There have been few times when I feared for my life—I mean really feared for my life. I remember one time more than any other. It was the day that I found Angie, my sister, with a gun in a hotel room. It was a miracle that I found her before she had a chance to use it on herself. On the way home in my car, I drove as my sister cried. It was not a sad cry of repentance but a cry of anger and despondence. Her dejection and frantic embitterment caused me to lock the doors so that she would not jump out of the car while driving. “Why did you come?” She screamed at me.” Don’t you understand? I have to die!” I tried to stay silent and concentrate on the road. It was not safe on I-35 that day. I imagined her reaching over and pulling the steering wheel sending us both into an overpass. I really thought that she would. I tried to fight back the tears as her pain created great empathy for her death. By this time in the story, I almost wished that I had not found her. I almost wished that I let her take her life.

This was the argument that she had made to me many times over. “Michael, no one will care. . . . At least everyone will soon get over it. All of your lives will return to normal soon. But my pain will be over.” We, my mother and sisters, would try to respond telling her that the pain that she has now will be multiplied to all of us if she were to die. “Is that what you really want?” we would ask. She did not believe us.

Suicide is a form of death that cannot be likened to any other. There are many tragic ways to die, but to be at a point where one is willing to take their own life—when the fear of living becomes greater than the fear of death—has no comparison. To have a loved one who commits suicide produces sadness, pain, and guilt that rivals the pain of the one who commits it. “What did I do wrong?” “Why couldn’t I save her?” “Why couldn’t it have been me?” These are all common thoughts of those who have experienced such in their lives.

My mother was the first to go. She tried to be strong during the first few months after Angie’s death, but we could all tell that consolation was far from her. The guilt of a mother, justified or not, is incredible in such situations. Her relationship with God, while present, was somewhat apathetic. “I will follow him, but I don’t like him,” she would say to me. She never slept. She laid on the couch all night long with the TV on. She would cry often, but try to be strong around us. She just wanted to be with Angie.

After two years, her health was not good. While her mother, my grandmother, has lived into her nineties, sorrow was attempting to take my mom’s life early. She would have been happy for it to have defeated her, but such was not the case. Sorrow only took half of her. She suffered from an aneurysm and an ensuing stroke in 2006. While few people survive a brain aneurysm, my mother did. The doctors said that it was the worse one he had seen in 25 years of surgery. They had to remove much of the frontal lobe. She may have been okay had not a stroke followed due to the blood around her brain. When all was done, when sorrow had run its course on my mother’s body, she had lost speech, her right eye sight, and she was completely immobile on her right side. She cannot walk, talk, and we still wonder how much she knows. All day long she sits in a chair in her living room watching the same movies over and over. While she can sing an entire song, she cannot put a sentence together and she seems pretty disconnected to what is going on around her.

My father was next. Guilt. Guilt of a father who did not really know his daughter. Guilt of a father who did not rescue her from her pain. Guilt of a father who was the last one to see her walk out the door. Guilt of a father who thought that things would just turn out positive like they always have. Shortly after Angie’s death, my dad began drinking again. He just drowned himself in his sorrow. Self-pity is an alluring friend. Within two years he had three DUIs.

Mom’s aneurysm was more than he could bear. She was everything to him. He is now the babysitter of his wife, worried only about changing her diaper and restarting the movie when it ends. He escapes by drinking. With his last DUI the threat of prison was alleviated for a time by a sympathetic judge who told him to “get home and take care of your wife.” This has not slowed him down. The thought of death or prison seem to accomodate his pain. I don’t know how I would handle the situation, so please don’t sense any judgment on my part. I have none. But as the situation stands, he is not well. As he would say “it is what it is.” But what “it is” is terribly tragic. Though he lives, he has died. He only needs his body to catch up with his spirit. Mom said that he had a death wish after Angie’s death. He now has two. Not fearing jail or death, my father is lost to sorrow.

My two other sisters have their own stories. They are strong some days and weak others. This has brought us closer together, but death is a stench that creates the background to all our conversations. We simply wait for the next movement of pain.

Angie said that we would all move on. She said that we would all forget about it and be fine. Angie, you were wrong. Your suicide left a legacy of pain that has played itself out in a terrible way. God’s merciful hand is the only way for it to cease, but we may not see such in this life.

