. Many pastors, leaders, and congregations seek to understand how to respond with grace, wisdom, and practical support. At Church and Mental Health, we believe the Church has a decisive role to play in offering hope, breaking stigma, and promoting wellness in every area of life, including emotional and mental health.

That’s why we created the Church and Mental Health Newsletter—a curated email designed to keep you informed, encouraged, and equipped for this vital work.

In today’s world, mental health struggles are no longer hidden in the shadows—they’re part of daily life for many in our congregations. Yet, in too many churches, the stigma remains. People suffer in silence, unsure whether their church is a safe place to be honest about their mental health challenges. As pastors and church leaders, we are called to be shepherds—not only of people’s spiritual well-being but their whole person, including their emotional and mental health. Creating safe spaces within the church for these conversations isn’t just compassionate—it’s Christlike.