ABSTRACT

A psychoanalysis that recognizes a transcendent spiritual force that propels toward health and renewal is not altogether different, in terms of clinical practice, from its more secular counterpart. What does distinguish the former is a basis for hope that lies beyond our mere technical skills or our theoretical persuasions. For Hegel, and for those who have held to his belief in the active involvement of the Spirit (of God) through the instrumentality of surrendered humans, hope emerges from the faith that therapeutic efforts are undergirded by a transcendent enlivening force. The loving acts of each human are understood as inspired by a force for love that is committed to the enlargement of spheres of goodness within individual hearts as well as in society at large.1 Such hope was captured by theologian Jurgen Moltmann (1993) in these words:

God is he “who maketh the dead alive and calleth into being the things that are not.” The spell of the dogma of hopelessness-ex nihilo nihil fit-is broken where he who raises the dead is recognized to be God. Where in faith and hope we begin to live in the light of the possibilities and promises of this God, the whole fullness of life discloses itself as a life of history and therefore a life to be loved. … Love does not shut its eyes to the non-existent and say it is nothing, but becomes itself the magic power that brings it into being. In its hope, love surveys the open possibilities of history. In love, hope brings all things into the light of the promises of God. (pp. 31-32)

Such a faith perspective also sets apart a psychotherapy that aims merely at symptom reduction or support, from a psychotherapy that fully engages the prophetic calling of the therapist. From a Christian perspective, practicing a relationally oriented, psychoanalytic psychotherapy most profoundly mirrors Isaiah’s anointing to “proclaim the year of God’s favor” (Isaiah 61:1-4). In the process of that proclamation, we “bind up the broken-hearted,”

“free people from captivity,” “release patients from the darkness in their lives”; we “comfort those that mourn” and facilitate transformation of their ashes into “crowns of redemptive beauty.” From their hours of grieving, we locate an “oil of gladness” that had heretofore gone unnoticed. Clothed in despair, we aid in reclothing our patients in garments of joyful gratitude for life. Whereas our patients come to us feeling as wind-tossed reeds, we offer through our consistent dedication and profound involvement the possibility of a new self-identity: “oaks of righteousness,” a planting that reflects the regained image of their strong and resilient Creator. Such a therapy seeks to facilitate all the redemptive possibilities engendered in the sacred space of the counseling room, a space where active participation, that is, incarnation, becomes the precursor to resurrection. In this sacred space “Thy kingdom come” is relationally experienced in a redemptive culture of justice, love, honesty, and hope.2