Chris Cipollone: Overcoming Depression, Anxiety & Finding Faith in "Down, Not Out”
Click to Expand Table of Contents
Chris Cipollone on Overcoming Depression, Anxiety & Finding Faith in Down, Not Out
How does faith intersect with depression, anxiety, and mental health struggles? Chris Cipollone, pastor, author, and mental health advocate, has lived this reality firsthand. In his book Down, Not Out, he shares his journey from a psychiatric hospital to a renewed faith, exploring how the gospel speaks into mental illness with hope, grace, and truth.
In this powerful conversation on Sunburnt Souls, Dave Quak sits down with Chris to discuss:
How faith and theology can bring peace in the midst of mental health battles
His personal experience in a psychiatric hospital—and what actually happens there
Why mental illness is not a sign of weak faith, but a place where God meets us
The vision behind his new ministry, Life to the Full, which brings together theology and mental health support
How churches can better support those struggling with depression and anxiety
If you or someone you love is navigating mental illness as a Christian, this episode will provide hope, practical insights, and encouragement to remind you: you are not alone, and you are deeply loved by God.
Want to hear more from Chris? Subscribe to the Sunburnt Souls podcast, check out Down, Not Out, and follow his work at chriscipollone.com
Keep reading to dive into Chris’s powerful testimony and discover how the gospel brings healing in the midst of mental illness.
Why don’t we dive right in—where are you at the moment? What’s keeping you busy?
Chris Cipollone:
Originally a schoolteacher, I went to Bible college and pastored a church for ten years—from 2010 to 2020. Since then, I’ve been focusing more on speaking and writing. I also have a side hustle in property—just a fun fact about me! Bit of a jack-of-all-trades, but ministry is where my heart is. Property just helps fund that so I can do it more and more.
David Quak:
Yeah, a bit like literal tent-making! So, is it property development or renovations?
Chris Cipollone:
Yeah, property development. So, modern-day tent-making, I guess you could say!
David Quak:
It really is! I read your book over the last couple of days and found it really insightful. You’re not afraid to share your story. How did that come about?
This book unpacks many aspects of depression and anxiety, and brings our gospel identity to bear on each one
Depression can lead to self-condemnationand yet the gospel tells us there is no condemnation in Christ.
Anxiety leads us to inner turmoilbut the gospel assures us of the love of God and the peace that comes with knowing him.
Whether you have experienced mental illness yourself, or want to understand depression and anxiety to care for somebody you love, this book provides a personal and theologically-thoughtful reflection on the challenges facing Christians in this area.
Written by a pastor from his own experience of depression and anxiety.
Short accessible chapters with reflection questions for each one.
Down, Not Out": How Faith Speaks Into Depression & Anxiety
The book starts with me checking into a psychiatric hospital back in 2014. Between 2012 and 2014, I was at Bible college, doing some church work, but I was spiraling more and more into anxiety—and, as I later realised, depression. Six weeks before I was due to graduate, I ended up in hospital, facing a real crisis.
It wasn’t a faith crisis—I wasn’t doubting my salvation—but it was definitely a ministry crisis and even a crisis of identity. Who was I? What did I have to offer? How did I see myself? Here I was, supposedly having mastered theology, yet I was in a hospital.
I started asking myself: What would I say to someone else in this situation? After three years of studying theology, I realised that sometimes preachers aren’t great at practising what they preach. That led me to journaling and writing, which eventually turned into the book. By God’s grace, it has blessed many people, which is a huge privilege.
David Quak:
That’s excellent. I really liked the structure of the book—short chapters with reflections at the end. Why did you include those reflections?
Chris Cipollone:
Funny thing about becoming an author—I’m not much of a writer! And they say if you want to be an author, you have to be a writer. But I look at it the other way—I empathise with the non-writer. I know what it’s like to pick up a huge volume and think, Nope, not for me.
So, I wanted short chapters that people could digest in bite-sized chunks. I also considered people struggling with mental illness, who may not have the cognitive capacity at that moment to take in long, complex sentences. Sometimes we just need something straightforward when we’re struggling. The reflections at the end help turn thoughts into actions, making the book more than just something to read—it becomes something to practice.
David Quak:
That’s excellent. You said the book starts with you in a psychiatric hospital. What led up to that, if you don’t mind me asking?
