My Parents Made Me Do It

Chapter 14

Psychotherapy, the Past and Christianity

Wisdom is the principal thing. Therefore get wisdom. And in all your getting, get understanding. Exalt her, and she will promote you; she will bring you honor, when you embrace her. Proverbs 4:7-8

So many of us are sold on the idea that understanding our past translates into a cure from present hurts and disabilities. Because of this, we invest great sums of money, effort, and hope into trying to understand those influences that made us the way we are today, convinced that this will bring freedom. Understanding is truly valuable, but we may be erroneously placing our hope and efforts into the pursuit of an unfruitful form of understanding.

A critical distinction has to be made. Meaningful self-awareness does not necessarily depend upon understanding how we became the way we are. I’ve learned from past experience that if I tie my shoe too tightly, I can cause myself considerable pain. Although I don’t understand the mechanism of pain or even why I have this problem and others don’t, this knowledge is still valuable. We’ve all learned through past experience that certain people can’t be trusted and that avoidance might be a wise course of action. We might not know why they are untrustworthy, but it’s enough to know that they can cause us considerable discomfort.

Knowing our past can be very helpful. We all need to get a grip upon who we are--how we act, how we affect others, and how we see life through distorted lenses. In the movie, “A Beautiful Mind,” Russell Crow played a brilliant but schizophrenic mathematician. He believed that his self-aggrandizing hallucinations were reality. These led him to a complete breakdown. Recovery required that he realize that what he had seen wasn’t reality and that it had led to his breakdown. Armed with this understanding, he was able to oppose and discount the hallucinations and to fight his way back into reality and functionality.

It wasn’t essential that Crow came to understand what had initially made him schizophrenic. He didn’t require knowledge of genetics or brain chemistry. Nor was it essential that he obtain accurate knowledge of other schizophrenics in his family tree, nor what medications his mother was using during her pregnancy. What was critical was to recognize his hallucinogenic patterns and to realize that they were no more than hallucinations.

John Modrow explains it was critical for him to be objectively shown that he wasn’t a prophet, as he had believed. He had been confronted with incontrovertible evidence. Fortunately, he hadn’t believed in his prophetic abilities for a long period of time.

His recovery from schizophrenic hallucination was the product, not of understanding the developmental stages that he went through to become a schizophrenic, but rather a recognition that his delusions didn’t reflect reality. Subsequently, Modrow was able to identify developmental circumstances that had driven him in the direction of Schizophrenia.[1] However, even if he is correct about these causal agents, this knowledge will not enable him to undo his problem. But they may be valuable in helping other families avoid that road.

There is a critical difference between understanding who we are by reflecting upon our past, and understanding developmental factors. These latter factors are far more complex and possess uncertain therapeutic value. Growth largely depends upon the former than upon the factors that formed us, although the former might require that we take note of historical patterns of thought and conduct in order to understand our present tendencies.

Sometimes knowledge is power. I was empowered to manage my feet more profitably by understanding what caused me pain. If I know how to drive a car, I can get some chores done and maybe even make some money. But sometimes knowledge doesn’t translate into power or advantage. I might know the chemical composition of newspaper ink, but this won’t help me understand the newspaper or even publish one. I might understand biologically what happened when a shark bit off my leg, but this won’t help me grow a new one or even to live without one. (I do have two legs!)

More to the point, when I look back over my life, I see certain patterns. As far back as I can remember, I had a strong tendency to anticipate rejection. As a result, I would reject others before they had an opportunity to reject me. I also recognize that this has caused needless pain. As a result of recognizing my skewed way of seeing things and that I wasn’t seeing reality as I should have, I can now make certain adjustments. I can remind myself that my feelings don’t necessarily reflect the reality of the relationship. Such knowledge allows me to exert meaningful control over my life. Having this type of knowledge, I might seek some objective feedback about what my feelings are telling me. Knowledge of developmental factors however is not only more tenuous, it doesn’t appear to be therapeutically fruitful, at least for the sufferer.

