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The cultural character of churches today is being Therapeutic mind-set and our Catholic tradition By John R. Buri
As an example, we can briefly examine a trite little story discussed in a book entitled How We Know: “John went to a restaurant. He ordered lobster. He left a small tip. He left.” From this “story” there is much information that we know about John even though the explicit items of information were not mentioned. For example, we know that John ate lobster, that he was served by a waitress (or a waiter), and that he was not pleased with the service and/or the food; but yet, none of these pieces of information was ever mentioned in our short story. What this brief example suggests is that when we process information, we do so within the context of our present cognitive knowledge. When I read a paragraph (e.g., a passage of Scripture) or when I experience an event (e.g., Mass; a homily), I process and interpret this information within the context of what I know about the world. To further clarify this important point about how we process information, let’s take a second example. The following paragraph was referenced years ago in my dissertation research into the effects of contextual information upon the comprehension and memory of prose material: “With hocked gems financing him / Our hero bravely defied all scornful laughter / That tried to prevent his scheme / Your eyes deceive / He had said / An egg / Not a table / Correctly typifies this unexplored planet / Now three sturdy sisters sought proof / Forging along sometimes through calm vastness / Yet more often over turbulent peaks and valleys / Days became weeks / As many doubters spread fearful rumors about the edge / At last / From nowhere / Welcome winged creatures appeared / Signifying momentous success.” The ability to comprehend and remember this passage is much greater when people are told that it is about “Christopher Columbus Discovering America” than when they are not given any contextual hints as to its meaning. Furthermore, when people are not given any contextual cues for the interpretation of the passage, they are inclined to subjectively provide a viable context from their own idiosyncratic knowledge of the world that might enable them to personally derive meaning from the passage. To the extent that they are able to develop such a context, they are able to comprehend and remember the paragraph. It should be obvious from these examples that when we process and interpret events, we do so from our existing cognitive knowledge structures (i.e., our schemas). It is through this synthesis of our cognitive knowledge of the world with the present inputs that we derive meaning from our experience. Furthermore, when we do not have at our disposal the appropriate cognitive context for an event, we often adopt an alternative contextual interpretation whereby meaning might be derived. Therapeutic schemas of our modern culture It has been suggested by several authors that more and more we find ourselves living in a psychologized society. As succinctly stated by one author (Ellison in Current Perspectives in the Psychology of Religion): “Psychology has grown into a giant during the twentieth century. No other age has witnessed such intense concentration upon the nature and functioning of ‘homo sapiens.’ Psychological terminology has become an integral part of the common vernacular and psychological concepts strongly influence contemporary thought” (p. 424). In the midst of this “psychologization” of Western language and thought, we have more and more come to view the vicissitudes of life in terms of psychological categories. Or as stated in the unlikely best-seller Habits of the Heart, the therapist (along with the manager) “largely define the outlines of twentieth-century American culture” (p. 47). In other words, sets of psychological/therapeutic schemas have grown to such a stature of prevalence, consequence, and acceptability within our culture that they dwarf all other views of reality (except possibly that of the manager). The general nature of this therapeutic mind-set has been captured in the following statement from Habits of the Heart: “Like the manager, the therapist is a specialist in mobilizing resources for effective action, only here the resources are largely internal to the individual and the measure of effectiveness is the elusive criterion of personal satisfaction . . . . Indeed, the very term therapeutic suggests a life focused on the need for a cure. But a cure of what?” (p. 47, italics are mine). We find within this definition the following components of the therapeutic mind-set. First, as it attempts to provide a viable framework for the interpretation of reality, this mind-set concentrates upon the internal psychological and emotional workings of the individual. Second, this set of cognitive knowledge structures emphasizes the need for men and women to be cured/healed. Third, the therapeutic schemas suggest to the twentieth-century interpreters of events (i.e., us) that the end results of this healing process are fewer blocks to personal growth, greater personal satisfaction and tranquillity, less personal suffering, and a greater sense of personal well-being. Fourth, this therapeutic way of perceiving reality emphasizes a utilitarian view of life in which virtually all human endeavors (from virtuous behaviors to personal relationships) are evaluated based upon criteria of psychological effectiveness. Therapeutic schemas and the Church One need not be a seer to perceive the infiltration of this therapeutic mentality into segments of late twentieth-century Catholicism. One need only browse local Catholic bookstores, where therapeutic self-help books often abound and popular religious psychology literature frequently proliferates. One need only be cognizant of the growing number of committed Catholic men and women: (a) for whom the virtues of courage, fortitude, and charity have become blurred in the midst of their psychological and emotional misgivings; (b) for whom the pursuit of goodness, truth, beauty, and moral character has been supplanted by a search for mental health; (c) for whom thoughts of loyalty, duty, and commitment have been recast in terms of personal growth and well-being; and (d) for whom suffering has become an indubitable indication that something is personally “not right” and needs “to be cured.” One need only listen to the messages all too often emanating from the pulpits in churches today, messages in which personal hurts may be seen as greater