Angie, you were wrong. After six years, you were wrong.Similar Posts:

• She Died of Sadness
• Misinterpreting God? An Example of the Often Confusing Voice of Experience
• Surviving Suicide for Familes
• Controlled by Fear
• On Leaving My First Love

Good Afternoon:
I am writing to you under emotional pangs, as I wrestle with the Scriptures, and what I hear from certain others who are Christian.

The husband of a friend of mine committed suicide. My friend, I know well, and her love and defense of the Scriptures. But I only know of her husband’s belief by what she tell me, and his attendance to church. She said he prayed a lot and loved God, her and their children.

But he yielded to suicide. And from what I understand, this was a long term fight to avoid that. He subsequently said he was going for walk, and he was found in a park, after shooting himself.

Here is a man who “claimed” to love Jesus, but his actions to me, deny his having made Jesus Lord and Master over his life. Rather, he must have had Satan as master.

I used to believe in “free will” but after a long study of the Sovereignty of God, I changed my mind. That study took several years. So I can’t say this man had free will unless he remains outside of God’s Lordship, where he does what the flesh does…. denies the power, promises, and love that God has living within us.

The pastor at the services said what my friend said, he is in heaven, due to the Grace of God.

But how can a person be tempted to kill himself then actually follow through with it, if he has Life in him? And Hope. These reign over Death and Hell.

My Response

Thanks for the questions. These are very good questions, and necessary to struggle with.

You said: “But how can a person be tempted to kill himself then actually follow through with it, if he has Life in him?”

How could David have killed Uriah? How could Peter have denied Christ. How could John have fallen down and worshiped an angel? How could Paul struggle with sin the way he does in Roman 7? Why would Paul exhort Christians to “walk in the spirit and therefore not carry out the deeds of the flesh” if it was a foregone conclusion that Christians cannot walk in the flesh? How could the Galatians (whom Paul considers “brethren”) have turned back toward the law after knowing Christ? How could the Corinthians live as spiritual babes, living in strife, jealously, and envy?

The answer: we are all sinners.

My sister committed suicide. She had been with me at seminary and was one of my primary means of encouragement throughout my younger ministry years. She was a prayer warrior, an aspiring evangelist, and one of the most generous people I have ever known. She fell into depression—terrible depression. Depression is a powerful result of the fall that ends up taking a lot of people’s lives. What she did was sin. Yes, it was premeditated as well.

What sins, in actuality, are not premeditated? There are not many . . . They are mainly personality and spirituality characteristics such as outbursts of anger, jealousy, and faithlessness. But most other sins are premeditated. If God does not forgive premeditated sins—if somehow these are the sins that are not covered by the cross—we are all in trouble.

I don’t know whether the gentleman who went on a walk in the park was a Christian or not (my heart hurts just thinking of his walk), but I do know that the cross of Christ redeems us from all sin, no matter how severe, no matter how much premeditation. Were suicide less traumatic, were it just a push of the button, I doubt that there is any who would escape its fate (we probably would not make it through our teen years!). Have mercy on this man. What he did was sin. What he did will have terrible and lasting consequences (just like any murder), but to think that this necessarily means he was not a Christian is unbiblical and well beyond our ability to judge.

The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses (present tense; 1 John1:7) us from all sin, not just some sins.

Some may say that all sins have to be confessed before death. I disagree. To say that we cannot have unconfessed sin when we die is problematic both biblically and practically. Biblically, Paul is clear that once we have faith in Christ we have been saved. This salvation is primarily from the ultimate penalty of our sin—eternal death. If we cannot truly be saved until we die with all sins confessed, then we cannot ever say that we are saved as Paul does. The best we can do is say we might be saved (i.e. if I die without any unconfessed sin). Salvation would always have to be spoken of as a contingent possibility, not a present reality. Yet Paul says to the Ephesians “By grace you have been saved” (Eph. 2:8). Christ says in John 6:24 “Whoever believes in me has eternal life.”There is no contingency here. The question becomes, Do you really believe?