I certainly have ideas about why I’ve been so sensitive to rejection, but I might be wrong. It might be a human thing. No one enjoys rejection. Perhaps it was accentuated by my experience as a Jew on the margins of school and community life? Perhaps original sin is contributory? Perhaps a sensitivity to rejection is something I learned from my parents or even grandparents? Perhaps it’s the result of 50 factors? However, this question isn’t critical to my growth. What is critical is that I know that it’s not right to hurt others by rejecting them, and that I’m quick on the rejection trigger. Looking deeper, it was important to recognize that my rejection of others was always associated with a fear that they’d reject me first. This enabled me to become suspect of my feelings, before I’d come to any conclusions, and to correct the way that I was seeing things. However, none of these insights freed me from the feelings, although they mitigated my reaction to them. When I realize that people aren’t rejecting me, my angry reaction is quieted. Even if I did have perfect understanding of the developmental factors responsible for my feelings, there’s no reason to expect that it would banish my distorted feelings any more than understanding the shark’s motivations for biting my leg off will restore my leg.

Knowledge of my past is also important for the purpose of assigning culpability. Recognizing my past pattern of rejection, I’ve tried to correct some of my relationships by admitting my guilt. Sometimes it’s healing for both parties, sometimes not. Anita and I have been restored on so many occasions because I reexamined my behavior and confessed my guilt to her. The same pertains to our relationship with God. Recognizing our past guilt before God brings us to heaven’s gate.

A prostitute had come to Jesus; she cried over his feet, washing his feet with her tears and anointing them with precious oil. Jesus explained to His incredulous watchers that because she had understood the enormity of her guilt and the forgiveness she had received, her love transcended all bounds.[2]

We need to be reconciled to the God we’ve rejected and offended all our lives. Reconciliation is impossible without recognition and confession of our guilt.[3]

David also drew critical truths from the knowledge of his past behavior of adultery and murder. He writes,

“When I kept silent, my bones grew old through my groaning all the day long. For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me; my vitality was turned into the drought of summer. I acknowledged my sin to You, and my iniquity I have not hidden. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,’ and You forgave the iniquity of my sin.”[4]

David examined his past behavior and drew from it some critical lessons. He learned that sin could cause somatic suffering. He learned that God forgives sin, even the most heinous. He was renewed in the knowledge that there’s no substitute for prayer and the forgiveness of God.

Knowledge of the past serves many useful functions, but is it important to understand how our various past influences have determined our present mental health status? Larry Crabb has his doubts. He writes, “The further we move away from things and toward people, the less useful explanations become.”[5] Crabb sees healing taking place in the context of Christian relationships and eschews the therapeutic importance of explanations and cathartic events. Crabb asserts, “the soul can be studied but never explained; nourished but not possessed; influenced by many forces outside of itself, but never fully predicted.”[6]

Crabb cautions, “The demand to know what’s causing our difficulties may actually be preventing us from finding a pathway through them to joy.”[7] This has been my experience. The focus upon psychopathology and its preoccupation with finding explanations runs several risks. Firstly, it invites the sufferer to adopt the “disease mentality.” This can be quite degrading. We begin to see that almost everything we think and feel is a product of the disease and our circuitous attempts to escape it. Seeking the good or the noble is reduced to a neurotic attempt to feel good about ourselves. We do good to others because we want them to like us. We speak the truth because we want respect. There is no longer anything noble, honorable, or even brave. It all about the pathology, and we are that pathology.

Secondly, this focus upon causation and pathology tends to isolate. My past and pathology are distinctively my own. It’s an unwanted disease and a source of shame. I’m not only going to want to distance myself from it but also from others who I perceive to share it. If it’s something that I can’t accept about myself, then I will not accept its presence in others. In contrast with this perspective is the focus upon our common human nature, something with which we all struggle. For instance, we all seek recognition, worth, and significance. We can laugh and cry about it together, compare notes and share what we’ve learned. I know what you’re thinking and you know what I’m thinking. I don’t have to feel so ashamed about my struggles because they’re not so different from yours. I think that this is one of the strengths of the twelve step programs. They emphasize the fact that we’re all together. All are powerless; all need a Higher Power; all have to follow the same program of recovery despite the personal differences.

