Ritual Containment, 2

Another thought I had today, which begins with preaching (which is sort of really mainly pastoral care) and ends with psychology (which is also sort of really also pastoral care), is that I wonder how many therapists use good 'ritual containment' in their work, and the consequences of not doing so.

For example, I have a dear friend who experienced incest during childhood and has since for years been in regular therapy. She tells me that afterwards, she's really 'out of commission' for quite a while before being able to resume her usual daily life activity. But, she also really relies on this therapist and goes back again and again.

I love my friend, and I'm not entirely convinced she's being helped by this therapist.

Therapy, I think, is tricky. In fifty minutes, you have to create the safe space in which a person can completely open up their deepest hurts and probe them--and then get 'put back together again' before walking out the door.

I think the first part usually happens, but I'm not so sure the second part does--generally speaking and having done a reasonable amount of therapy myself in life (as do we all, or most, especially in seminary). I think more often it's, 'Oh, look at the time. When shall we schedule the next appointment? See you then.'

And you walk out the door with your guts still leaking out. Or perhaps even wondering what that other, relative stranger of a person, even thought. (So often therapy is done on the 'blank slate' model, which I'm not convinced is consistently helpful either).

I'm cynical enough in general to think that this is the 'perfect' financially secure therapist-client relationship: if I open you up and leave you hanging, you might get a little better, but not much. And the big, dark world will feel even more scary perhaps--so you'll come running back to me. And I can keep billing.

I think this is another example of what Dr. Moore and Dr. Edgerton so frequently refer to as 'pseudo-therapy:' I pretend to be a therapist, and you pretend to get better.'

Restoration after revelation, especially of the deep wounds, I think is so critical to pastoral care. Even moreso perhaps than in regular one-on-one therapy. The therapist is a 'stranger' in a different world; the pastor is part of the spiritual community in which you participate intimately. If the pastor doesn't restore before the end of the visit, how can that person be restored to the community? Will that person see themselves, and communicate themselves (perhaps unconsciously, or in anxiety) as 'the sick one?' And once you're labeled as sick, it's hard to be given room to be transformed into the role of 'healed and whole one.' I see it all the time, whether physical, mental, or emotional, and so on.

Maybe that is pseudo-ministry...