Introduction
 |
 VERYONE, regardless of heritage, education, or vocation,
must come to terms with his or her own human
imperfections and physical mortality.
To do this, one
must bring one’s limitations into consciousness. For some persons this
can be done through the scientific approach of psychology and its clinical
application in
psychotherapy.
For other persons, this can be done through prayer and religious
devotions.
And yet
many psychotherapy clients find it a great relief to be able to incorporate
religious practices into their psychological treatment. In fact, one only
has to read the mystical writing of Saint John of the Cross, such as the
The Ascent of Mount
Carmel,[1] to understand all of the spiritual and physical benefits
that result from emptying oneself in devout humility before
God.
Unfortunately,
many psychological schools of thought are atheistic or naively misunderstand
or misinterpret spiritual experiences. And many psychotherapies can become
a “religion” unto themselves.
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Sigmund Freud,
for example, in his philosophy of
psychoanalysis,
tried to reduce all
 religious impulses to biology and sexuality. If you
think that sounds strange, just walk into any American shopping mall and
you will see, seductively displayed on every shelf, the results of our
culture’s wholesale purchase of Freudian biological-sexual atheism.
And then realize that the money we use to pay for all this
seduction has “In God We Trust” written
all over it. So, we might wonder, who is fooling whom?
Freud, after
all, died of cancer—oral cancer (in the photo above, note his ever-present
cigar)—and not just that, but he died through
a suicide assisted by his physician Schur. What
does this show us except the absolute spiritual emptiness of Freud’s
own philosophy? And it shows precisely how a person can
unconsciously
“fill” the void of the empty
spirit
with a cancerous, consuming illness.
In contrast,
back in 1219, during the Fifth Crusade, Saint Francis of Assisi crossed the
battle lines at Damietta in an attempt to convert Malik al-Kamil,
the
Ayubid Sultan of Egypt, to Christianity. Francis hoped that the Sultan’s
conversion would put an end to the fighting, but the Sultan did not convert,
and the fighting did not stop. Nor, surprisingly, did the Sultan kill Francis
on the spot. Instead, he was so impressed with Francis’ genuine spirituality
 and
lack of interest in materialism that he spared his life and sent him
home to preach to his own people, that he might convert
them.
In the end, Francis
brought about a true conversion in the hearts of only a few. After all, we
might put statues of Saint Francis in our gardens, but how many of us are
willing to follow his example by living chaste lives, trusting completely
in God, free from argumentativeness and hostility, seeking always the good
of others? Well, not many—so anger and violence remain rampant in all
cultures to this day. But think about this a bit. If we truly endorsed the
spiritual values that inspired individuals such as Francis of Assisi, then
maybe there would be some genuine peace in this world. |
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Working
therapeutically to provide healing for religious persons therefore requires
a respect for
spiritual
aspirations as well as an astute psychological insight that will neither
minimize psychological problems nor withdraw from them in
fear. |
Healing
|
What is healing?
Healing may refer
to regaining physical health, and there are many ways to go about it, ranging
from traditional Western scientific medicine to alternative herbal and holistic
methods. But being physically healthy is one thing and having peace of mind
is another thing entirely. I’ve seen many persons, for example, who
are careful to practice meditation or yoga on a daily basis and who still
have insecure lives filled with troubled, unstable relationships.
Why? Well, such
persons use their healing practices as a sort of mask, to say to the world,
“See? I live a spiritual life!” Yet all the while
bitterness and animosity fester in their
hearts.
Peace of
mind—or mental health—doesn’t come from physical practices.
Nor can you “buy” it. You can pay a shaman to adjust your energy
fields, you can wear crystals, and you can fill your house with all the
aromatherapy scents in the world, but it won’t heal you of the inner
anger
and
loneliness
that torment you. These
unconscious
wounds can be healed only by facing up to their origins and making peace
with them.