Chris Cipollone:
Yeah, sure. My final year of Bible college was 2014, and around January or February, I was offered a ministry position at the church where I was already serving as a student minister. But leading into college, I had always thought I’d go into school chaplaincy—I’d been a schoolteacher before.
So, I was wrestling with my plans versus God’s plans. My senior pastor was really gracious. He told me I didn’t have to decide straight away; I had until about September to figure it out. They needed to sort out budgets and staffing by then, but I could take my time.
For any final-year Bible college student, that’s a dream—knowing there’s a job waiting for you.
David Quak:
Yeah, sure.
Chris Cipollone: And I can just enjoy the final year of study. But for me, it was probably the worst thing that could have happened—not through any fault of the senior pastor, but just because of my own spiraling and dysfunction. I just thought about it all the time.
Should I go? Should I stay? Is there another option? Maybe God’s going to reveal something else. Who knows? But that kind of ambiguity really did my head in. I went in thinking I was anxious, but the psychiatrist very quickly diagnosed it as depression.
Every time I considered an option, whatever it was, in my depressive state, all I could see was the negative. And so dread started to fill in. I thought I could strategise my way out of it—if I just creatively worked around this problem, I’d find that “promised land” experience God had for me in my future. But it just never happened.
What did happen was more and more sleepless nights, more anxiety, more fear. It got to the point where I had a deadline for this job, and I just couldn’t make a decision. And it wasn’t just about the job—it became a flashpoint for the fact that I had no idea where I was in life. No internal sense of stability or peace.
I’d been seeing a psychologist, I’d been on medication, but I just knew I needed more help. That’s how I explained it to my wife. The next logical step was hospitalisation because that was the next level of intervention I hadn’t explored.
So, I went in voluntarily—frankly, with very little hope that it would do anything. But I thought, I’ve got two kids and a wife—I owe it to them to at least try something. And really, that moment became a turning point for me.
David Quak: Okay. What actually happens in the hospital over those two weeks?
Chris Cipollone: Yeah, good question, because I had no idea.
David Quak: Yeah, well... yeah, yeah.
Chris Cipollone: I’d only known one person who’d ever done it, and it’s one of those things you don’t really want to probe too much into because it’s still a bit of a taboo. That’s part of why I wanted to write the book—to help normalise it.
I went in on a Friday, and I remember that being significant because they run programs and classes Monday to Friday. By the time I was admitted, there wasn’t much to do over the weekend except get used to the reality that hey, I’m in a psych hospital.
The first thing they did was connect me with a psychiatrist—not just a psychologist, but someone who could look at my medications. On reflection, that was one of the great mercies. It was a safe place to explore some trial and error with medication and get things right.
For me, that had been a long journey, but I finally found a type of medication that worked. It took a while, but that was a huge part of it.
Then there were the daily programs—kind of like day classes. Sometimes there were group sessions with other patients, covering more structured psychological theory. Other times, it was art therapy or even gardening therapy—just practicing mindfulness and grounding techniques.
So, it was a mix of structured psychological support and working closely with a doctor to manage the medical side of things.
David Quak: Okay. Yeah, that actually sounds... I mean, in a way, kind of nice? Because when you’re dealing with big decisions like that—and you’d been a teacher, which isn’t exactly a walk in the park—a couple of weeks with someone speaking into your life... I think I could handle some of that.
Chris Cipollone: Yeah. It’s funny because I’m now exploring spiritual retreats, and there’s some overlap there.
What Happens in a Psychiatric Hospital? Chris Cipollone Shares His Experience
I was really blessed to have private health insurance, so I could go to a hospital that didn’t feel too much like a hospital. I’ve been to others that felt a lot more sterile, a lot more clinical. The hardest part was just the emotional weight of it—the realisation that I’m in a psych hospital. What does that say about where I’m at in life?
Actual picture of the Adult Mental Health Unit at Tweed Hospital.
But in terms of the actual experience? Yeah, you’re right. It was aesthetically beautiful, the classes were helpful, and the other nice thing was meeting other people who were just like me—people who seemed completely normal but were just having a hard time.
It wasn’t that old-school image of a sanatorium or anything like that. The staff had worked really hard to remove that stigma, and it made a huge difference.