The practical problem is this: If you do have to die without any unconfessed sin, how are you to be spiritually aware enough to remember all your sins? What if you forget one? What about the time you sped through the school zone? What about the time you pridefully thought about your promotion at work? What about the time you envied your neighbor’s new sprinkler system? What about the time you said you were sick, to avoid something, and you really weren’t? From a practical stand point, everyone will die with unconfessed sin. Most of these will include serious sins such as greed, pride, and envy. Therefore, we are all bound for hell? This trivializes the cross, forgiveness, and sin.

Christ’s death is a once for all remedy to our damnation. Because of this grace and forgiveness we should live a life that is pleasing to him, but some of us won’t do so well. That is what makes grace so wonderful and radical—indeed, beyond belief.

Hope that is helpful.Similar Posts:

• What Do You Think of This?
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• For those considering suicide . . .
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I doubt there is anyone who has ever escaped the subject of “divine hiddenness.” Maybe you have not termed it as such, but you have often wondered why God does not reveal himself in a way that is more satisfactory to our longings for experiential intimacy with him. “With him” may not be the right way to put it. A better way would be to say that we long for experiential intimacy with “the other side.” As someone has once said, “One out of every one people dies.” These are pretty good odds. We know that one day we will die and experience that which awaits us beyond death. Yet this life is virtually void of “signs” from the “other side.” In a way, all we have to work from is what Phillip Yancey terms “rumors” of another world. There is quit a bit of mystery, even for Christians, as to what exactly ”the other side” will be like. This can scare us. In fact, it can scare us so badly that we avoid death at all costs.

Of course, as Christians, we do have faith that this “other world” is real and that heaven is an actual place where God awaits us. We also have faith that God, from this “other world,” has spoken to us through Scripture. Yet we long for an experiential intimacy that parallels the norms of our lives today. We want to hear the voice of God. We have questions for him. We desire a sense experience that is often referred to as “empirical.” We want to see vivid signs of the other side that will solidify our faith and alleviate any residue of doubt that might does exist.

As Christians, God’s silence—God’s hiddenness—should not come as any surprise. Yes, I might do things differently. Were I on God’s board of directors, I might give him some gentle encouragement to be a little more open to showing himself, especially to his own children. But the fact is that we will not see God, hear God, or touch God in the way we so desire. If we did, the Christian worldview would be compromised as the Scripture tells us we should not expect to have our faith experienced though such empirical means.

Peter says, “And though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, obtaining as the outcome of your faith the salvation of your souls.” (1Pet. 1:8-9)

You see, Peter here assumes that we have not seen Christ (or God or the Holy Spirit). At least visually. Peter’s point would be moot if he did not mean to include all other forms of experiencing God empirically. The fact is that when Christ ascended into heaven, that was the last we have seen or heard from him in such a way. The door to the “other side” was shut.

Please note: I did not say “That was the last time he was active in an evident way.” Big difference. The point is that we do not and will not directly experience God through our eyes, ears, or hands until Christ returns. 

Why does God stay so hidden?

Allow me to take an all too familiar turn here for a moment.

Following my sister Angie’s first attempt at her life six years ago, she felt great shame. The shame itself seemed to be enough motivation for her to try again. “I tried to kill myself, Michael!” she said when I tried to encourage her. “Everyone is always going to think I am crazy. I am crazy!” “You are not crazy Angie,” I responded, not really knowing what to say. She quickly answered, “Yes, but you have never tried to kill yourself.” I was not sure what this meant, but it was obvious that her definition of “crazy” was based upon a comparison of herself to those who, in her mind, were sane. “You are right,” I said, “I have not ever tried to kill myself. But there are circumstances where I might.”

Under what circumstance might I try to kill myself? When would I consider suicide?

You must remember that, among other things, death is a crossing point to the “other side.” It is the point where “rumors” of another world fade into the reality of the other world. I was watching my all time favorite show Justice League (!) with my son Zach the other day. It was an episode where Flash went so fast that he actually began to cross over to the “other side.” The molecules in his body were completely unstable and he was stuck between this world and the next. When prodded to come back, Flash had a hard time. He said, “But it is so beautiful over here.” You see, the lines were blurred between this life and the next and Flash wanted to go to the next. He could not concentrate on this world any longer due to his exposure to the next. In other words, he wanted to die due to his empirical exposé to the “other side.” He needed to have an experiential breach between this life and the next in order to remain here and accomplish his mission (gettin’ them bad guys).

