At the Well
(These reflections were inspired by a friend’s post entitled “theology or therapy?” )
Theology: (my paraphrase) Who is God, and what does this have to do with me?
Therapy: The treatment of illness or disability. (Editorial commentary: Too often the suppression of symptoms rather than correction of root causes.)
I find that the more I focus on people and events outside myself, the less power my “issues” have over me. (Conversely, the more I focus on myself and my issues, the bigger my problems seem and the less I care about anyone else.) This of course does not mean that when my focus is outward I cease to need healing and repentance, and I do not mean to make light of anyone's pain or suggest that counseling is always bad. I just think we need to get over ourselves and move on to more important things. The irony here is that though the process may be uncomfortable and even painful at times, adjusting to a theology of self-denial (self-forgetfulness might be a better term) renders unnecessary most "therapy" as such.
In class last week we talked about how we Western moderns have lost our sense of the transcendent and can no longer conceive of anything bigger or more important than us. This may well be a major cause of the psychological malaise and manifold complexes that plague us as a society. When each individual considers himself or herself to be central to the universe rather than one small character in a much greater story, we succumb to anxiety at not being able to control the plot, become riddled with fear that things might not go our way, take misfortunes as personal insults, and get angry with anyone who is not "with the program" as regards our demands and feelings. Finally (and perhaps worst) we treat God as the great vending machine in the sky which when we feed it our small change and push the right buttons should grant us our heart's desires. We are perpetually disappointed. Abandoning awe, we fall prey to despair.
True humility is not feeling small and worthless; it is understanding one's place in the cosmos and putting God and others first. Dying to oneself requires sacrifice of some things but also frees us from the self-pity and self-loathing that consume so much emotional energy, damage our relationships, rob us of abundant life, and render us useless in our vocation of loving others. Instead of living in service to the Kingdom, we turn to entertainment and addictions to distract us from the gnawing void that comes with idolatry of the self. We end up tempted to conceit (the attitude that “I'm better and more important than everybody else and am therefore justified in belittling, neglecting, or abusing them and putting my needs first”), shame (the self-deprecating conviction that we are beneath God's grace), or a convoluted bipolar mixture of the two. The cult of "feeling good" replaces the call to be good and do right.
Our culture's obsession with self-esteem or lack thereof is caused by the unhealthy and very unbiblical idea that we can decide on our own what we are worth and that we should think well of ourselves regardless of our character and behavior. Pop psychology tells us that when this formula doesn't work there's something wrong with us (which is true) but fails to admit that there might be something wrong with the formula. Then it rules out the concept of sin and approaches every problem as a clinically treatable disorder. When our false and petty notions of self and reality don't sit well with us, we go running to the professional clergy for spiritual Band-Aids and Aspirin (or Valium) instead of giving ourselves over to the Spirit for the life-giving "open heart surgery" of refinement and transformation.
Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well (John 4) exemplifies what Christian counseling should be. (Worth noting: Jesus’ disciples, the chosen, don’t ‘get it’, and the unclean outcast does.) He treats her with dignity, listens to her, and entrusts her with important truths, but also matter-of-factly confronts her with her past. In naming her sin and offering her a solution beyond herself (living water) he frees her from stigma and restores her to her community. Instead of becoming defensive about her tarnished history or insulted at the suggestion that she might need anything from this stranger, she responds with gratitude and awe.
God, grant us the wisdom to be so gracious with one another when giving and receiving counsel. Spare us from the temptation to superficial antidotes to pain. Teach us the humility to recognize our need for the healing water and food that only the Messiah can give. Amen.
Theology: (my paraphrase) Who is God, and what does this have to do with me?
Therapy: The treatment of illness or disability. (Editorial commentary: Too often the suppression of symptoms rather than correction of root causes.)