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This “making
peace,” mind you, is not an easy process. It’s a painful
process—so painful, in fact, that most persons will do just about anything
to avoid it. And that’s why, in order to be truly healed, you have to
face your inner
vulnerability
without hiding behind defenses such as alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, food,
gambling, sex, sports, television—and on and
on. . . . |
|
This painful
process, if you stick with it courageously and faithfully, leads to the form
of healing you can get from
psychotherapy. |
The
Dark
Night
|
All too often I have heard the “Dark Night”
mistakenly described as a sort of terrifying and lonely doubt about the very
existence of God. But the Dark Night really has nothing to do with doubt
or despair. The concept of a Dark Night derives from a short poem written
by the great mystic Saint John of the Cross, when he was confined in a tiny,
dark cell in prison for about nine months. In later years, he elaborated
on the meaning of his poem in his mystical treatise called the Dark Night
of the Soul.
 Saint John spoke of the Dark
Night as an experience of spiritual purgation in which all physical and
psychological satisfactions are stripped away to leave the soul in the presence
of nothing but the physically invisible (and therefore, to human experience,
dark) and silent workings of divine grace. As unnerving as it is,
it still is a profound experience of spiritual healing, not a questioning
of—or loss of—faith.
Now, in so far
as we may focus just on its ultimate psychological, rather than religious,
effects, the Dark Night has some remarkable parallels to
psychotherapy.
It often happens
that persons entering into psychotherapy truly want to engage in the process
of self-exploration, but they also attempt to avoid certain embarrassing
aspects of their private, inner lives. They want the psychotherapist to like
them, not be disgusted by the ugliness lurking in the shadows of their
personalities. And, above all, they will do almost anything to hide their
raw feelings of
anger
and betrayal resulting from past emotional wounds. “I still feel as
if I am being selfish or should be ashamed for having such intense negative
feelings towards people who don’t know how to love me. Doesn’t
that solidify the fact that I am not worthy of true love?” they
ask.
And the answer,
in full irony, is that unless they recognize and verbalize those “intense
negative feelings” (that is, feelings of victimization, hatred, and
anger) they will never get to the place of experiencing
true
love.
Just as the religious
experience of the Dark Night strips away all human illusion and pretension,
so psychotherapy must strip away everything (especially our
psychological defensiveness) that hides the deepest
ugliness in our hearts. For only by recognizing the “intense negative
feelings” in his or her own heart can the individual then recognize
the
narcissistic
selfishness that stains all of humanity. And in the community of sorrowful
understanding will grow the seed of compassion and true love.
|
Interestingly
enough, this theme of descending into inner darkness has shown up in myth
and art through the ages. Whether in the myths of the hero’s journey
into the underworld described psychologically by Jung and his followers,
or in Dante’s poetic journey through hell as the route to heaven in
his Divine Comedy, or in Tolkien’s story of the journey through
the mines of Moria in his Lord of the Rings, the journey begins with
an obstruction too difficult to climb over, encounters the necessity to surrender
control and certainty in the passage through an
abhorrent darkness, and culminates in a final triumph over evil. |
|
And so, if
psychotherapy is to achieve any ultimate success, it must lead you into your
own psychological “dark night.” And then, if you so will, you can
pass into the real Dark Night of spiritual healing. |
Spiritual
Healing
and
True
Love
|
Thus there is a deeper level of healing, a spiritual level.
In fact, this aspect of healing points directly to the fact that true
spirituality must have a psychological component. Unlike pagan worship, such as
that offered by the ancient Greeks and Romans merely to appease the vanity of
the gods—gods who had no interest at all in the moral behavior of
humanity—genuine spirituality calls a person into a deep psychological
change.
This change comes
from opening your heart to love.
This love, though,
is not what we ordinarily think of as
“love.”
Love does not come from another person—it’s important to learn
that right away. Love is not about romantic sentiments. Love is not about
sensuality and sexual pleasure. Mystics have known that for ages. True love
is a matter of seeking God more than anything else, more even than your own
life.
And to live in
true love means to do God’s will.