I don’t think this make believe story is too far from reality. You and I also need an experiential (empirical) breach from the “other side.” We need not to see Jesus. We need not to talk to Jesus. We need not to hear Jesus.

The disciples, understandably, did not want Jesus to die. When he did, they were so bold as to desire to die with him. Thomas, of all people,—doubting Thomas—when he thought Jesus was going to die, said to the other disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with Him” (Joh 11:16). I love the simple faith this expresses. Peter was no different (Lk. 22:33). All who were with Jesus had experienced the “other side” in the person of Christ and they were not willing to let that go, even to death. In Acts 1:6, they still had hope that Christ had blurred the lines permanently: “Is it at this time you are restoring the kingdom to Israel?” But they had to watch as Christ was taken into the sky, never to be seen again until his second coming (Acts 1:9-11). The point is that the disciples would have gladly gone on a suicide mission with Christ if it meant a continuation of their exposure to the “other side” in the person of Christ.

You and I would do the same. Were God to show himself in the ways we so often think he should—were he to do things the way we would do them, we would never be able to accomplish our mission. We would continually be wanting to die in order to cross over. We would be like Flash, having empirical involvement in the world to come, but still having one foot in the previous world. However, unlike Flash (who had Superman and Wonder Woman pulling him back), we most definitely would cross over. Why wouldn’t we? The mysterious would be unmysterious. The lines between this life and the next would be so blurred that we would not hesitate to take that extra step of death, even by our own hand.

It is odd to say, but God’s silence may actually preserve his mission for us. The ability to be stable here in this life is actually facilitated by God’s (empirical) silence. I am not saying this is the only reason God is silent, but it does make sense.

Would I do things differently if I were in charge? I am sure I would, to my own detriment. That is why I am not in charge. What are the circumstances that I might kill myself? If God was empirically evident and the lines between this world and the next were too blurred.Similar Posts:

• Questions I Hope No One Asks: Why Is God So Silent?
• Why is God So Silent in My Life?
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• How to Prepare for Hell – A “Just in Case” Letter to My Unbelieving Friends

We just passed the 6 year anniversary of your death. I guess it was the evening of January 4, 2004 (that is what the medical examiner said), but Kristie (your sister, not my wife) thinks it is January 5 because that morning her back door blew open. Remember, she had Drew that night. She says you came to see him one last time. I told her that was dumb, but she really holds on to that. Anyway, who cares, right?

We all really miss you. There is a certain amount of darkness that follows us everywhere we go. I suppose that this “cloud” (isn’t that what you always called it?) will be with us until Christ. I have a hard time as I often wonder if I am wallowing in self-pity because of what you did and because of mom. It was just such a short period of time to have lost you both. But I really can feel sorry for myself. It’s funny because the week after you died (or maybe it was the weekend before), Chuck preached on Joshua. It was when Joshua was taking over for Moses after Moses had died. God told Joshua (to paraphrase), “Moses my servant is dead, now you must lead my people.” You know how Chuck is. Very straight forward, matter of fact, with that deep low voice? He said, “Let me be frank. Some of you are wallowing in pity over someone who has died. MOVE ON! They are dead, you are not! I don’t mean to be insensitive, but some of you need to get on with God’s mission.” It was something like that. I really needed to hear it, but so often I cannot get over it. I have learned to live with it, but none of us can get over it.

Angie, I don’t really know where you are. I think you are with the Lord. I hope that you are with the Lord. But you remember all those times before you died that you asked me about whether or not there really was a God. Remember driving back from Oklahoma City and we went through the five options? 1) Nothing created everything. 2) Chance created everything. 3) Everything came from nothing. 4) Everything is eternal. 5) An eternal God created everything. (That actually made it into my Trinitarianism course!) Just the very fact that I had to try to persuade you that God existed scared me. You used to call me in the early nineties when you could not sleep and ask me the same thing. You were mad at him for not answering your prayers about your sleeplessness. That was the first time I felt like a pastor, since you called me to ask me about it. Anyway, you seemed so full of doubt and unbelief before you died. Remember when you were upstairs at our house crying and angry that God would not take away your depression? You used me as your “God punching bag” (remember, I would always say to you and mom, “Just because I am in ministry, does not mean that I am your punching bag for God”). You said that you did not even believe in him any more. For the last month, you went really cold toward everything. That is why I don’t like to ask where you are. I do, however, tell everyone that you died with Chuck’s Day by Day book in front of you. I think you are with him.