Thirdly, as Crabb pointed out, seeking explanations may keep us from real solutions, namely looking towards the Source of all of our hope and help. In conjunction with this, self-focus can cause depression to snowball downward. We look at our thoughts and feelings and obsess, “Why am I feeling this way? Why can’t I climb out of this? What’s the matter with me that I’m so helpless?” As we begin to feel even worse through entertaining these thoughts, our thoughts become correspondingly worse, then the feelings worsen, etc. If all we have is our diseased selves to trust in for recovery, what hope can we possibly have? We’ve failed ourselves for years. Why suddenly should we think that things will now be otherwise?

Fourthly, among those who claim to have found relief in finding out why they are a certain way, there remain critical questions. Did they come to the right explanation? Would any explanation have sufficed? One of my students experienced relief in merely being told that she was depressed. She needed an explanation, any explanation. Although a label can stigmatize, a label can also put to rest the obsessive question, “What’s happening to me?” A label can also serve to place the blame elsewhere, perhaps erroneously.

Lastly, there’s no logical connection between understanding developmental influences and relief from its effects. Even if I come to understand why Bill shot me in the back, it’s not going to restore my spinal cord. Yes, many people claim to have been helped through this type of therapy. But what exactly is it that has helped them? Many therapists regard the client relationship as the most critical part of therapy. Through the relationship, the client can unburden himself and experience affirmation in their most hurting parts. However, this isn’t always a plus. Often we profit more from confrontation and not affirmation. One-on-one psychotherapy has been often found counterproductive in sexual abuse and domestic violence cases. As a supervisor for a unit of Probation Officers who supervised these specific cases, I saw this firsthand. The manipulative perpetrators had been consistently able to co-opt the therapist into accepting his own point of view at the expense of the unseen victim. This has a tendency of reinforcing the criminal behavior. The courts also became aware of this sad reality and subsequently required that the criminals attend group programs, which are confrontational and have a strong educational component.

Many attribute psychotherapeutic success to growth in self-esteem rather than to understanding developmental factors. Psychotherapy has become so eclectic, that, more often than not, some form of self-esteem promotion has become a part of insight therapy. Although this remedy is pandered to a variety of sufferers including the depressed, prisoners, underachiever students, and the obese. However, experimental findings haven’t been reassuring. Failure hasn’t been found to be directly associated with low self-esteem. Erica Goode writes, “’D’ students think as highly of themselves as valedictorians, and serial rapists are no more likely to ooze with insecurities than doctors or bank managers.”[8] Furthermore, there’s no reason to believe that by raising self-esteem societies ills will be mitigated or that psychological healing will result. Goode adds, “High self-esteem, studies show, offers no immunity against bad behavior.” Citing research by Bushman and Baumeister, she writes, “Some people with high self-esteem are actually more likely to lash out aggressively when criticized than those with low self esteem.”

Citing an extensive review of studies, she writes that Nicholas Emler “found no clear link between low self-esteem and delinquency, violence against others, teenage smoking, drug use, or racism…High self-esteem, on the other hand, was positively correlated with racist attitudes, drunken driving and other risky behaviors.”

In many cases, the benefit that is seen to accrue to a positive self-esteem is only temporary. Quoting Dr. Jennifer Crocker she writes, “The pursuit of self-esteem has short term benefits but long term costs…ultimately diverting people from fulfilling their fundamental human needs for competence, relatedness and autonomy and leading to poor self-regulation and mental and physical health.” Crocker contrasts students who sought their self-worth in external performance with those “who judged themselves by more internal measures like virtue or religious faith who seemed to fair better. They were less likely to show anger and aggression and more restrained in their use of alcohol and drugs.” This suggests that we look with caution upon therapeutic successes based upon improvement in self-esteem. Bitter fruits might be the eventual harvest.