pitfalls to the Christian walk than are personal sins, where psychological wholeness is emphasized more than is sanctity, where the presence of authority may be viewed as spiritually more destructive than is the presence of Satan, and where believers may be encouraged to find themselves more than they are encouraged to find God. These comments here are not meant to suggest that the Gospel message is opposed to personal well-being and the diminution of suffering, only that such therapeutic categories may not provide legitimate criteria for evaluating the efficacy of one’s decisions, behaviors, and relationships in the Christian walk. Nor are these comments meant to suggest that solid psychological interventions may not be a vital part of the spiritual growth process for some Christian men and women, only that the standards against which the success of such interventions are evaluated may not be therapeutic ones. In other words, the Gospel has never claimed (in our classical Judeo-Christian tradition) to provide another path to “the therapeutic good life.” Christianity has not claimed uniqueness for its therapeutic benefits. Therapeutic schemas and our Catholic tradition Both traditional Christianity and modern psychology provide concepts, theories, and methods for the understanding and guidance of one’s interior life. But as Oden reported in his book entitled Care of Souls in the Classic Tradition, the authors representing the classical Christian tradition in this area of study (e.g., Augustine, Calvin, Chrysostom, Gregory, Luther, Tertullian) have given way in many seminaries to writers from the field of psychology (e.g., Rogers, Jung, Fromm, Freud). It should not be surprising therefore to find that in many churches the Gospel has been adapted to the dominant therapeutic schemas of modernity. Nor should it be surprising to find in these churches an obfuscation of such traditional Catholic ideals as selflessness and self-denial, duty and fortitude, sacrifice and sanctification. When parishioners have been encouraged to derive meaning by passing their experiences through interpretative cognitive filters that are predominantly therapeutic, is it any wonder that they may shift their church participation based upon such criteria as the quality of the music, the liveliness of the homilies, or their enjoyment of the fellowship? Or that when they find themselves in personally unfulfilling marriages, they may conclude that God could not possibly be in such a marriage? We are presently facing a challenge of great importance in our parishes as well as in the everyday lives of Catholics (and as a consequence, in our society). The ideological and cultural character of churches today is increasingly being formed by a world view which espouses, not virtue, but psychological health and well-being; a world view in which the moral excellence that can be found in suffering is often negated in the hurried search for relief; a world view in which the greatness of character that derives from habitually meeting all of one’s duties with excellence is overshadowed by the voice of therapeutic reason—“what am I going to get out of this?” We are presently in need of a clarion elucidation of the classical patristic tradition as distinct from the modern therapeutic schemas all too present in many churches today. It is within such an emphasis upon the differences between these two models of care for the interior life that we are likely to uncover and to illuminate those basic assumptions about the nature of “the good life” which under gird each of these models. It is within an emphasis upon such differences that we are likely to unearth a rich vein of perspicuous Judeo-Christian clarity concerning the soul that is so needed today for the ongoing vibrant life of the Church. The problems of human existence take on distinctively different significance when viewed through a mind-set that is intent upon the attainment of external and internal positive states than when viewed through the eyes of one who realizes the inherent suffering in the ongoing personal repentance, conversion, and regeneration asked of us by Christ, who is both our savior and our model. Years ago when I was a graduate student in Chicago, there was an article one day in one of the local newspapers about a wealthy woman who had instructed her chauffeur to drive her to a McDonald’s restaurant that had recently opened in a posh shopping mall in downtown Chicago. Upon entering the restaurant, the woman took a seat at one of the open tables and she waited. The longer she waited, the more upset she became, until she insisted upon seeing the manager because of the poor service. As this woman attempted to understand her experience at McDonald’s, she cognitively accessed her understanding of how restaurants work. However, the restaurant schemas that she had developed over the years were incorrect for her present visit to McDonald’s, and therefore she misinterpreted the situation and mistakenly organized her actions accordingly. There are many Catholic men and women today who, like the woman at McDonald’s, cognitively access their available schemas in an attempt to make sense of their life circumstances, but who come up short because the therapeutic schemas with which they have been equipped fail to adequately represent the reality of our human condition. Within our rich Catholic tradition—preserved in the works of such writers as Aquinas, Augustine, Alphonsus Liguori, Bonaventure, Chrysostom, Gregory, Ignatius, Tertullian, Theresa of Avila—there is a wealth of wisdom for the processing of information, the interpretation of experience, and the ordering of behavior. Without the cognitive knowledge structures which derive from this rich heritage, Catholics today will continue to be misled by the cognitive filters provided by the therapeutic view of human existence. While some might insist that these giants of our faith died long ago, in truth, they have been in a deep sleep, and we are now in need of priests and lay persons who have a clarity of vision and a conviction of purpose to awaken them. Dr. John R. Buri is a professor in the psychology department at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, Minn. Having earned a B.A. at Loras College, he went on to receive his Ph.D. in cognitive psychology from Loyola University (Chicago) in 1976. Dr. Buri has been active in lay ministry in the St. Paul area for the past 20 years and he is a leader in an ecumenical Christian community in the Twin Cities. Dr. Buri is married and has six children. This is his first article in HPR. |