There is just so much to say…

(BTW: I was encouraged to write this “grief letter” to you and share it. So that is what I am doing.)

I do want to say thank you for all your encouragement that you gave to me through seminary and my early years at Stonebriar. I do believe that you are a big part of why I am doing what I am doing. Remember when I first started teaching at the Center for Biblical Studies at Dallas Seminary? You would come to the class (it was Romans) and critique me in the parking lot after class. You did so good in your critique. You would say (without me even asking), “Here is what I like about your teaching…” I think you said I was very authoritative, that people seemed to be engaged, and that it seemed that I knew what I was talking about. But then you would say, “Here is where you can improve…” Lots of that. Remember when you said that I just stared at people after they asked a question with a blank look on my face? You said that they seemed to  feel really stupid and that I needed to try to encourage the students more or they would not feel free to ask questions. You helped me out so much. I don’t have anyone like that any more. You came to my Romans class all three times I taught it. You did the same thing when I was teaching at Stonebriar. Thank you.

But your death has really served as a catalyst for me and my passion for theology. I know that sounds odd. It is odd, especially after all my teaching, you were still questioning God and took your own life!! Well, it has helped in other ways. Most importantly, through the tragedy that it has brought upon us, I have come to realize that we are not sheltered from the most terrible of pain. No one is. I don’t know how to explain it. Remember I was a fitness trainer for so long. You know how I prepared people physically, and in many ways what I did was to prevent heart problems, diabetes, and other sicknesses? I feel as if theology creates a foundation, a sort of preventative measure for life’s sicknesses. I guess what I am saying is that every time I teach and preach, my heart is yearning for the stability that real belief provides. I don’t know what I would have done the last few years after all the stuff with you and mom if I did not really believe in Christ. And you know what? I do. While my faith has been experientially molded, it has not weakened in the slightest. I remember preaching at your funeral (thanks a lot by the way for making me do that…no brother should have to do that) and saying that your tragic death did not change the reality of Christ’s incarnation and resurrection. No matter what it looks like, God still loves us and things are going to get better. Death, sickness, pain, depression, and that stupid “cloud” will be no more.

It has taken me all day to write this. I just had lunch with Lindsey and Kristie (your sister, not my wife). We go to the Bagel Shop (Wayne’s Bagel Café—it is really great) almost every Friday. We used to take mom, but we can hardly move her any more (another story). I told them about this letter. They said that they could never do this. I have not cried about you in so long (except in my dreams—isn’t that weird?). I told them that right when I started to write this, I started to cry. I mean, it was the first paragraph! Oh well, anyway, we talk about you every Friday. Usually we jest about the whole situation. I think it makes us feel better. We say things like, “If that dead sister of yours was here, she would…” Or, “If only your stupid sister had not blown her head off.” Oh, don’t act surprised. You would be right there with us. Lindsey and Kristie did not want to hear to much about the letter, although I am sure that they will read it. We have grown very close since you left. That has been good. Lindsey and Kristie are my best friends. Really! Can you believe that?

We have not seen Drew since you died. I am so sorry. There is nothing we can do. David won’t let us see him. We have not even heard from David or Drew in five years. I do pray for him though. I can’t imagine what he looks like. He has to be so big. As big as Kylee.

I don’t really want to talk to you about mom. Her situation is even harder than yours. And Dad…Another time.

Well, I don’t know if you will ever see this letter. Maybe Jesus will read it to you. I don’t know. My theology of the intermediate state is rather limited. God did not tell us much about it. But I hope he does read this to you. He’ll most certianly be able to correct the grammar! Tell him I said hi. Although I just talked to him.

We all love you and miss you so much. Nothing ever has or ever could replace you. We don’t forget and we cannot forget like you said we would.

See you soon,

MichaelSimilar Posts:

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My children are 10, 8, 6, and 2.  I wish so much that they had a chance to know Angie better. Katelynn, my oldest, knew her pretty well. Kylee a little. Their memories, I’m sure,  are quickly fading. Will was just two months old when she died. Zach was not born.

