A Christian Reflection on PTSD

When I consider that the estimated risk for developing PTSD has been determined as approximately 11% (9% for males and 16% for females) (Shalev et al., 2019), this means that about one person out of 10 is expected to develop this disorder after witnessing or experiencing a life-threatening situation. According to this research, people who are exposed to repeated exposure have an even higher probability of developing PTSD.

Symptoms of PTSD are characteristically intense with recurrent, intrusive thoughts and dreams as well as prolonged psychological and physiological distress. Marked alterations in mood, arousal, reactivity, and cognition often lead to interrupted work and home routines with a duration of these symptoms persisting for more than a month (APA, 2022). People who suffer from PTSD have difficulty interacting with others at a meaningful level which is painful for caring families and life partners to endure. Relationships suffer because the affected person can seem distant, disengaged, or disinterested – no matter how hard others try to connect.

From my Christian faith perspective, I must wonder how this diagnostic information would have applied to the close members of Jesus’ family and friends post-crucifixion. Did one of the 11 remaining apostles struggle with symptoms of PTSD a month after his death – especially when it became clear that their own lives were also in danger? Was Peter’s denial part of a potential cluster of symptoms in Acute Stress Disorder as a pre-cursor to PTSD? In effect, what was this traumatic event's psychological and spiritual impact on the men and women in that early community outside of the apostles’ inner circle?

I ask these questions not to question the biblical accounting of these events but instead to challenge me to think about my faith in a new way to honor these stories at yet another level. To me, having an additional context for the struggle of these incredible human beings helps to center my own difficulties with life that can feel overwhelming. I get a renewed sense of how a community can be life-giving in times of hardship with each of us leaning on the other to get through them.

Margaret Mead was my hero as a child, and I recall her response to what an indication for civilization is in field of anthropology. Her statement was that a mended femur (thighbone) represented community support for food, water, and essential needs not found in the animal kingdom. I have to believe that these early Christians must have gathered together in a similar way to support anyone devastated by the death of Christ to the point of suffering from PTSD.

How then do we extend that same support to our hurting community now? Life-threatening national and world events seem to be occurring daily and it can be difficult to know what we might do to help. For my part, I plan to be more intentional in my practical community support – to offer what time, energy, and resources might be helpful to the least of my brothers and sisters.