So yeah, in that way, it was really helpful. It was quiet, structured, and actually quite rejuvenating.
Chris Cipollone
Once I got through the identity crisis of "What am I doing here in the first place?"
David Quak
Yeah, that's awesome. I might just pause for a sec, Chris. I think there's a dog barking.
Chris Cipollone
I don't know if you could hear it. Yeah, okay.
David Quak
You've been doing this longer than me. I didn’t realise how many things just intrude on a recording. I let the neighbours jump in the pool, or it can be anything—someone tapping a pen. You might not see, but I’m on a chair away from a table because I’m a fidgeter.
Chris Cipollone
Please stop me if you need to.
David Quak
Yeah, no, all good. Chris, you just mentioned spiritual retreats, and lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about that. What’s drawn you towards them?
Chris Cipollone
Yeah, look, you’ve caught me at a really interesting time, Dave. I’m about a week away from knowing whether it will happen or not, but I’m close to securing some seed funding to start something really exciting—holistic Christian flourishing. That’s the tagline of the ministry, where we bring together clinical psychologists, relationship counsellors, and biblical counsellors under one roof to really help the whole person—heart, soul, and mind.
Life To The Full. Bringing Theology & Mental Health Together: Chris’s New Ministry Vision
And part of that, alongside an in-person clinic that offers telehealth services, is something I’m really excited about: the spiritual retreats component. I’m hoping, dreaming, and praying that this will take a lot of different paths—retreats for pastors, marriage retreats, spiritual renewal retreats, even evangelistic retreats for people who might be interested in exploring Christianity but aren’t comfortable stepping inside a church building.
It’s something I think is desperately needed, especially in the Protestant tradition. I’m not anti-Catholic or anything like that, but I recognise that in our particular tribes, we’ve sometimes missed out on the intersection of robust theology and deep spiritual formation. It’s often seen as an either/or, but my belief is that good theology should lead to a deeper love of God and love of neighbour, rather than just being an intellectual exercise.
John MacArthur and others have written a lot about how deep spiritual formation often happens through trials and adversity. That’s certainly been my experience. You do all this groundwork—listening to sermons, joining growth groups—and it’s all great. But the real return on investment comes when you hit a crisis point. What is your house built on?
I’m really hopeful that in helping others navigate life’s challenges, we can show that suffering isn’t a threat to faith—it’s often where God does His greatest work. And that’s where these retreats come in.
David Quak
I love it. It’s funny you mentioned anti-Catholic sentiment. I don’t know how we could be, when it’s guys like Henri Nouwen and other Catholic thinkers who’ve led the way in retreats for years. We’ve taken decades to catch on!
Chris Cipollone
Exactly! If you look at the early church fathers, even post-Reformation, retreats were something people did. Somewhere in the last 100–200 years, we dropped it. And as John Mark Comer says, now is the time to bring them back. We’re so digitally saturated, so busy, so distracted. We need to centre ourselves—not just learning about God, but spending time with Him.
David Quak
Oh, I love that, Chris. We actually just went through John Mark’s four-week Sabbath teaching from Practicing the Way. First, as a family—just me, Jess, and the kids. Then we did it as a life group. Then as a church. So I’ve been through it three times now, and I think it’s finally starting to sink in!
It goes against the grain of everything—consumerism, speed, hurry, ministry success. But when you stop… your soul comes alive again. So yeah, keep us posted on these retreats!
Chris Cipollone
I certainly will. I think it’ll be confronting for a lot of people. For me, hospital wasn’t a retreat in the traditional sense, but that experience forced me to stop, reflect, and not just try to go around my pain but step right into it. To ask, “God, what are You trying to tell me through this?”
That’s confronting. But I truly believe that if we do it well—if we embrace that process—Christians, of all people, should be the ones most able to say, “I don’t have it all together.” Our whole faith is based on the fact that we need a Saviour greater than ourselves.
And yet, functionally, we often try to present like we’ve got it all figured out. But God’s saying, “No, you don’t. And that’s why I sent Christ.” So we can step into that with security, knowing our identity is in Him. I’m really praying this ministry bears a lot of fruit.
David Quak
I think it’s awesome. And I love that you pointed out that while there will be moments of beauty—sitting by a stream or whatever—when we get quiet, it can be confronting. Because suddenly, we’re not distracted anymore. And all those deep things in our soul demand to be addressed.