I often talk to them about Angie. I recount how much she loved them. I tell about how much I loved her. If I keep her memorialized with my children, she seems to be still a part of my life.

“Daddy, how did Angie die?”

This is the dreaded question that I get ever so often. I don’t really know what to say. What a horrible thing for children to hear were I to tell them the truth. Therefore, for now, it is sufficient to say, “She died of sadness.” My kids are usually satisfied, but not lately. Will will not let me off the hook. He is five and very persistent. “How does someone die of sadness?” He asks. “I don’t know,” I respond, “they just get really, really sick.” “But how do they die?” “I don’t know, it just causes them to die.”

I don’t think I am lying to my kids. In fact, I think that it is the most accurate way to put it. She did die of sadness. She just got so, so sad that she did not feel as if she had another choice. The gun she shot was not pointed toward herself, it was pointed toward the sadness that was in her head. She just wanted it to stop and all the pills and positive thinking were not as powerful as the bullet. She killed the sadness and her body was a casualty of friendly fire.

Here I am four years later and feel no more equipped to deal with this than I did then. I mean dealing with this kind of sadness. None of us are—my sisters, father, or myself. I have a better understanding and empathy for Angie. As wrong as this may sound, I don’t blame her.

Dying of sadness. What could be worse?

But the sadness did not leave. Its lease was up in Angie’s head, but it stayed in the family. It immediately attacked my mother’s head and her brain could not take it. Her brain just shut itself down. Call it an aneurysm, call it a stroke, but these were only the means of her brain to protect itself. Even still, it did not die. It went to my father with more fury than ever. He neutralizes it alone at the bar.

My sister killed the sadness in her head, but it did not die.

To those who are sad, I have no advice, but to continue to trust him who will one day kill sadness forever.

Revelation 7:17
“For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”Similar Posts:

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Suicide from a Biblical Perspective for the Surviving Family Member.

Introduction.

The purpose of this is to bring comfort to the surviving family members of one who has commited suicide by bringing to light God’s perspective from the scriptures. It is my hope that any who read this will recognize three things:

1. Godly people in scripture were tempted by suicide, and some committed suicide.
2. Suicide is not an unforgivable sin.
3. You are not responsible for the actions of this person.

Biblical Examples of Those Tempted by Suicide.

Job wished he had never been born:

“Let the day perish on which I was to be born,
And the night which said, ‘A boy is conceived.” (Job 3:3)

“Why did I not die at birth,
Come forth from the womb and expire?” (Job 3:11)

Jesus was tempted by the devil to jump off a building:

“Then the devil took Him into the holy city and had Him stand on the pinnacle of the temple, and said to Him, “If You are the Son of God, throw Yourself down; for it is written,
‘HE WILL COMMAND HIS ANGELS CONCERNING YOU’; and
‘ON their HANDS THEY WILL BEAR YOU UP,
SO THAT YOU WILL NOT STRIKE YOUR FOOT AGAINST A STONE.’”
Jesus said to him, “On the other hand, it is written,
‘YOU SHALL NOT PUT THE LORD YOUR GOD TO THE TEST.’” (Matthew 4:5-7)

Biblical Examples of Suicide.

Ahithophel, a counselor to king David:

“Now when Ahithophel saw that his counsel was not followed, he saddled his donkey and arose and went to his home, to his city, and set his house in order, and strangled himself; thus he died and was buried in the grave of his father.” (2Samuel 17:23)

Samson kills himself after realizing his sin, but is still named in the Hall of Faith (Hebrews 11:32):

“Samson grasped the two middle pillars on which the house rested, and braced himself against them, the one with his right hand and the other with his left. And Samson said, “Let me die with the Philistines!” And he bent with all his might so that the house fell on the lords and all the people who were in it. So the dead whom he killed at his death were more than those whom he killed in his life.” (Judges 16:30)

Judas after realizing his betrayal would lead to Jesus death:

“Then when Judas, who had betrayed Him, saw that He had been condemned, he felt remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.” But they said, “What is that to us? See to that yourself!” And he threw the pieces of silver into the temple sanctuary and departed; and he went away and hanged himself.” (Matthew 27:3-5)

Jesus allowed himself to die for our sins:

“For God has not destined us for wrath, but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep, we will live together with Him.” (1Thessalonians 5:9-10)

Is Suicide the Unforgivable Sin?

