For years, the American church has treated mental health like a theological riddle—something to be solved through faith, obedience or sheer willpower. Anxiety? Cast your cares on Him. Depression? The joy of the Lord is your strength. Therapy? Maybe if your pastor approves. But in recent years, that narrative has been shifting, albeit slowly. Pastors talk openly about their struggles. Churches are hiring mental health professionals. Stigma is loosening its grip. And yet, as Judah Smith sees it, there’s still a long way to go.
Smith, lead pastor of Churchome, has spent decades at the intersection of faith and culture. In his early years of ministry, his approach to mental health was pretty standard evangelical fare—pray more, believe harder. But now, at 46, he’s not afraid to admit: he doesn’t have all the answers. And maybe that’s the point.
“In my 20s, I would have given a passionate answer. In my 30s, I would have toned it down. In my 40s, my first response is, I don’t know for sure,” he tells me.
It’s a jarring admission from a pastor whose job, ostensibly, is to point people toward certainty. But certainty, Smith suggests, is overrated—especially when it comes at the expense of real, honest conversations about suffering.
Jesus, Mental Health and the Church’s Role
Smith is convinced that mental health isn’t just an add-on to faith—it’s a core part of it. And that realization didn’t come overnight.
“There’s a verse toward the end of the Bible, in 3 John, that says, ‘I wish that you prosper and be in health even as your soul prospers.’ It suggests that real wealth is in your soul, not in material possessions. You can’t buy it or trade for it. It’s something you have to invest in. And that has everything to do with mental and emotional health.”
“Mental health is the message of Jesus,” he continues.
He points to the story of Mary and Martha. Martha is frantically trying to host, while Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, listening. When Martha complains, Jesus doesn’t rebuke her for failing to pray harder. He says: You’re anxious. You’re worried. Come, sit with me.
“Jesus cared about the state of people’s minds. He saw their anxieties, their inner turmoil. He didn’t brush it off or tell them to ‘have more faith.’ He engaged. He made space for it. If that’s how Jesus operated, why has the church done the opposite for so long?”
Breaking the Stigma, Starting from the Pulpit
Part of the problem, Smith argues, is that too many church leaders still treat mental health as a secondary issue—something that’s good to talk about, but not core to the gospel.
“We’ve separated the message of Jesus and mental health, but they are one and the same.”
Smith knows that change starts at the top. That’s why, these days, he’s more intentional about transparency in the pulpit. He talks about his own therapy sessions. He admits his struggles. He tells his congregation, “I have bad thoughts. I have intrusive thoughts. I wrestle with things just like you do.”
“I texted my friend the other day, ‘All I can think about is other beautiful women. Will you pray for me?’ Because I’m married to one, and I’d like to think about her, but my mind is distracted. I don’t want that thought to take me into a life that destroys the one I have. We all have impulses, desires and feelings. Can we talk about them? If leaders won’t, why do we think others will?”
He laughs. “Of course, when I say things like that in sermons, we get emails. Some Christians are upset. But we also get emails from people who aren’t Christians, saying, ‘That’s the first time I’ve felt like I could belong in a church.’”
That, to Smith, is worth it.
A New Kind of Spiritual Discipline
Transparency isn’t the only shift Smith has made. His approach to spiritual disciplines looks different, too.
“Growing up, we had ‘devotions’—prayer times we timed, Bible plans we followed. And those things are great. But for me, they became performative. I did them because I thought I had to. Now, my practice looks different.”
Instead of rigid routines, Smith embraces stillness. Sometimes that means taking a bath and listening to guided prayer. Other times, it’s sitting in silence.
“I used to think I had to pray for hours, name every single person,” Smith said. “Now, if someone comes to mind, I just say, ‘God, be with them today.’ And that’s enough. I don’t have to overcomplicate it.”
That shift—from pressure to presence—has been transformative. And Smith believes it’s the kind of shift more churches need to embrace.
What Comes Next?
So where does the church go from here? How do we make faith and mental health actually intersect in a way that changes lives?
For Smith, the answer is simple: it starts with honesty.
“If pastors aren’t willing to talk about their own struggles, how can we expect others to? If we keep treating mental health like a secondary issue, how can we claim to be following Jesus, who centered his ministry on healing the broken?”
At the end of the day, Smith says, this isn’t about being progressive or countercultural. It’s about being faithful.
“Jesus was never in a rush. He never dismissed people’s pain. He never told people to ‘just get over it.’ He sat with them. He wept with them. He made space for their stories.”