Chris Cipollone
Yeah. You’re letting that gentle whisper get a little bit louder.
David Quak: And I'm so glad to hear you're doing it with a team—psychologists, holistic health professionals, and people who can get alongside.
Chris Cipollone: Yeah, that's always been my approach with the book and the speaking ministry. I'm very careful to tell people I'm not a psychologist, and I never want to promise something I can't deliver. But what I do say is, if you don't think about mental health through the prism of theology, you're missing something about the whole person God has made you to be.
So my whole perspective is, it’s not an either-or. Let’s bring in the best clinicians, the best theologians, the best relationship counsellors, and do it all together under one banner. Because what I’ve found is that a lot of these professionals are working in isolation, but they actually want to be part of a team.
So, watch this space! If you asked me in a week's time, I’d probably have a definite answer, but the seed funding is looking likely.
David Quak: Oh, that’s fantastic! You mentioned the theological approach, Chris. What’s your theological understanding of mental illness and how it works? Because I feel like that’s one of the biggest misconceptions out there, and I feel led to speak into it. Now, I don’t have your level of experience yet, but theologically, how do we wrestle with this intersection between faith and mental illness?
Chris Cipollone: Yeah, there are so many angles to it, right? There’s the identity angle, the sin angle, the healing angle, the faith angle. People ask, "Is this happening because I don’t have enough faith?" There are all sorts of platitudes we like to throw out—"Just pray more," or "Have more faith."
I’d put it like this: first, God can use discomfort and suffering, and we shouldn’t automatically see it as a threat. Now, it’s easy for me to say that now, ten years into my journey, but I certainly didn’t feel that way back then. Even the word failing is interesting. In a lot of faith circles, if you fail at something, there’s no room to challenge that theologically.
But if I feel like God doesn’t care about me, does that mean He actually doesn’t care? No. I need to validate the feeling—it’s real. But I also need to have another narrative in my mind and spirit that says, There are promises in Scripture. There is historical faithfulness. There’s evidence that God hasn’t forgotten me.
And ultimately, the greatest evidence is Christ. A crucified Son who says, Look how much I care about you. Romans 5:8—"God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
I think the identity piece is huge. I talk about this in my book—when everything in my life was crashing down, I wasn’t a great pastor, I wasn’t a great husband, I wasn’t a great father at that point. But I was still a beloved child of God.
The late Henri Nouwen was one of the twentieth century's greatest spiritual writers, and this book brings together two of his most inspirational pastoral works.
LIFE OF THE BELOVED asks how one can live a spiritual life in a completely secular culture. The greatest challenge, concludes Nouwen, is to bridge the gap between secular and sacred within the human self as a human being beloved of God.
And that is secure, whether I’m at my highest high or my lowest low. The irony is, that security—knowing my identity wasn’t in my ability to perform, but in God’s faithfulness—actually helped lift me out of it, along with other, more secular treatments.
David Quak: That’s so good.
Chris Cipollone: The conversation around sin is really important, but also really fraught, and we need to be careful. This is probably the biggest area where secular psychology and Christianity are at odds.
What I would say about sin is this: If Adam and Eve had not fallen, I don’t think we would have mental illness in the world.
So, on a broad, theological level, we’d have to say that depression, anxiety, and mental illness are a product of the fall. But that’s not the same as saying, "I’m depressed because I committed a specific sin."
We have to differentiate between the general and the specific.
David Quak: Yep. Super important distinction.
Chris Cipollone: Exactly. And at the same time, we need to be super gentle and wise. If we overlay this with the Book of Proverbs, for example—I don’t think I got depressed because I did something wrong. But with my depression, I can make wise or foolish choices.
So somewhere in that, there’s a way for Christians—who have a deep sense of security before God—to say, Okay, this might not be my fault on a big-picture level, but I may need to change some things that are compounding my pain through poor choices.
For example, I might want to numb my trauma with alcohol, sex, or anger. And as Christians, we need to repent of those things.
But that’s not the same as saying, "Like Job’s friends, all your suffering is happening because you’ve sinned against the Lord." That’s just bad theology.
David Quak: Yeah, absolutely.