NO! Scripturally speaking, the only unforgivable sin is refusing a relationship with Jesus Christ. Salvation is a gift of God’s grace, and has no basis in the works (whether good or bad) of the man or woman of God. Scripture is very clear on the way to salvation.

“…that if you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved; for with the heart a person believes, resulting in righteousness, and with the mouth he confesses, resulting in salvation.” (Romans 10:9-10)

When people speak of the unforgivable sin they are referencing Jesus in Matthew 12:31-32. In reality I believe that this passage can bring great hope to the believer. Lets see exactly what this passage says:

“Therefore I say to you, any sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven people, but blasphemy against the Spirit shall not be forgiven. Whoever speaks a word against the Son of Man, it shall be forgiven him; but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him, either in this age or in the age to come.” (Matthew 12:31-32)

From the reading of this passage you can see that the sin that will not be forgiven is blasphemy (slander) of the Holy Spirit. In the greater context you can see that the Holy Spirit was doing great things through the ministry of Jesus, but the Pharisees were saying it was the work of Beelzebul the ruler of the demons (Matthew 12:24). They were calling the work of the Holy Spirit the work of Satan! Jesus says that is unforgivable. But, did you catch the exciting thing that Jesus said at the beginning of verse 31?

“Therefore I say to you, any sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven people…” (Matthew 12:31a)

Any sin can be forgiven – even suicide.

Who is Responsible?

Many times family members of those who commit suicide believe that they bear some guilt or shame because of their family members choice. This is not true, each person is responsible for their own sin. The Bible points this out in the law:

“Fathers shall not be put to death for their sons, nor shall sons be put to death for their fathers; everyone shall be put to death for his own sin.” (Deuteronomy 24:16)

Similar Posts:

• For Those Considering Suicide . . . (2)
• For those considering suicide . . .
• Do People Who Commit Suicide Go to Hell?
• Who Killed Jesus? A Good Friday Meditation (Sam Storms)
• Why is God So Silent?

While it is hard to explain exactly what, from a human standpoint, caused the revival to begin, it is just as difficult to give reasons for its demise. Edwards gives his own account. From Dr. Storms’ book:

Although the history of revival reveals that no two outpourings were precisely the same, they do share one thing in common: they all came to an end. Edwards noted that “in the latter part of May, it began to be very sensible that the Spirit of God was gradually withdrawing from us, and after this time Satan seemed to be more let loose, and raged in a dreadful manner. ” One event seemed to Edwards to hasten the demise of religion: a man, from a family prone to depression (what Edwards called “melancholy”), committed suicide by cutting his throat. “The devil took the advantage, and drove him into despairing thoughts. ” [The man was in fact Joseph Hawley, Edwards' uncle.] The impact of this on the community was devastating:

“After this,” Edwards tells, multitudes in this and other towns seemed to have it strongly suggested to them, and pressed upon them, to do as this person had done. And many who seemed to be under no melancholy, some pious persons who had no special darkness or doubts about the goodness of their state . . . had it urged upon them as if somebody had spoke to them, Cut you throat, now is a good opportunity. Now! Now!“

I found it interesting that Edwards tells that this man came from a family prone toward depression. This was Edwards’ family. Edwards himself, what most would call “the greatest theologian America has produced to date,” struggled with depression.

I also, obviously,was drawn to Edwards’ assessment of the effect of his uncle’s suicide upon the community. “The impact of this on the community was devastating” as Edwards puts it.

The devastating effects of suicide cannot be ignored. A person is 2 1/2 times more likely to commit suicide if they have a family member who has done so. If this is the case, I am sure that the likelihood of depression increases dramatically as well.

God’s grace can and has certainly overcome those effects in many individuals, families, and communities, but often they play themselves out as God permits.Similar Posts:

• Surviving Suicide for Familes
• Do People Who Commit Suicide Go to Hell?
• For those considering suicide . . .
• The Uninvited: An Allegory of Evil
• Why Is the Problem of Evil Such a Problem – Reflections on Haiti and Other Bad News