I find that the more I focus on people and events outside myself, the less power my “issues” have over me. (Conversely, the more I focus on myself and my issues, the bigger my problems seem and the less I care about anyone else.) This of course does not mean that when my focus is outward I cease to need healing and repentance, and I do not mean to make light of anyone's pain or suggest that counseling is always bad. I just think we need to get over ourselves and move on to more important things. The irony here is that though the process may be uncomfortable and even painful at times, adjusting to a theology of self-denial (self-forgetfulness might be a better term) renders unnecessary most "therapy" as such.
In class last week we talked about how we Western moderns have lost our sense of the transcendent and can no longer conceive of anything bigger or more important than us. This may well be a major cause of the psychological malaise and manifold complexes that plague us as a society. When each individual considers himself or herself to be central to the universe rather than one small character in a much greater story, we succumb to anxiety at not being able to control the plot, become riddled with fear that things might not go our way, take misfortunes as personal insults, and get angry with anyone who is not "with the program" as regards our demands and feelings. Finally (and perhaps worst) we treat God as the great vending machine in the sky which when we feed it our small change and push the right buttons should grant us our heart's desires. We are perpetually disappointed. Abandoning awe, we fall prey to despair.
True humility is not feeling small and worthless; it is understanding one's place in the cosmos and putting God and others first. Dying to oneself requires sacrifice of some things but also frees us from the self-pity and self-loathing that consume so much emotional energy, damage our relationships, rob us of abundant life, and render us useless in our vocation of loving others. Instead of living in service to the Kingdom, we turn to entertainment and addictions to distract us from the gnawing void that comes with idolatry of the self. We end up tempted to conceit (the attitude that “I'm better and more important than everybody else and am therefore justified in belittling, neglecting, or abusing them and putting my needs first”), shame (the self-deprecating conviction that we are beneath God's grace), or a convoluted bipolar mixture of the two. The cult of "feeling good" replaces the call to be good and do right.
Our culture's obsession with self-esteem or lack thereof is caused by the unhealthy and very unbiblical idea that we can decide on our own what we are worth and that we should think well of ourselves regardless of our character and behavior. Pop psychology tells us that when this formula doesn't work there's something wrong with us (which is true) but fails to admit that there might be something wrong with the formula. Then it rules out the concept of sin and approaches every problem as a clinically treatable disorder. When our false and petty notions of self and reality don't sit well with us, we go running to the professional clergy for spiritual Band-Aids and Aspirin (or Valium) instead of giving ourselves over to the Spirit for the life-giving "open heart surgery" of refinement and transformation.
Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well (John 4) exemplifies what Christian counseling should be. (Worth noting: Jesus’ disciples, the chosen, don’t ‘get it’, and the unclean outcast does.) He treats her with dignity, listens to her, and entrusts her with important truths, but also matter-of-factly confronts her with her past. In naming her sin and offering her a solution beyond herself (living water) he frees her from stigma and restores her to her community. Instead of becoming defensive about her tarnished history or insulted at the suggestion that she might need anything from this stranger, she responds with gratitude and awe.
God, grant us the wisdom to be so gracious with one another when giving and receiving counsel. Spare us from the temptation to superficial antidotes to pain. Teach us the humility to recognize our need for the healing water and food that only the Messiah can give. Amen.
posted by Ingrid at 9:34 PM
1 Comments:
Ingrid - Finally read this! Thank you! I agree... and I also wonder if some people (like me) need the verbal processing that comes with counseling... and as we talked about in the car, there must be several different types of counseling out there because some fit what you and Chad are talking about and some do not. Some are closer to the example in John... Someone talked about how the more we know ourself, the more we know God. But this is not in a navel-gazing way... I'm talking about getting to know yourself so that...(you fill in the blanks with 'you can love others better','you can hear others better', 'you can receive more of God's grace') It's not an end in itself, but self-awareness has got to be part of the journey we are on with God. This is what was happening with the woman on the well... she was getting to know her past in a new way as she was confronted with the fact that someone else knew it and yet loved her anyway! If we live our lives without reflecting on the past and getting to know who we are, the damage we can do to ourselves and others is astounding.
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