Chris Cipollone: And yet Job is still faced with a choice in how he responds to that—just as we all are. Sin does come into it, but we need to be really careful and thoughtful about how we bring it in. If done the right way, it can lead to reflection and growth. But if it's done the wrong way, it can lead to condemnation and doubting one's own salvation.
David Quak: I really love that, Chris. It acknowledges the presence of sin but not personal condemnation. You just used the word condemnation—and that’s so important because, so often, people assume suffering must be the result of sin. Even Jesus had to address that. People came to him and asked, Who sinned that this man was born blind?
David Quak: He wouldn’t have had to address it if that wasn’t a common worldview.
Chris Cipollone: Yep. And he says, Neither.
David Quak: Yeah, that’s right. It’s not because of that.
Chris Cipollone: No. God is not a retributive God—He doesn’t get vengeful on us. There’s no direct cause-and-effect like that. Sure, we live in a fallen world because of Adam and Eve, but not in that specific way. At the same time, we are all faced with the challenge that, when we’re not functioning well, we become more susceptible.
Some might call it toxic or destructive behaviour. A Christian would likely call it sinful behaviour. But even then, it's not the reason for depression. And even if we do recognise areas where we’ve fallen short, we approach that with security in Christ, knowing we can always come back to the Lord and seek reconciliation with our neighbour.
Because, honestly, when my mental health isn’t great, I know I’m not the easiest person to be around. I compound pain—not just for myself but for those around me. I get short, impatient, angry—more than I normally would. And I have to be careful. On the one hand, I need to give myself grace, but on the other hand, I can’t just excuse it by saying, Oh, it’s just the depression, get over it.
That’s not a healthy response either. But the real difference—coming back to your original question about theology—is that we approach all of this from a place of deep security in Christ. And that changes everything.
David Quak: Yeah. You talk about gospel identity a lot in your book. I’ve got a quote here:
“We are not defined by bipolar, schizophrenia, or addiction. These may be significant parts of our journey, but they are not the core of who we are. Rather, we are beloved children of God. And this, more than anything else, must shape how we navigate mental illness.”
David Quak: That was one of your earlier statements in the book, and for me, it was a moment where I thought, Okay, I want to read on. Because if that’s the foundation, then this message truly brings freedom.
Chris Cipollone: Yeah, it does. Because whether we realise it or not, we live in a meritocracy. If you perform at work, you get promoted. If you do well in school, you get better grades. But that’s not God’s economy. In God's economy, you are deeply loved—no matter what. And there's something profoundly beautiful about everything falling apart, yet discovering that the foundation is still firm.
Chris Cipollone: When I was in hospital, I actually had a clearer faith than ever before. We always say everything we have is in the Lord, but day to day, we don’t really live like that’s true. One passage that took on new meaning for me was the widow and the two coins. There’s something pure about having very little and still choosing to give. It’s not about what you produce or perform.
By earthly standards, that widow was a failure—just like, by earthly standards, I was a failure when I was in a psychiatric hospital. But Jesus looks at that act of worship and says, That’s what I desire. Yes, steward your family well. Steward your ministry well. But ultimately, your identity is this: You are my child. See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! (1 John 3:1). And I realised that truth more than ever in that hospital room.
David Quak: Yeah. And building on that, Jesus had such a deep affection for people like that widow—not just her, but anyone who was in touch with their own brokenness. There was something about humility that drew him in. It’s like the people who knew they didn’t have it all together were the ones who received the most grace.
Chris Cipollone: And if you look at the Sermon on the Mount, who are the blessed? It's the meek. It's the outcast. It's the bleeding woman who just touches the hem of the garment, the paralytic that gets lowered down through the roof. There's something about hitting a point of desperation—both spiritually and emotionally. Paul Tripp says, "There’s no neutrality in suffering."
And I think he's right. It either drives you further away from God or closer to Him, but you're never the same. If we can lean into that and see it as an opportunity—not an easy opportunity, right?—we're not making light of the difficulty. It's profoundly hard. And at the same time, it also provides you with a choice.
Where am I going to run? I could run to something that's not God, or I could run into the arms of my loving Heavenly Father.
