On Psychology and Faith, A Theological Exploration of Psychotherapy (II)

I did not fully appreciate the schism that exists in some circles between psychology and the Christian theology, until I took some introductory-level counseling courses for my Masters of Divinity, when I was preparing for ministry back in 2004. That was some 20 years ago now, of course, and the schism seems less wide now than it did back then. Between the various efforts in secular culture to shine a spotlight on the very real challenges of mental illness, on the one hand, and the good work of Christian psychologists like Larry Crabb, Mark McMinn, and Grant Mullens, on the other, there seems to be much more cross pollination between these two disciplines than there was two decades ago. Back then, one of the hotly debate topics in my pastoral counseling courses was whether or not there could be any reconciliation between faith and psychology at all; and though none of them were endorsed by our instructors, I did read a good number of books by evangelical pastors, back then, that issued a flat-out, resounding “no!” to the question.

Today, as I say, there is less a schism than an uneasy cohabitation. Certainly most clergy that I know and work alongside will agree unbegrudgingly that psychology has its place. Many churches I know offer bona-fide Christian counseling services, and those that don’t frequently refer parishioners to such services. The Christian embrace of psychology is not universal, by any means. I still have colleagues among the clergy who cock questioning eyebrows when discussing the reality of mental health in the church. Richard Beck, one of my favorite psychologist-theologians, recently did an extended series on his blog about the challenges many Christians face in understanding and responding well to mental health issues (I’d encourage you to check out that series here). So there are still many corners of Christendom where psychology, and the issues it addresses, are viewed with great suspicion.

As someone who has studied psychology at length, and worked for many years in pastoral ministry, who has, as it were seen both sides of the fence, I find this suspicion difficult to understand. As someone who has personally benefitted from the work of a trained therapist, I find it regrettable. My personal conviction is that the theories, findings, hypotheses, and models-of-the-self provided by psychology can actually expand and enrich our theology as Christians, and the help that psychology can provide to those suffering mentally is a gift that should be welcome in the church.

I have wondered if one of the reasons Christians might feel uneasy about making space for psychology in the ministry of the church has to do with an incomplete, and largely unbiblical understanding of what human beings are. In Christian circles, we tend to think of human nature as a body/soul duality in some sense. Sometimes this is divided even further, to a body/spirit/soul dichotomy, or a mind/body/spirit division, but the key point is that “we” (whoever we are) are not our “bodies.” The true “me” is the immaterial, interior, soul within, but not the flesh and bone vessel that contains it.

Biblically, however, human beings are not so much “souls” contained in “bodies” as they are body/soul unities. Space precludes an extended exploration of this claim, but most contemporary theological readings of the scripture point in this direction: that the human being is not a body/soul duality, but a unity.

We do not “have bodies”; we are bodies.

Neither do we “have souls”; we are souls. And body and soul together make the human creature what it is. In lieu of an extended biblical exegesis, let me simply point you to the bodily resurrection of Jesus to make this point. Our bodies are not immaterial parts of ourselves, easily cast off when no longer needed. They are so integral to who we are that we are promised, in the Christian hope, resurrection bodies like the resurrection bodies of our Lord.

If it’s true, this claim has all kinds of implications when it comes to making sense of psychology as a Christian, but two stand out in particular to me. On the one hand, it would mean that, in principle, Christians should not hesitate to seek the help of psychologists for mental unwellness, any more than they’d hesitate to see a doctor for a broken bone. If the body and the soul really do make an integrated whole, then it stands to reason that both can legitimately be addressed by modern medicine, and neither is “off limits” as a domain of scientific understanding.

On the other hand, the body/soul unity we discover in scripture reminds us that both can and should be an object of Christian care, concern, and compassion. If the body is integral to being human, then caring for its physical wellness matters. And if the soul—the “inner self”—is inextricably bound to the body, then caring for our mental wellness matters just as much.

There is more to say, certainly, about the role of psychology in a Christian understanding of the self. More to say, for instance, about acknowledging the limits of psychology. And more to say about the way that Christian faith imposes its own unique ethic on the use and practice of psychology. But if nothing else, the fact that humans are as much their minds as they are their bodies should assure us that there is a place in a Christian understanding of the world, for the things that psychology can teach us about ourselves.