So what is
God’s will? Well, there are a lot of New Age “therapists”
out there who will tell you that it’s all about connecting with
“divine energy” so you can accomplish anything you desire. But
God’s will is a matter of love, and for ages the mystics have been telling
us that loving is about giving, not getting. To do God’s will, therefore,
is to give of yourself through patience, forbearance, mercy, compassion,
and understanding; it is not a matter of receiving personal
satisfaction from the world. In fact, true love means to continue giving even
if you receive nothing but rejection and hatred in return. True love means to
refuse to hate—that is, to wish harm
to come upon—anyone, even those who hate you.
|
To do God’s
will essentially means to turn completely away from
sin—that is, our functional narcissism. It
means to die to yourself, as Saint John of the Cross says—otherwise,
you will be serving nothing but your own narcissistic desires. In psychological
terms, this dying to the self necessitates several
elements:
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Loving God more than
anything, or anyone, in this world |
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Treating others with
mercy and
forgiveness |
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Putting aside all
aggression and competitive behavior |
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Renouncing your pride
in order to live in spiritual humility (see
below) |
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Conducting all of
your interpersonal relationships with psychological
honesty |
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Living in
sexual purity by not making others into mere objects
for your personal pleasure
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If you
truly seek healing, then, and if you have the courage, accept the active
and passive purgation of the senses in The Dark
Night [2] and turn from everything in your mind and heart that
misses the point about true love.
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Now, you might
ask, “Can this be done without becoming a hermit? Can one continue to
conduct business, or other worldly activities without these narcissistic
desires?” Well, yes it can be done. In short, it means that you do
everything you can to develop your talents as fully as possible, but that
you put those talents to use in service to others, not for the sake of your
own personal pleasure, wealth, status, honor, or prestige. |
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This may sound
a bit ascetic, and it is. But it is not a matter of masochism or self-punishment.
And there is no room in it for
hatred.
Asceticism actually comes from opening your eyes to see the
fraud
of the world around you. Asceticism is grounded in pure love for the very
truth that human vanity obscures and defiles. It simply means that you willingly
surrender all your worldly defenses against your essential
vulnerability in order to face that vulnerability with no protection other
than true love. |
Healing
and
Religion
|
We need psychological healing because we constantly
encounter emotional wounds from the world around us. Children cope with
these wounds by using psychological defenses. These
defenses work for children, but they cause many problems in adulthood. Thus,
as adults we need healing that can transcend our psychological
limitations.
And here’s the
problem. All of the wounds inflicted by the world derive from evil, and evil
cannot be overcome with mere psychology. Evil is the hatred of God, and so
only love for God can overcome evil. Without God we are helpless against evil.
Religion, though, transcends spirituality because religion nurtures love for
God.
Spirituality
can be defined psychologically as an inner belief system that provides a person
with a sense of confidence and emotional comfort that transcends the conscious
“self.” Spirituality can be valuable as a first step leading us away from
psychological self-centeredness. But it’s only a first step. And it’s often a
misstep leading us right into its own narcissistic illusions, however esoteric
they may appear, because, for many persons, spirituality does not ascend beyond
illusions into religion. In contrast, religion (deriving from the Latin
religare, to bind back) refers to the beliefs and practices with which we
worship God who created us. Therefore, religion essentially denotes a lifestyle
that draws us away from our self-centered illusions and binds us back to God in
love and gratitude.
Note carefully, though,
that if religion is not genuine—that is, if it is not a lifestyle that provides
spiritual confidence and comfort—it will be illogical, a mere intellectual
superstition, and it will be no help in our emotional healing. |
Genuine
Religion
and
False
Religion
|
Genuine religion—that is, faithful
service to God through devout worship—requires setting aside the
pride we take in the psychological
“self,” overcoming the defenses we use
to protect our pride, and surrendering to a profound absorption in divine
love that calls us to treat others with kindness, patience, and
forgiveness. It’s not an easy process, and
it doesn’t work by magic—that is, simply by claiming to believe
in something.
Unfortunately,
there are many persons who don’t want to do the hard work of self-denial.
So, sad to say, they take up superficial religious sentiments as an
unconscious way to hide their own fears
of abandonment and loneliness. Terrified of their
own psychological darkness, they pervert religion into a desperate attempt to
“feel good” about themselves—to validate their pride and their
perversions, not to cleanse their hearts and souls
of all that is unholy.
They might act
like pious members of their communities, but deep inside some
part of them holds a dark resentment that the world
has not given them the recognition
that they secretly crave. And one way or another—through disobedience,
through terrorism, or through sexual
scandal—their façade crumbles. They talked
the talk all right, but they didn’t know the first thing about true love.
In fact, they feared love all along and were blind
to their own blindness.
