Is Anxiety Always (or Ever) a Sin?
A Conversation with John Piper, Tim Keller, Søren Kierkegaard—and the Rest of Us
I write this as a Christian, drawing on Scripture and Christian thinkers. But anxiety doesn’t confine itself to people of faith—and neither should the conversation about it. Whether you call yourself religious, spiritual-but-not-religious, agnostic, or none of the above, anxiety is an all-too-familiar companion for many of us.
In Inside Out 2, the character Anxiety serves as both a relatable presence and a subtle antagonist. Voiced with jittery intensity, Anxiety embodies the natural worries that surface during adolescence, making her instantly recognizable to anyone who’s faced self-doubt or overthinking. However, her good intentions quickly spiral into control and fear, positioning her as an obstacle to Riley’s growth. Rather than being a villain in the traditional sense, Anxiety reflects how even helpful emotions can become harmful when they take over, making her a nuanced, believable, and emotionally complex character.
A few years ago, well-known pastor and theologian John Piper answered a listener's question about anxiety on his Desiring God podcast. His response was clear, rooted in Scripture, and—depending on your perspective—either deeply convicting or quietly troubling:
“Paul and Jesus explicitly command us not to be anxious, so to be anxious is a sin. … The godly opposite of anxiety is peace and contentment rooted in trust in God’s promises.”
Piper is drawing, of course, from familiar words of Jesus and Paul:
“Do not be anxious about your life…” (Matthew 6:25)
“Do not be anxious about tomorrow…” (Matthew 6:34)
“Do not be anxious about anything…” (Philippians 4:6)
From this, Piper concludes that when anxiety shows up in our hearts, it signals sin—a failure to trust God's sovereign care.
It’s a tidy, biblical, and—to some—a pastorally incomplete answer.
Is Anxiety Really That Simple?
Before dismissing Piper’s teaching outright, it’s worth acknowledging what some find grounding in it. His words carry biblical seriousness. They remind us that peace—not constant fear—is God’s desire for his people. And they push back against a cultural moment that sometimes baptizes anxiety as permanent identity rather than an area where growth is possible.
But many Christians—especially those living with clinical anxiety, panic attacks, trauma histories, or chronic mental health struggles—experience this framing as, at best, incomplete, and at worst, deeply harmful. It risks:
Collapsing all forms of anxiety into a moral failure
Ignoring the messy, complicated realities of human suffering
Silencing the very people Scripture often invites to cry out in their distress
Labeling anxiety as sin without nuance can close doors to compassion, understanding, and practical care—the very things that people battling anxiety most need.
Thankfully, other Christian voices offer a more layered, more pastoral way of holding together the tension between Scripture’s call to trust and the undeniable reality of anxiety.
Tim Keller: Anxiety as a Window, Not Just a Warning
The late Tim Keller, respected pastor and author, addressed anxiety often—especially through the lens of Philippians 4. For Keller, anxiety can reveal spiritual struggle, but it isn’t simply a sin to condemn. Instead, it functions as a window into the soul, exposing both our vulnerabilities and God’s invitation to deeper trust.
Keller puts it this way in a sermon he preached in 1993:
“A little anxiety is always a very good thing. Remember, there is a place where Paul says, ‘I have on me the daily anxiety of all the churches.’ So a little anxiety shows you’re a caring person, but debilitating anxiety and devastating anxiety shows good things have become ‘one things.’ Now you’re gazing on their beauty and you’re seeking them above all. You think, ‘Unless I have that, I cannot be happy.’ That is what creates debilitating anxiety and fear.”
Notice the difference? Keller doesn’t ignore the biblical commands, but he resists flattening anxiety into an automatic moral failure. Mild anxiety, he suggests, may actually be evidence of love and responsibility. It’s when anxiety becomes overwhelming—when good things become ultimate things—that it signals a deeper spiritual issue. In this way, anxiety is not just a warning sign of sin, but a diagnostic tool, inviting us to examine what we’re trusting and valuing most.
This resonates with countless believers who know the grip of anxiety all too well, but who also long for peace—not through shame, but through honest struggle and spiritual formation.
Other Christian Voices: Sin, Suffering, and the Human Condition
Many thoughtful Christian counselors and theologians stand with Keller in this more compassionate space:
Ed Welch (CCEF) frames anxiety as a spiritual and human weakness, cautioning against reducing it to disobedience alone.
Diane Langberg, a trauma psychologist, reminds us that anxiety often reflects suffering and woundedness, not rebellion.
Zach Eswine, reflecting on Charles Spurgeon’s lifelong battle with depression and anxiety, underscores that even the most faithful Christians wrestle with emotional anguish.
The message? Anxiety may point to a struggle to trust—but it also reveals our frailty, our humanity, and our deep need for grace. It’s not the presence of anxiety that condemns us; it’s how we respond to it that shapes us.
What Would Kierkegaard Say?
If Søren Kierkegaard—the 19th-century Danish philosopher and Christian thinker—were listening to Piper, I suspect he’d offer both affirmation and a gentle, needed corrective.
In The Concept of Anxiety, Kierkegaard famously writes:
“Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.”
For Kierkegaard, anxiety isn’t primarily a moral failure. It’s an inevitable byproduct of being human—of bearing the terrifying gift of free will. As we stand on the edge of possibility, capable of choosing good or evil, faith or despair, anxiety arises. It’s the existential tension that comes with awareness, freedom, and responsibility.
Anxiety: Sinful, or Simply Human?
Kierkegaard would likely caution against labeling anxiety itself as sin. Instead, he sees it as:
A universal human experience, woven into our freedom and limitations
A spiritual teacher, capable of leading us into despair—or into deeper faith
A paradox, where even anxiety can coexist with sincere belief, as seen in the anguish of biblical figures like Abraham or even Jesus in Gethsemane
For Kierkegaard, the command “do not be anxious” isn’t primarily a moral indictment. It’s an invitation—to lean into God in the face of the unavoidable anxieties of existence.
What About Those Who Don’t Consider Themselves Religious?
It isn’t only pastors and philosophers who wrestle with anxiety’s role in our lives. Many secular thinkers offer profound, compassionate insights for those navigating anxiety without framing it in spiritual terms.
For example:
Brené Brown, the research professor known for her work on vulnerability, observes that anxiety often springs from uncertainty and fear of loss—and building emotional resilience, not self-condemnation, is key.
Dr. Judson Brewer, a neuroscientist and psychiatrist, describes anxiety as a learned mental habit—one that can be reshaped through mindfulness and curiosity rather than shame.
Oliver Sacks, the late neurologist and writer, reminds us that anxiety often arises from the astonishing complexity of the human brain—not simply from weak character or poor choices.
Across spiritual and secular lines, one truth emerges: Anxiety is deeply human, deeply complex, and rarely resolved through shame or over-simplified answers.
An Invitation for Anxious Souls—Wherever You Find Yourself
Whether you resonate with Piper’s call to courageous trust, Keller’s compassionate challenge, Kierkegaard’s existential honesty, or the practical wisdom of secular voices, one thing is clear:
Anxiety is part of being human.
For the Christian, it reveals areas where trust can grow—but it’s not the whole story. For those outside of faith, anxiety still whispers of our limitations, our uncertainties, and the deep longing for peace that runs through us all.
So if you live with anxiety—whether it feels like a passing worry or an ever-present shadow—hear this:
You are not broken beyond repair.
You are not disqualified from peace, from love, from hope.
Your anxiety is not your identity.
Anxiety may not vanish overnight. But with time, truth, compassion, and—for some—professional care, peace is possible. Not the peace of perfection, but the peace of knowing you are not alone, not condemned, and not without hope.