The Bible often points us to the broader perspective, warning that a limited picture may prove very misleading. Jesus talks about someone who builds a respectable house, but it’s one built upon the sand of self-righteousness. It’s an enviable house until a storm comes.[9] He also makes reference to someone freed from demonic influence without also being reconciled to the Divine. Although his status seems much improved, it’s only temporary. His house now swept clean, he has become doubly vulnerable to a much worse demonic assault.[10] This might parallel the fate of those who find temporary benefit through self-inflation. Those who exalt themselves shall be humbled.

Quoting an article published by the American Psychological Association in “Psychology Review,” which analyzed 150 studies, Bernard Bauer writes, “The societal pursuit of high self-esteem for everyone may literally end up doing considerable harm.” He elaborates, “They found aggressive people have unusually high self-esteem—defined as ‘a favorable global evaluation of oneself’—especially compared to achievements…The study found that aggressive, violent and hostile people—such as neo-Nazis, wife-beaters and members of the Klu Klux Klan—‘consistently express favorable views of themselves.’”[11]

This leads us to one last question about the validity of client “self-reports” of therapeutic progress. Does secular counseling, in its heavy reliance upon self-esteem promotion, produce overall benefit to society in general? Does it enable one to lead a more violent or selfish life? What is the net result for a society when a high percentage of its members undergo this form of therapy? Although it’s difficult to weigh its overall impact, the question is certainly relevant.

A CHRISTIAN PERSPECTIVE

Christianity has always placed more emphasis upon identifying our own personal guilt than in pointing the guilty finger. The same applies to the question of therapy and understanding our past. The best therapy is a penitent spirit whether it’s repentant about past decisions or present behaviors. It’s the broken and contrite heart that elicits the mercy of God.[12]

Today, we have such a different orientation towards our past. We try to understand ourselves through the lens of external developmental influences. Reading Augustine’s Confessions helped me become aware of a radically different perspective. Augustine confessed sins we’d regard as miniscule, and he took complete responsibility for them, never once attributing his proclivity or behavior to anyone else. He could easily have done otherwise. He had an abuser as a father. Augustine labored for almost a chapter trying to come to terms with the full extent of his guilt for needlessly stealing pears only to discard them.

Likewise, David, in his zeal to make a full confession of sin stated hyperbolically that he “was conceived in sin.”[13] Rather than pushing his sin off upon his parents, he acknowledged that he was a sinner from his conception.

In the spirit of Augustine, I’d like to argue that we’re guiltier than we have supposed, and by acknowledging this guilt, we can realize a greater measure of grace. Habits exert a powerful impact upon our lives. I’ve struggled for years trying to change my nail-biting habit whose foundation had been laid in the obscure recesses of the past. Many of us have waged war against nicotine and caffeine addiction. Some habits are worse than others. They commandeer more of our lives, circumscribing our freedom of thought and of movement. Just ask a heroin addict who has resorted to a methadone maintenance program. Some addictions are life controlling. We are unaware of many of our addictions and habits. They form the underlying grid for our thinking and feeling that’s largely invisible to us. But we know that this grid exists. It must! We recognize that we respond to certain circumstances in a habitual, knee-jerk manner.

Where do the habits come from? They aren’t merely instilled from the outside, but often it’s our early choices that are pivotal as is the case with any habit formation. As heroin is a choice producing a life-controlling addiction, is it likely that our life-controlling habits are also the result of our early choices? When I was 12 years old, I transferred to the Junior High School some distance from my home and outside of my somewhat Jewish neighborhood. There I began to encounter a lot of scorn and hatred by virtue of my Jewish identity. It was easy for my assailants to determine who was Jewish. In my pre-Bar Mitzvah years, our school would make announcements over the loud speaker system for the Jewish students to line up in preparation for the bus that would take us to Hebrew school twice weekly. I dreaded these times. They would always be accompanied by laughter and derision. The other Jewish students never said anything. They never seemed to care. I felt that I alone was pierced by humiliation.