And so they were
blind to genuine religion. |
Depression
vs.
Spiritual
Purgation
|
All of us, in the process of growing from children to adults,
require encouragement, reassurance, appreciation, and approval from others.
Classic psychodynamic theory calls these things
narcissistic
supplies. Yet most of us, as we become adults,
develop an inner sense of confidence and self-esteem which does not depend
on constant
external
reinforcement.
There will be
times, however, when it seems that these narcissistic supplies have been
lost—whether through loss of love, or loss of security, or loss of self-esteem
itself—and we will tend to get angry. Normally, the
anger
is directed toward the person responsible for the loss we feel. But it often
happens that this anger also becomes turned against the self. Then that
self-directed anger becomes self-blame—and guilt.
So why does anger
get turned toward the self? It might happen out of a perception that you
could have done something to protect yourself from being so vulnerable to
loss, and, having failed to do it, you feel deserving of
condemnation.
It could be that someone from your past treated you like an object for his
or her own pleasure and you have come to believe that you are nothing but garbage.
It could be that the person responsible for the hurt in the first place was
someone loved, and it might feel too psychologically risky to be angry
at such a person. After all, the person might withdraw “love”
in retaliation. Or it might happen that the hurt was caused by some trauma
or disaster, and, though you might blame God, if you’re at all religious
you will feel bad for being angry at God, and so you will blame yourself while
secretly hating God.
So there you
are, trapped in self-hatred, a lonely victim, stuck in “anger turned
inwards,” right in the middle of
depression.
Now, as
described by Saint John of the Cross, spiritual purgation can afflict
souls with “abandonment, supreme poverty, dryness, cold, and sometimes
heat. They find relief in nothing, nor does any thought console them. . .
.” [3]
Although this sounds quite a bit like depression,
there is a big difference.
As Saint
John of the Cross points out, the oppressive afflictions experienced in purgation
are caused by the very flame of God which imparts His love. Purgation is,
therefore, an act of God’s love, and even though our narcissistic supplies
may be stripped from us as a spiritual process, the purpose of it all is
to bring the soul’s infirmities to light: “they are set before
its eyes to be felt and
healed.” [4]
In depression
there is nothing but darkness, yet it is not seen as darkness or
recognized as darkness. Blind to divine reality, this darkness seems
to be the only reality. “For it is impossible to perceive one’s
darknesses without the divine light focusing on
them.” [5]
In contrast to
depression, in our willingly accepting our spiritual purgation and confronting
our own darknesses—however oppressing the process may feel—we experience
love, not anger. Nor does spiritual purgation cause us to feel self-hatred,
because the
sorrow
we feel for our
sins
and inadequacies has nothing to do with blame and, rather than being an obstacle
to our progress, is the first step on the path to divine love.
And it is also
a step to real prayer and a step away from common, popular
“prayer” which in effect says to God, “I didn’t study
for this test, so please help me pass it anyway.” Real prayer depends
on your being able to recognize the depths of your own helplessness and
vulnerability and to embrace divine grace honestly and openly through a life
of humble obedience and genuine
forgiveness.
In the end,
it’s the only path away from being a “victim.” |
Being
A
“Victim”
|
Whenever we are hurt, for whatever reason, some part of
us—usually a child-like part—cries out, “Stop, or I’ll
die!” Then, through the tears, a desire for some form of recognition
and compensation takes shape. A piece of food, a piece of candy, a piece
of money—whatever it might be—brings the teary, blurred world back
into focus. Death fades away and life resumes.
That’s the
way it works for children.
But that
piece of something does not heal the threat of death and disintegration.
It only hides it.
In fact, all
the “pieces of the world” that we use as identifications to construct
our own
identities
are, in the end, nothing but illusions. That’s why
PTSD
is nothing but the shocking and painful awareness of what we already know
but prefer to hide. The trauma that has brought us just inches from death
shows us with shocking clarity that all our defenses against
death are just empty
illusions.
 Therefore, even as adults,
there will always be a child-like
part
of us who seeks some recognition of our pain and some compensation—some
piece of the world, or, in Shakespeare’s terms, a pound of
flesh [6]—for any hurt we suffer.