David Quak: No, I think that's fantastic, Chris. I know for myself, during my times of darkness, my understanding of God's love for me went from my head to my heart. I went from knowing about Him to fully knowing Him—knowing His grace, His affection for me. Not just that He loved me, but that He liked me as well.
Chris Cipollone: I remember that love-to-like paradigm as well. It was eye-opening. And I think, for me, becoming a father and realising, okay, my kids aren't always easy, but fundamentally, I am so glad they're in my life. Warts and all, frustrations and all. If I, as an imperfect human being, can feel a measure of that, how much deeper is the satisfaction of my perfectly loving Father?
David Quak: It's crazy, isn't it? Just getting to that place where it becomes real is so freeing. Why do you think it takes us so long to get there, Chris?
Chris Cipollone: I think we're distracted. We struggle with the abstract. We’re tangible human beings, and if something is right in front of us—whether it’s, in my case, a property business, or even a church to steward, or people whose approval I seek—we grab onto it.
And let’s be honest, while we do see God in creation and in His church, He is also invisible. Jesus said, "Blessed are those who believe and yet have not seen." It’s hard. So we hear the lessons, and deep in God’s Spirit, we genuinely believe them. But it's easy to fall into spiritual amnesia and not look for God in everyday life.
I've noticed that the people with the deepest faith are the ones who can see God in the everyday. There's no sacred-secular divide for them. Where we go wrong is that we forget. We’re easily distracted. And again, that’s not a condemnation—it’s just human nature. But when those distractions fail us, when we hit that moment of desperation, we ask, "What have I got left?" And then we realise that all we ever had—our only sure hope—was God. Everything else promised something it couldn’t deliver.
David Quak: Yeah, excellent. Chris, do you think there are any unhelpful practices still hanging around the mainstream Protestant church that we’d love to see people set free from? I hope that the whole "who sinned, this man or his parents?" kind of thinking is fading out. I think people are slowly realising that's not good theology.
But are there other unhelpful practices? Or, on the flip side, what do you think churches and faith communities could do better to minister to, support, or encourage people with mental illness?
Chris Cipollone: Huge question. I’ve been blessed to speak in enough faith communities to notice trends and patterns. You’re right—the poor theology around the retributive principle ("Who sinned, this man or his parents?") is fading out. That’s a win.
There’s also a growing awareness that saying, "Just pray through it," isn’t the whole answer. Prayer is essential, but it may not be the entire solution. So, I think the theological space is improving.
Where we need to grow is in the pastoral space—how we practically care for people. Mental illness is often chronic, not acute. I talk about this in my book. At my church, for example, we cook meals for new parents or for people recovering from surgery. That’s great. But the "meal paradigm" assumes that after 6–8 weeks, you’ll be better.
What churches need to understand is that this is a long, side-by-side journey.
Chris Cipollone: When we're committing to love one another, it's going to be a slow burn. There will be a lot of ups and downs. Quite frankly, it’s going to be really unrewarding at times because you’ll be sowing into people and issues, and it may take years—dare I say, even decades—before you see tangible progress.
That's a really hard reality to accept, and it’s why I think we need professionals and clinicians around us. That burden is too much for a pastor or a community to carry alone. I think where we often get it wrong is in our expectations around time frames.
David Quak: When I read that in your book, I thought, "Oh, I think I’ve done that." You used the example of a broken leg, and I may have even said something similar in the last six months. I was trying to illustrate to someone that mental illness is as obvious as a broken leg, but really, it’s not.
Chris Cipollone: The intention behind that comparison is right. What that statement is trying to convey is that mental illness is a legitimate condition, and you do need to seek help for it. But what I’m trying to highlight for faith communities is that the treatment plan for a broken leg is very different from the treatment plan for depression. And the latter is probably going to take a lot longer.
David Quak: That’s something I’ve learned from, actually. It’s changed how I communicate about it. Because, yeah, it’s different—it’s a whole other level. I also liked that you picked up on a video that ended with something like, "As the nations walk away from God, antidepressants are on the rise." I remember you saying that didn’t sit well with you. Could you explain that a bit more, Chris?
Chris Cipollone: Yeah. First of all, the idea of a nation walking away from God—I guess I’m Australian, so my vision is not for a theocracy. I’m not advocating for a "Christian nation"—I’m about the kingdom of God. So that’s one aspect of it. But also, it’s just an oversimplification.