I determined that I’d have my revenge. I would slay them in the privacy of my heart. They were less than garbage to me. I fancied that they were all Christians. I was sure that they all had a Christmas tree and that of course made them Christians. If you were born to Jewish parents, you were Jewish. If you were born to parents who had a Christmas tree, you were Christian. It was that easy.

Later, I realized other things about these hated “Christians.” I was sure that they all hated Jews. I had seen Gentile youth, whom I had trusted, turn against me when the name-calling began. That was proof-positive that they all hated Jews. Even the teachers hated Jews. They never seemed to intervene when Jews were being bullied.

I began to also realize that all the Gentiles had a different odor. Of course, it was a putrid odor. It became difficult for me to be around them in close quarters. But this didn’t represent any sacrifice for me. I had since learned to mistrust anyone who wasn’t Jewish and kept my distance. Elevators were particularly difficult. I had a good friend, Jewish of course, who had joined a basketball league, something that Jews didn’t do. Except for him, it was entirely Gentile, and they played at a YMCA. He invited me to one of his games. I didn’t want to go, but he was a good friend. I because nauseated by the smell of mildew that issued up from the lockers below, but I knew that this was the smell of ‘Christians’. It wasn’t until my college years at Berkeley in the mid-sixties that I began to reassess some of my assumptions. I’m sure my Gentile girlfriend had a big impact.

My early and sinful commitment to hate exercised a strong influence upon my subsequent development and response formation, but it wasn’t a decision made in a vacuum. There had been prior, sinful decisions that had inclined me in this direction. When I was seven years old, I would recite my prayers including the Lord’s Prayer and the 23^rd Psalm every evening, with hands reverently clasped together, upon getting into bed. This was nothing I had learned within my own family. In those years, prayers were still being offered in the public schools. This included the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer and the 23^rd Psalm. I didn’t know that Jews didn’t do this type of thing.

However, I remember that several of my youthful prayers were answered. I had heard the adults talking in hushed tones that Uncle Jack was going to die within days. I set about praying for him and he lived for another 15 years. Nevertheless, at the mature year of eight, I came to realize that I was Jewish and that what I was doing was improper. I quickly ceased performing my nocturnal ritual. Consequently, I stopped praying entirely, not just in the Christian mode. I had placed ethnic identification above truth, a choice that would continue to exercise profound effects over my unhappy life.

I’m aware that to many of my readers, my interpretation of these stories is offensive. I’m taking responsibility for my developmental choices and the resulting negative consequences. Many will feel that the blame should be placed upon external factors, especially upon anti-Semitism. I don’t deny this. Anti-Semitism also is to blame. However, my primary focus before God is what I’ve done wrong. This is the primary place where I can make an impact, especially in terms of my relationship with God.

Hate is primarily a sin against God, the Source of all moral truth. When I hate, I’m telling God, “My way is better than yours. I have no obligation to follow Your ways.” I am duty bound to confess this sin to God who wants us to be scrupulously honest with ourselves.[14]

Although anti-Semites are blameworthy, I can’t blame them for my sin. I could have responded differently. Perhaps this would have been difficult for me, but the choice was still mine, a choice that proved to have profound consequences. I’ve made other sinful choices. At an early age, I determined that I was going to be the best at anything that I did. This too had negatives consequences. It’s one thing to try to be as good as one can be; it’s another thing to decide to be better than anyone else, lustily demanding within myself to have everything that others had. Such a choice proved a prescription for misery. It was impossible to be the best at everything. Any setback was an occasion for discontent, bitterness and envy. I would never concede that others deserved the acclaim that they had received. The wheels I had set in motion, I couldn’t stop nor even see.

I can blame my pursuit for self-aggrandizement upon childhood deprivations, but I won’t. I’ve consistently found that confession of sin, even in the face of victimization, is healing. It brings me into intimate contact with Christ. Perhaps, this is because He too forgave His persecutors.

One can argue that I lacked the maturity to make any other choice than the one I had made. However, the case would be difficult to make. As an eight year old, I chose ethnic identification over a relationship with God. I don’t remember why I had made such a choice, but I certainly can’t claim complete ignorance. I had seen God answer the hopeful prayers of a seven year old. I thanked Him for it and felt comfort in the fact that I could turn to Him.