If we get
caught in feelings of victimization, then, we will always be trying to tell
others what to do. This can happen openly through argumentativeness,
protest, or
aggression, and it can happen in subtle, unconscious
ways, such as sarcasm, cynicism, and passive
aggressiveness. And when others don’t do what we want them to do,
then we feel even more victimized. It all becomes a vicious
circle.
So, as long as
we desire any piece of the world—whether it be money,
“love,”
prestige or anything else—in exchange for our hurt, we will remain hurt
and angry victims.
Unfortunately,
some souls are so caught in feelings of victimization that they will send
themselves right to hell in a futile attempt to “show” the world
how mean and unfairly—so they believe—they have been treated. In
psychological language, this is called
masochism.
Masochism
Truly, the concept
of masochism is not a pleasant issue to examine. For the most part, it’s hidden
in cultural shadow, though in the darkest parts of our culture it’s glorified
as a defiant lifestyle. Only in psychotherapy that is not stifled by political
correctness is it ever dealt with in a spiritually honest and open manner.
If you look back
on your life honestly, you will likely see how often you have gotten involved
with bad situations. This doesn’t mean that you want to be
mistreated; it just indicates that people most often choose what is known
over what is unknown. If you have grown up knowing abuse and humiliation,
even though abuse and humiliation are not pleasant they are known
and predictable, and in that sense they’re comfortable. And
that’s masochism in a nutshell: preferring (desiring) humiliation
unconsciously because it’s more “comfortable” than facing
the unknown with true personal responsibility.
This brings us
to the technical psychological distinction between desire (unconscious)
and want (conscious). As odd as it sounds, you can very well desire
something you don’t even want. And the fact is that unless you resolve
this aspect of your unconscious, you will continue to do unpleasant things.
The unconscious urge for self-punishment and humiliation will continue to
lead you into bad situations, even if consciously you don’t want them
at all.
And what is the
deepest motivation for all this unconsciously self-inflicted pain? It’s
the veiled hope that you can make yourself feel loved. That’s
right—it’s the hope that others, in seeing how much you are willing
to suffer abuse, will somehow be made to acknowledge you. Then, in seeing
yourself reflected in their loving appreciation, you will have the satisfaction
of feeling loved. At least, that’s the hope. But it rarely happens that
way. The more you try to make yourself loved, the more others despise you.
|
This hope
of feeling loved reveals the difference between
humility
and
masochism.
To live in humility is to live always in total confidence of God’s
love, protection, and guidance and therefore to have no concern for yourself
when others insult you—or praise you. Secure in God’s love, you
don’t have to base your identity on whether or not others acknowledge
you. In masochism, on the other hand, you invite others to insult
you because, as a psychological defense against the pain of deep emotional
wounds, you take unconscious pleasure in being demeaned in the secret hope
that you will somehow, someday, earn someone’s admiration for your
willingness to endure painful
abuse. |
|
So as long as
you continue to say, “Stop, or I’ll die!” you will remain
trapped in victimization. So long as you continue to hoard pieces of the
world as a way to protect yourself from the fear of your own brokenness,
you will remain broken and victimized. Only by accepting the spiritual and
psychological death of your worldly identity can
you step outside the
victim role.
Only when you stop desiring to get anything from the world, and only
when you start
giving [7]
to the world what you don’t really “have”—pure, divine
love—will you stop feeling victimized. Only by breaking bread and giving
it away can you multiply it.
|
“Whether
a soul is wounded by other wounds of miseries and sins or whether it is healthy,
this cautery of love immediately effects a wound of love in the one it touches,
and those wounds deriving from other causes become wounds of
love.” [8]
[emphasis added] |
|
In other words,
when the flame of divine love touches us, its purgation is a sort of wounding
that purifies everything in the soul—and even old wounds of victimization,
along with their desire for revenge and compensation, are transformed into
the “wound” of pure love itself. Such is the mystical peace of
healing through love. And that, in the end, is God’s will. |
Summary
|
So you begin the process of spiritual healing by listening
to your
unconscious.
Examine your
dreams.
Explore your pain and
anger.
Face up to the terror of your inner
loneliness.
Find strength in your
weakness.
