William Cowper and Spiritual Depression

One of my all-time favorite hymns to sing is “Praise for the Fountain Opened,” more commonly known by its first line, “There is a Fountain.” Written sometime in the 1770s by William Cowper, it was eventually published in 1779 by Cowper and John Newton within their Olney Hymns. The Only Hymns were intended for Newton’s rural church parish but proved to be immensely popular and went through many printings over the next several decades.

I’m sure you know the hymn well. The first and third stanzas are some of my favorites:

There is a fountain filled with blood

Drawn from Immanuel's veins;

And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

Lose all their guilty stains…

E'er since by faith I saw the stream

Thy flowing wounds supply,

Redeeming love has been my theme,

And shall be till I die.[1]

Indeed, we ought to praise God for the fountain opened, for through it, even the most wretched, vile, and ungodly of sinners may be washed clean and forgiven their sins!

Yet, as familiar as the hymn may be, it may be just as surprising to learn that William Cowper struggled against terrible bouts of depression. Despite his faith in Christ, expressed through some of the greatest Christian poetry ink ever put to paper, Cowper not only contemplated suicide but attempted it on several occasions. In fact, in 1772, he had what today would be described as a mental breakdown. He believed that God had abandoned him and prescribed him to eternal damnation and was demanding he take his own life.

The Lord was, thankfully, quite gracious to Cowper, who was himself surrounded by Christian friends who helped to care for him. Some of the greatest pastors of the time, like John Newton, even befriended him and encouraged him through his bouts of spiritual struggle and depression. When Cowper did eventually die, it would be of natural causes and not because he took his own life. He died believing in Christ and trusting that the salvation he had been gifted was secure.

Perhaps you can relate to Cowper in some ways. I know I can. Though we often like to try to pretend that spiritual depression is not real or that we ourselves don’t experience it, often the truth is that we simply don’t want to talk about it. But, like Cowper, we sometimes must walk through the shadowed valley of death to be reminded that our Good Shepherd will neither leave us nor forsake us.

Spiritual Depression is Real

Some people are predisposed towards fits of melancholia. For seemingly no good reason, they start to feel sad, beaten down, and depressed. Some call it "the blues." Others, "depression." Likely, you can relate, at least some of the time. Even I go through these bouts and fits.

As a pastor, I like to call these bouts of melancholy "Monday." See, every week, I toil over my sermons and teachings. I study and exegete the Word of God, parse over the original languages, study various commentaries, and pour my heart, body, and soul into this prep work. This is essential work because, as R.C. Sproul once said, empty heads simply cannot nourish zealous hearts. Only after the Scripture has been poured into me can I hope to pour something worthwhile out. Then, after all the anticipation and build-up, Sunday comes. I stand at our church's pulpit and once more pour out everything I've worked on the previous week.

Then, “Monday” happens. If I'm not careful, I get hit with waves of melancholy. Thoughts and regrets begin to pummel me. Thoughts like, "I should have said this better," or, "I should not have said that at all." Pretty soon, if I don't redirect my thoughts and energy elsewhere, I can find myself wallowing in self-regret and misery. To make matters worse, Sunday worship could have been terrific. Everyone may have greeted me with a smiling face and a warm handshake or hug. There's seemingly no rhyme or reason to it.

Yet, there it is. “Monday” comes and overwhelms the soul. You may call it something else, but we all experience it at one point or another. The question is, why?

It is simpler to understand than we may first imagine. When we get our eyes off Jesus, we get distracted from the things that really count and bring us joy. When our eyes begin to wander, we inevitably fix them upon ourselves and find that we are just like the Narcissus of legend—we love to navel gaze and stare at ourselves. In doing so, we quickly become miserable. It turns out that Friedrich Nietzsche got something right: When you stare into the abyss, the abyss will stare back. Without Christ, the depravity of man is so great that all we are is a dark abyss. Stare long enough, and you won’t like what you find.

If you find yourself battling a bout of spiritual depression, then there is one thing you must do: Fight for joy.

Fighting for Joy

I've often found this to be true when counseling fellow believers: Those who encounter the greatest bouts of spiritual depression, who claim to lack joy, are those who have gotten their eyes off Christ—and this is a perennial danger for all believers. It’s why the writer of Hebrews wrote, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:1-2).

The great cure for spiritual depression is Christ. If you want to find joy in the darkest of nights, contemplate Christ. Direct your gaze, your heart, and your thoughts upon Jesus.

Thomas Watson, in his book The Great Gain of Godliness, tackles this very issue of spiritual depression and encourages the Christian to do this very thing. Set your sights upon Christ and His glory and you will discover that there is, undeniably, a peculiar joy that attends itself to the one who regularly takes time to contemplate Christ. As Watson beautifully puts it, “He whose head gets above the clouds—has his thoughts lifted high, has God in his eye, is full of divine raptures, and cries out as Peter in the transfiguration, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here!’”[2]

Sometimes, as we walk through the shadow of the valley of death, the mist and fog can cloud our view so that we cannot see Jesus alongside us. But lift your head above the valley, climb to the top of the mountain, and you will find that Jesus is that Good Shepherd, always by your side. When we think of all the benefits that are yours in Christ and all that Christ did to accomplish your salvation, we cannot long remain in the muck and mire of spiritual depression. Soon, the fog and mist will lift, and you will behold your Savior in the glory of triumph.

A genuine and true contemplation of Christ may, at times, be a battle. But it is a battle worth waging. Watson continued, “Some complain that they have no joy in their lives; and truly, no wonder, when they are such strangers to heavenly contemplation.”[3] The one who never contemplates Christ can never have joy.

Permit me to ask you, dear reader, along with Watson, “Would you have your spirits cheerful? Let your thoughts be heavenly! The higher the lark flies—the sweeter it sings. Just so, the higher a soul ascends in the thoughts of God—the sweeter joy it has!”[4]

Spiritual Depression Cannot Separate You from Christ

One of the sweet joys that contemplation of Christ brings to the believer is the knowledge that, despite how we feel in particular moments of spiritual depression, the truth of God and His Word does not change. This is, ultimately, what Watson desired believers to know as they battled this form of suffering. It’s the truth that Cowper had to grasp to defeat his trials. And it’s the truth that will deliver us from the thickest of spiritual fogs. Perhaps Octavius Winslow gets to this truth the best:

We must here, however, guard a precious and important truth; viz., the indestructible nature of true grace.

Divine grace in the soul can never really die; true faith can never utterly and finally fail. We are speaking now but of their decay. A flower may droop, and yet live: a plant may be sickly, and yet not die. In the lowest stage of spiritual declension, in the feeblest state of grace, there is a life that never dies. In the midst of all his startings aside, the ebb and the flow, the wandering and the restoring, the believer in Jesus is kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation.' He cannot utterly fall; he cannot finally be lost.

The immutability of God keeps him, the covenant of grace keeps him, -the finished work of Jesus keeps him,- the indwelling of the Spirit keeps him, and keeps him to eternal glory.[5]

Beloved, look to Christ! Spiritual depression is temporary. Our joy in Christ is eternal and His love for us is secure. Contemplate these truths. Contemplate Christ. Contemplate the wonderful fountain opened to us and the salvation that is ours in Christ. And, when spiritual depression comes, put it to death by finding joy in your Savior.

[1] William Cowper, Praise for the Fountain Opened, https://hymnary.org/text/there_is_a_fountain_filled_with_blood_dr.

[2] Thomas Watson, The Great Gain of Godliness (West Linn, Monergism Books, 2019), 131.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid., 132.

[5]Octavius Winslow, Personal Declension and Revival of the Soul (Carlisle: Banner of Truth, 2021), 2-3.