Perhaps the heroin addict now can’t stop on his own. Nevertheless, even if this is the case, he is clearly culpable for picking up the drug in the first place. Had I not rejected God as an eight year old, I would have had a Counselor to advise me otherwise. I reaped the consequences of my early choice.

We can regard ourselves as a product of our past or as a major player. I’m convinced that the “choice” perspective is a significant one for growth. More is to be gained by acknowledging our faults than by placing the blame upon someone or something else. Friends have accused me of engaging in self-punishment. Instead, my practice is one of self-interest. I just know how important it is to have a broken and tender conscience before the Lord. This is the avenue to God’s mercy and peace, to not minimize our sin but to confess it in all its ugliness.

“People who cover over their sins will not prosper. But if they confess and forsake them, they will receive mercy. Blessed are those who have a tender conscience, but the stubborn are headed for serious trouble.”[15]

Not only must we see ourselves as a major player, it’s important to see our struggles globally. We’re trained to see mental conflict and failure as negatives, things to be hidden at all costs. From the micro- perspective they are negatives! However, from a Biblical perspective, they can also serve as opportunities. Peter taught that Christians would have to experience the sufferings Christ did.[16] Paul talked about the privilege of participating in the same sufferings as Christ. Jesus used the example of a prostitute to teach an important spiritual lesson. Knowing that she had been forgiven, she reciprocated Jesus’ love by washing His feet with her tears. Through this, Jesus taught his rich and powerful, yet appalled hosts that those who are forgiven much will also love much.[17] Knowledge of her sin became her doorway into blessedness.

Christianity doesn’t deny the importance of developmental causation. The Bible contains a lot of wisdom regarding raising children and the importance of early training. However, Christianity understands these factors as only part of our life narrative. The prostitute had most likely emerged from a difficult childhood. Consequently, despite its social unacceptability, she entered a life-sucking profession that would eventually break her and deprive her of any self-respect. However, in this broken and humbled state, she thrust herself down upon the mercy of God to discover forgiveness and a love that would transform her.

It seems that Martin Luther had come from a family where he couldn’t please his demanding parents and also felt that he could never be righteous enough to please God. There was no lack of effort. He wrote that on several occasions he had almost died because he pursued his spiritual disciplines so rigorously. Failing to find relief from his guilt and fear, he resorted to confession daily for hours. However, when he came to understand grace, he embraced it more fervently than anyone else. From the context of his personal darkness, God’s grace shined all the more brilliantly. This bright light not only illuminated his own life, but it sparked the most profound “back to the Bible” movement in history.

If we only see Luther’s psychopathology in its narrow context, our understanding of growth will not only be limited but also greatly distorted. The micro-narrative is important but only in as far as it serves the macro-narrative. Winston Churchill was one of the most important figures of the 20^th century. Lacking the intimate love of both mother and father, Churchill compensated through dreams of great attainment. He determined that he was going to be a Member of Parliament and eventually Prime Minister. It was his “pathology” that constituted the greatest single factor for the defeat of Nazism.

From this lofty perspective, we should recognize that our pathologies are only of secondary importance, if that. This is because there is a God who doesn’t place importance upon the narrow estimation of humankind, nor is He confined by our limited perspectives.

“All the inhabitants of the earth are reputed as nothing; He does according to His will in the army of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth. No one can restrain His hand or say to Him, ‘What have You done?’"[18]

In addition to this, there is nothing that prevents Him from taking a negative and using it to accomplish grand purposes. Indeed, He delights in taking hopeless prostitutes and clothing them in beauty.

EXERCISE

Have you noticed how the way you understand and conceptualize life and its struggles affects the types of solutions to which you gravitate?

What are the implications of having one paradigm as opposed to another? Which have you found most productive?

Have you become more aware of your habits or patterns of thinking that govern much of your life? What are they and how have you dealt with them? Have you found healing through repentance? How?