My whole message is about drawing near to God because He can help you. And on the flip side, walking away from God will harm you. So I’m not against that sentiment entirely. But here’s the key—if it’s not framed through a whole-person lens, it’s problematic. That kind of statement implies that if I just had more faith, I wouldn’t be depressed. And that’s way too simplistic.
There are chemical realities, relational realities, and external challenges—things like screen time, distraction, existential crises, climate change, and housing affordability. These issues make people feel uneasy, and there’s no easy solution. Just on a human psychological level, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. So it’s not that I completely disagree with the statement, but it needs to be presented in a more balanced way. It’s not my vision for a country, and it’s not my vision of holistic restoration.
David Quak: Hey man, I’m with you on that. I also really appreciate what you said about bringing meals to people—it comes from a place of love, but even deeper, it comes from a place of community. You highlight the importance of community in tracking with people who have mental illness. Have you found that to be true in your faith community?
Chris Cipollone: Absolutely. Something that didn’t make it into my book—because it hadn’t happened yet—was that I relapsed pretty badly two years ago. I knew, statistically, it was likely to happen, and when it did, it hit me afresh. I wasn’t hospitalised this time around, but those I could closely confide in, along with clinical professionals, played a crucial role.
Faith communities have a deeply valuable role—as long as they know what their role is. The church’s job is not to treat or diagnose—that’s the domain of professionals. But what professionals can’t do is walk side by side with love in the way that brothers and sisters in the church can.
So the key for churches is not to jump to conclusions or assumptions about a person’s situation. Instead, they should take a slow, curious, long-term approach. Simply checking in—"How are you going? Do you want to grab a coffee? Do you need anything?"—isn’t clinical, but it’s deeply relational. That’s something the church can uniquely offer, and it’s incredibly important.
How to Get in Touch with Chris Cipollone for Speaking & Mentoring
David Quak
I love that. All right, Chris, so what's going on in your life and ministry now? And if people want to connect with you or learn more about your initiatives, or just stay in touch with the world of Chris Cipollone.
Chris Cipollone
Yeah, thanks for asking! If this conversation has brought anything up for you, check out my book. It’s called Down, Not Out: Depression, Anxiety, and the Difference Jesus Makes. A little scoop for you—I’m under contract for a second book with my publisher! It’s in the works and should hit shelves by Christmas. This one’s more in the pastoral space, not strictly about mental illness.
The book focuses on the two great commands: to love God and love your neighbour. My hope is to help Christians return to the beauty of first principles, to not lose the forest for the trees. As Jesus says in Matthew 22:40, "All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commands."
It’s not just that these commands matter—they encompass everything. Understanding love helps us understand faith. My hope is to explore what God means by love—especially in a world where the word means so many different things. What does it truly mean to love, and how does that look in practice?
I’m also available for speaking engagements if your church or conference is looking for someone in the mental health or pastoral space. On top of that, I’m working on an exciting project to bring together Christian clinical professionals, theologians, and spiritual retreats. So stay tuned for that!
David Quak
That’s awesome. I’ll include links to your pages and everything in the podcast notes. Now, Dead Elephants—is that still going?
Chris Cipollone
Yes, Dead Elephants is a podcast I do with my friend Duncan Robinson, who used to be a breakfast radio host in Sydney. The concept is to address the elephants in the room—the topics you don’t often hear preached about in church.
We aim to tackle taboo subjects and explore them through a biblical lens. Sometimes we come to clear answers; other times, it’s more about starting the conversation. But ultimately, it’s about recognising that this is God’s world, and nothing is beyond His wisdom. If it helps Christians think more deeply about their faith and its implications, then I’m happy.
David Quak
I want to endorse that—it’s fantastic! I’ve watched a couple of episodes, and you guys are hilarious, but you also get to the heart of things. You really address those elephants in the room—the topics you can’t always tackle from the pulpit.
Chris Cipollone
Thanks, mate. That’s the aim, and we’ve had some great feedback on it.
David Quak
Speaking of engagements, I’d love to get you up here! Where are you based for those interested in booking you?
Chris Cipollone
I’m based in Sydney, but I’m available nationwide. I do a bit in the States too, but most of my work is here in Australia. Don’t let distance stop you from getting in touch!