Overcome your fear
of losing your identity by giving it up willingly. With devotion and discipline,
you will discover the ability to give up your
pride,
forgive
those who have hurt you, and give of yourself in pure love. And then you
will be on the path of life and healing.
|
If, then, I am
no longer
seen or found on the common,
you will say that I am lost;
that, stricken by love,
I lost myself, and was found.
|
—Saint John
of the Cross,
The Spiritual Canticle,
The Poem, Stanzas 28-29 |
|
The
Book
|
 Psychology from the
Heart
The Spiritual Depth of Clinical Psychology
A collection of
texts from the writings of
Raymond Lloyd Richmond, Ph.D.
More
information |
Common
Issues
Burnout
|
Overstretching one’s material
resources can result in a loss of faith or an uncertainty about one’s
spiritual commitment or direction. |
Health
Issues |
Psychological assistance may be needed
with smoking cessation, pain
management, and other health problems. |
Interpersonal
Conflicts |
Unresolved family-of-origin difficulties
can disrupt personal relationships and generate conflict within
communities. |
Mental
Health |
Prayer
may have to be supplemented with psychological intervention in order to resolve
mental health problems such as mood disorders and anxiety
disorders. |
Religious
Values |
It may be helpful to examine one’s
sexual desires and needs for “love”
in the context of making a commitment to religious values. Furthermore, the
failure to understand true love can lead to sexual scandal or
pedophilia (child sexual abuse). |
Retirement |
A feeling of confusion and a resistance
to losing a life-long identity can occur because
of a forced retirement from full time work. |
Terrorism |
Well, I mean
psychological “terrorism”. That
is, many individuals may vocally advocate radical changes in morality and
law—all in an unconscious attempt to heal their
own unresolved psychological wounds. |
Trauma |
Vulnerability and bitterness resulting
from abuse by trusted others may feel like a betrayal by God. Multiple
traumas
through
repetition
may lead to victim
anger, self-hatred,
depression, and a secret
anger
at God. |
Work
Stress |
Administrative responsibilities can
become overwhelming, and, if chronic, can result in Burnout. But
“stress”
is nothing more than the effect of clinging to a personal
identity, not living in true
humility, and failing to trust completely in
God. |
|
Gratitude
|
Has this web page been helpful? Then please help support this
website in gratitude, as a “down-payment” on the success of your
hopes and dreams!
|
Notes:
1.
St. John of the Cross, “The Ascent of Mount Carmel.” In
The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez
(Washington, DC: ICS Publications, 1991).
2. St. John of the
Cross, “The Dark Night.” In The Collected Works of St. John of
the Cross, trans. K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez
(Washington, DC: ICS Publications, 1991).
3. St. John of the
Cross, “The Living Flame of Love.” In The Collected
Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez
(Washington, DC: ICS Publications, 1991). See 1. 20 (pp. 648–649).
4. St. John of the
Cross, “The Living Flame of Love.” In The Collected
Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez
(Washington, DC: ICS Publications, 1991). See 1. 21 (p. 649).
5. St. John of the
Cross,
“The Living Flame of Love.” In The Collected
Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez
(Washington, DC: ICS Publications, 1991). See 1. 22 (p. 650).
6. William Shakespeare,
The Merchant of Venice, Act I, Scene III.
7. Note carefully,
though, that giving does not refer to the mere sharing of material
objects or wealth; it refers to the expression of profound emotional qualities
such as patience, forbearance, compassion, mercy, and understanding, which
are themselves an expression of divine love.
8. St. John of the
Cross,
“The Living Flame of Love.” In The Collected Works of St.
John of the Cross, trans. K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez (Washington,
DC: ICS Publications, 1991). See 2. 7 (p. 660).
Additional
Resources
Pastoral Counseling / Spiritual
Direction:
Chastity –
In San Francisco?
Related pages within A Guide to Psychology
and its Practice:
Anger: Insult,
Revenge, and Forgiveness
Death—and the Seduction
of Despair
Depression and
Suicide
Catholic
Links
Dream
Interpretation
Fear
Forgiveness
Identity and
Loneliness
The Psychology of
Terrorism
Questions and Answers
about Psychotherapy
Sexuality and
Love
Spirituality and
Psychology
Trauma and PTSD
The Unconscious
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