Therapeutic Theological Thought

by Penrod

Motto: “All therapy ends badly.” — Sigmund Freud

“Resist, therefore, the urge to regard your history as a history of error. There is no need to discount your past. God is not grading you. Be careful in grading yourself.” — Unauthorized

The other day, the subject of a person’s failure came up. Failure in this instance was the fact that the person got fired. This person was a pastor who intentionally lived openly and preached and acted as he truly was and believed.

I challenged the description of this person’s ministry as a failure. If ministry is to be measured by a rejection of the person who is ministering, then an instance of ultimate failure was Jesus of Nazareth. He was terminated.

It is beside the point to argue that Jesus of Nazareth was a triumphant ministerial success because he rose from the dead and was thus vindicated. That argument misses the point, because anything that happened after Jesus’ death other than the ordinary continuing influence of his life (which is common to every human in that a person cannot avoid having some sort of continuing influence) is not of the human order.

I think my friend’s ministry was a success. He was present to and loved by the children and the youth, and his sermons were filled with integrity, study, and imagination. To preach as he did, he needed to be bold in his faith that God is truth and that the truth will set one free. He lived with the boldness and humanness which is a particular kind of challenge for a minister. He lived as an authentic person, loving those to whom he ministered and encouraging them to love one another. But, he got caught in some cross-fire and was asked to resign by persons with sufficient power to make that decision.

In another setting — for example as a brother in a Catholic order — his continued ministry would not have been a function of his popularity or acceptance by those in power in the congregation. As a brother in an order, he would have been moved from ministry to ministry. But then, the particular ministry that was his as a protestant pastor in a free church tradition could not have been possible.

I take this judgment that his ministry was a failure as an example of the way we are tempted to view our past lives onesidedly as a history of error. “Only now or in the future will I ever be in the right or get things right.” Some people are convinced that they never will. Of course, in the end, that truth cannot be denied. We are never “right.” Our difficulty in seeing clearly lies in the fact that right and wrong are reductive measurements.

Take depression. The seeds of depression reside in these premature and misleading self-judgments that are based upon poor vision and the presumption that my life is a history of error. Whatever else it may be, depression is a problem of vision (inner vision primarily).

With this in mind, look more carefully at depression. The problem is not that what one sees when one is depressed is necessarily unreal or untrue. Most likely it is true. “I did fail to respond to Joe,” “I did lose my job and I don’t know what to do,” “I’m living wrong but I’m not going to change.” For this reason, it does little or no good to tell ourselves or someone else who feels depressed to think positively. The person who sees and experiences the dark or negative facts of his or her situation finds such advice to be the same as "pretend what you see isn't real."

The problem is, rather, that under such circumstances a person is not seeing clearly or fully. To see more clearly when evaluating ourselves and our lives, we must ask ourselves two questions. The first is, “How did I get in this fix?” It is a good, important question. What I see as a result of this question is obviously important. However, when I am depressed or self-critical, this is the only question in my mind, which means that my vision, even though accurate, is partial.

The second question is, “How have I managed to make it this far?” This is at least as important a question. Looking in this direction forces broader vision. It can be like opening another eye. Life is not easy, and no one has made it to the here and now without personal qualities and resources. That we are here cannot have happened by grace and good luck alone, ample though they may have been. The question — “How have I managed to make it this far?” — brings other facts and experiences into our vision. In these facts and experiences, we are more likely to find the resources and qualities that we need to move ahead and to be free.

When a person is deeply depressed and down on himself or herself or carries within a charge against him- or herself, it is difficult to think of anything in answer to that question. However, even if one’s vision on that side is blank for some time, planting the question in one’s mind forces another eye to open. Seeing more clearly does not guarantee any particular outcome. A situation can get worse and death cannot be indefinitely avoided. But who would prefer the odds of driving through traffic with only partial vision?

A favorite example, which illustrates for me the difference between a history-of-error approach and something more open-minded and helpful, is the example of Peter of Galilee. Peter walked on the Sea of Galilee. You should know the story if you are a Christian. If you are not, I recommend it to you. It is found in our Jewish-Christian Bible in Matthew 14:22-33. (There are three accounts in the Gospel that recount what appears to be the same event in which Jesus comes to the disciples by walking on the water. Accounts can be found in Mark 6:45-52, in John 6:15-21, and in Matthew. Only Matthew gives an account of Peter’s aqua walk. All the preaching I remember about this story has stressed the fact that Peter lacked faith and sank. Peter failed. It is true that Peter did sink, but to me that is the least surprising outcome of the event. Of course he sank. Who would not? How, though, was it that he walked on the water? Every kid listening to this story in church as I did (probably while seeing how long I could hold my breath) knows it is only a matter of time before Peter goes down. What is exciting is (1) seeing that Peter, too, could do it and (2) wondering how long he is going to be able to do it.

Imagine Peter at the end of his life. He must have had many moments of doubt and despair. He was a prisoner in Rome, Christians were being persecuted, Jesus had not returned &9

Peter thought Jesus had promised, and he himself was about to be martyred. In that situation, what would lift his spirits? The fact that he sank? The encouraging memory for Peter must have been that he walked on the water. That is what mattered and sustained his faith, hope, and love.

I return to my friend, the preacher who was terminated. Some may say that he sank. But, whether that is so or not, while he ministered, he walked on water. And, I am happy to report that though he had tough going for a number of years, he is walking on water again. He may have an even more important ministry to children. The congregation’s loss is the world’s gain. As my mother would say, “God does all things well.”