“Jesus wept.”

In just two words found in John 11:35, Scripture dismantles a persistent myth in Christianity — that holiness means denying emotions.

In many faith spaces, positivity has been elevated to being a spiritual virtue. If you feel sadness, anxiety, grief, or discouragement, the unspoken instruction can seem devastatingly clear: Recite a verse, smile, and trust God. You might hear it in phrases like: 

“Be strong.” 

“Don’t cry.”

“Get over it.”

While often well-intentioned, that instinct creates what many psychologists now call toxic positivity, which is the pressure to maintain an upbeat attitude while dismissing painful emotions or difficult realities.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not against hope. There is something genuinely beautiful about a person who, after deep suffering, still trusts that darkness will not have the final word. But Christian hope and emotional denial are not the same thing, and confusing the two can create real harm.

God Never Asked Us to Ignore the Hard Parts

If Scripture wanted to teach us that painful emotions signal a weak faith, the Bible would look very different.

Consider the book of Ecclesiastes, one of the most brutally honest reflections on the emptiness of chasing meaning through wealth, achievement, and pleasure. The phrase “Meaningless! Meaningless!” (Ecclesiastes 1:2, NIV) is not hidden or sugarcoated. The book begins with saying such efforts are utterly meaningless. 

Jeremiah, known as the weeping prophet, gave us an entire book devoted to grief and devastation with no tidy resolution at the end. And the Psalms, perhaps most powerfully, show us David bringing his whole self before God, crying out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” and “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Psalm 22:1a, 13:1a, NIV). 

These are not polished Sunday morning prayers. They are the most honest cries of a broken heart. And God saw fit to preserve every word of them in His Word. He cares about our pain.

Even Jesus Experienced Human Sorrow

The clearest answer to toxic positivity is discovered with Jesus.

When Jesus arrived at Lazarus’s tomb, He knew the miracle was moments away. He knew the story wasn’t over. And yet when He saw Mary weeping, He didn’t rush to silence her grief or correct her theology. He wept with her (John 11:35). He did not rebuke her sorrow. He entered it.

In Gethsemane, facing the cross, Jesus said, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38, NIV). The Gospel of Luke records that His sweat fell “like drops of blood,” a startling detail that conveys the depth of His anguish.

While humanity has always been tempted to reach up and grasp for God-like strength, God moves down toward us. While many humans have wanted to be God, Jesus is the only true God who became human. He took on our weakness, entered our pain, and drew near to us in love. If Jesus, who is fully God, fully without sin, but also fully man, experienced sorrow and tears, then painful emotions cannot be signs of spiritual failure. They are, in fact, part of what it means to be human.

What Research Tells Us

Modern psychology increasingly aligns with what Scripture already demonstrates: Emotions ignored are not emotions healed. 

Recent clinical research suggests that toxic positivity can function as a harmful form of emotional avoidance. When people feel pressure to appear fine while suppressing real distress, symptoms associated with generalized anxiety disorder and depression can increase rather than decrease.  Emotions that are ignored do not disappear; they often return with greater intensity.  Not to mention, this denial of our internal reality increases social isolation and imposter syndrome, as individuals withdraw from relationships to hide their authentic experiences. 

Psychologist Dr. Tim Kasser further expands on this idea, saying, “The pressure to be positive all the time can undermine psychological well-being and prevent the development of emotional resilience.” His research underscores a paradox: Forced optimism can end up creating the very struggles it promises to prevent. 

As Christians, we must take these insights seriously and stop demonizing our emotions. When understood correctly, they are not enemies. Sadness reveals real loss. Anger can alert us to injustice. Anxiety can signal that something genuinely needs attention. Grief reminds us that love was real. Yes, our feelings are not infallible guides, but they are often meaningful messengers and dismissing them outright doesn’t make them go away. It only forces them beneath the surface, where they linger and grow until they eventually break through in ways we can no longer ignore. 

Processing Before Perspective

Many of us have been taught to skip to perspective:

“Count your blessings.” 

“Everything happens for a reason.” 

“Just have faith.”

Some of these statements carry real truth. But truth applied too early can function more like avoidance than comfort. There is an important difference between perspective that grows out of genuine processing and perspective used to replace it.

Scripture models a wiser pattern. Many of the Psalms begin in honest confusion and end in renewed confidence. Lament comes first. Trust follows. The hope is real, but it travels through honesty, not around it.

That’s why Romans 12:15 instructs us to “rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn” (NIV). Sometimes the most Christlike response is not to fix someone’s pain but to sit faithfully beside them in it. Sometimes presence matters more than answers.

What This Means for the Church

The church should be the safest place on earth to tell the truth.

We worship a risen Savior, so we are people of hope. But we also follow a crucified Savior, so we should not be afraid of sorrow. That means making room for lament without embarrassment, tears without shame, questions without panic, grief without timelines, and struggle without suspicion.

It also means being careful with one another. When someone is hurting, they may need presence more than empty cliches. Instead of saying, “Just stay positive” or “Keep your head up,” you could say:

“I’m so sorry.”

“That sounds incredibly hard.”

“I’m here for you. Even if you just want to be silent.” 

Those responses do not deny hope. They embody love. Christians are not called to perform positivity. We are called to practice hope.

So if you are struggling, do not assume your sorrow means you are failing spiritually. Bring your whole self to God: the grief, the frustration, the confusion, the anger, the tears. He is not threatened by the truth of your experience. He invites us, as Peter puts it, to “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7, NIV).

God does not dismiss our emotions. Hebrews 4:15 reminds us that Jesus is able to empathize with our weaknesses, not from a distance, but because He has walked through human experience. That means our emotions, even the painful ones, are not obstacles to God’s presence. They’re an invitation into it. As we grow in our understanding of faith and emotional health, we don’t have to choose between the two. 

The gospel does not ask you to pretend. It invites you to be known, loved, and carried by the One who entered suffering, walks with you in it, and promises that sorrow won’t be forever. Remember, you do not need to fake being okay to be held by God.

This article was originally titled “Permission to Feel” in the October 2026 issue of Peer.