David Quak
Love it, Chris. Before we wrap up, I’d love for you to pray for us. But before that, I want to highlight the last three words of your book: You are loved. I thought that was the perfect way to end a book exploring faith and mental health. What inspired you to finish with those words?
Chris Cipollone
When I’m at my worst, I don’t feel worthy of anyone’s love. It’s hard to love myself, and it’s hard to believe others could love me. Yet God says He does.
If someone feeling unloved or unlovable reads those words, I want them to confront that lie. God’s love isn’t based on what you do—you’re not a human "doing"; you’re a human "being." You’re fearfully and wonderfully made, created in His image, and dearly loved.
God demonstrated His love on the cross. If you’re ever in despair and doubt whether God loves you, look to Christ. That’s the evidence. That’s why I ended with those words. When you’re depressed, it’s hard to believe, but it’s the truth.
Time to pray with Chris Cipollone
Lord and Father God, we thank You that You are both our Lord and our Father. You are sovereign over the universe, shepherding it with Your majesty, and yet You are also intimately attuned to each of our needs.
Thank You that You are both strong and kind, majestic and loving, powerful and gracious. For those listening who are struggling, help them to see that while faith isn’t the only piece of the puzzle, it’s a crucial one.
May they lean into their pain—not because it’s easy, but because in pain, we have the opportunity to come to Your feet. Like the bleeding woman who reached out to touch the hem of Your garment, may we cry out to You, "Lord, help me."
For Dave’s ministry, my ministry, and ultimately Your ministry, we ask for Your blessing. May it always be about Your glory and kingdom. May more people come to know the dignity they have in Christ and learn the secret of contentment, no matter their circumstances, because they have You.
In Jesus’ name, amen.
Some helpful Questions and Answers
How Can Faith Help with Depression and Anxiety?
Faith can provide a strong foundation for those struggling with depression and anxiety by offering hope, purpose, and community. Through prayer, scripture, and Christian fellowship, believers can find reassurance that they are not alone in their struggles. The Bible reminds us in Philippians 4:6-7 to bring our anxieties to God in prayer, promising peace that transcends understanding. Additionally, a Christ-centered identity helps counter negative self-perceptions, reinforcing the truth that every believer is deeply loved and valued by God.
Is Mental Illness a Sign of Weak Faith?
No, mental illness is not a sign of weak faith. The Bible is filled with examples of faithful individuals who faced deep emotional struggles—King David, Elijah, and even Paul experienced despair and hardship. Psalm 34:18 says, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Mental illness is a result of living in a fallen world, but God meets us in our pain. Seeking medical or professional help, alongside prayer and spiritual support, is a faithful response to suffering.
What Does the Bible Say About Mental Health?
The Bible acknowledges mental and emotional struggles, offering encouragement and wisdom for those facing distress. Matthew 11:28 invites the weary to find rest in Christ, while 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 describes God as "the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort." Scripture does not separate mental health from spiritual well-being but rather encourages believers to find strength in Christ, seek wise counsel, and rely on God's promises.
How Can the Church Support People with Mental Illness?
Churches can support those with mental illness by fostering a culture of grace, understanding, and practical care. This includes providing pastoral counseling, mental health resources, and a supportive community that walks alongside individuals in their journey. Training leaders in mental health awareness and partnering with Christian professionals can create a holistic support system. Most importantly, churches should offer unconditional love—reminding people that their struggles do not define them, but their identity in Christ does.
Can Prayer and Medication Work Together for Mental Health?
Yes, prayer and medication can work together as part of a holistic approach to mental health. Just as we seek medical treatment for physical illnesses, it is wise to consider professional help for mental health conditions. James 1:5 encourages believers to seek wisdom, which includes making informed decisions about healthcare. Medication, therapy, and faith are not mutually exclusive but can work together to support healing and wholeness in Christ.
Struggling with faith and mental heath? Hope and Healing Start Here
If you’ve been wrestling with mental health struggles or feeling distant in your faith, Sunburnt Souls is here to support you. Through honest conversations and shared stories, we explore faith, mental health, and the hope found in Christ.
Find encouragement, gain practical insights, and connect with a community that understands.
Visit sunburntsouls.com to access resources and listen to more episodes.
Subscribe now to stay connected and receive updates.
