Ancient Christian Wisdom and Aaron Beck’s Cognitive Therapy: A Meeting of Minds
by Newnameelizabeth
At Second Terrace I learned about a group blogging project providing excerpts from a new book that explores the relationship between “secular” behavioral-cognitive therapy and the wisdom of the Church Fathers (yay). Here’s a sample paragraph from Mystagogy, the first post of four.
With that introduction in place, I should mention that I have been an Orthodox monk for nearly twenty-five years. I lived on the Holy Mountain for a decade during which time I got to know some wonderful fathers who tasted the most sweet fruits of the prayer of the heart and intimate communion with Christ. I also encountered novices and monks discouraged by the struggle and wondering why those same fruits seemed beyond their reach. I saw acts of self-sacrifice and love that moved me deeply. I also was saddened to see others who were so obsessed with certain thoughts that they missed opportunities to serve their brethren and although they desired to act virtuously and to love sincerely, insecurities, feelings of inferiority, and suspicions compelled them to react in ways that they themselves deplored. My heart went out to those monastics. I prayed for them, but what else could I do?
– Ancient Christian Wisdom and Aaron Beck’s Cognitive Therapy: A Meeting of Minds, by Fr. Alexis Trader.
Please see the two posts linked above for more, links to the other posts, excerpts from Orthodox Christian Info, and a link to Amazon for the book itself.
I’ll go ahead and include another paragraph; this one from Orthodoxinfo.
At first glance, the similarities between patristic pastoral tradition and cognitive therapy are indeed striking. Byzantine epistemology with its unity between theoria and praxis has been functionally described as “rationalism and empiricism,”[18] the very terms that could be used to characterize the epistemology utilized in cognitive therapy. In fact, the church fathers, as empiricists,[19] follow the pathway that underlies cognitive research—clinical observation followed by theoretical composition,[20] or put differently, empiricism and then rational discourse.[21] Both the fathers and cognitive therapists are committed to honesty and avoiding deception.[22] Both “assume limited freedom and a partial determinism.”[23] Both are motivated by compassion for suffering people and a desire for their restoration to health.[24] Both recognize that talking can be a means for behavioral change.[25] Both affirm the centrality of the thought-life or meaning-making structures of cognition in psychological functioning.[26] Both view unhealthy thoughts about the self, the environment, and the future as a source for psychological problems.[27] Both recognize that the correction of the thoughts[28] or the purification of the thoughts is the foundational dimension of the return to health and wholeness. Both see the use of reason as instrumental in better human functioning.[29] Both assert that a human being is able to exert “personal control over thoughts and behaviors that promote change in a healthy direction.”[30]
This part in particular caught my eye, “Both recognize that talking can be a means for behavioral change.” My first reaction is that Orthodoxy, imo, teaches silence instead of encouraging people to talk. We are to silence our thoughts, rationalizations, self-justifications, and even our imagination (btw, there’s an interesting Kierkegaard quote about the imagination that I’ve been thinking may be blog-worthy). We are told what to say in prayer and in worship. Personal innovation and spontaneity is discouraged. On the other hand, we are to seek counsel, which is what this book is about, and go to confession to talk about our failings. I very much like the focus of this book in that it isn’t so much about failing God and each other (guilt, guilt, guilt), but how we fail ourselves.
Words 
It’s a wonderful point that Orthodoxy in general and hesychasm/monasticism in particular teach the value of silence, not talking. Thanks for making it.
There are encounters and conversations that can be life-changing and provide that silence with the fullness of Christ, making it a rich and fertile silence that brings joy and peace to the soul and to those who come into contact with the soul. The book is, as you rightly put out, about those transfiguration encounters in the Church and modern “equivalents” in secular society.
Thank you, Father.
Silence as stillness, I suppose.
I find it very interesting when people outside the Church figure things out. It makes me wonder if it’s because of God-given intuition, or passed down tradition that they may not necessarily be aware of, or just experience with the reality of who we are.
Andea,
Yes, silence as stillness.
God-given reason can figure out many things about how we act and why we react in certain ways. But the deeper meaning and eternal significance of our actions and thoughts lie outside of what God-given reason can discover. At a certain crucial point, revelation is necessary. The fathers direct reliance on divine revelation, but use of God-given reason, gives their words a greater impact.
Yes, it seems that truth is better understood backwards. Revelation makes sense after it is given.
It seems to me science is pretty good at diagnosing problems, which gives some comfort in understanding. But the cure lies in the Church. I think suffering is part of the search for God, and enduring it can be an intermediate step to finding some of the blessings. Maybe people don’t expect that. It’s kind of like an initiation to see if you can stand the course.
Yes, your point about suffering is well taken. In the book, I note,
“While reducing melancholic feelings in the depressed, anxiety in the agoraphobic, and cravings in the addict are all worthwhile aims, the Christian does not view all pain as pathological. There are instances in which pain of heart has a transfigurational potential that should not be avoided by analgesic means. In the Christian understanding, healing and symptom reduction are no more synonymous than cure of an ailment and a painkiller masking that condition.Nevertheless, if other positive functions of pain especially in repentance are recognized, cognitive therapy’s goal of symptom reduction could be adopted as a subgoal in the larger Christian aim of union with Christ.”
That’s an interesting distinction between pathological or dysfunctional pain, and pain caused by sin and the recognition of and turning away from it. I think dysfunctional pain often goes hand in hand with sin, and it is hard to separate them. Wrong things happen that cause dysfunction, but yet we are responsible for how we react. Grief and self-pity are very similar. I suppose healthy grieving follows the Five Stages, whereas unhealthy grieving gets stuck in one of them: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. It seems to me depression is studied according to its cause, whether it’s from an identifiable loss, abuse, or chemical imbalance (which I think can be the eventual result of spiritual factors), whereas anxiety is placed more in the bearer’s lap. We are told to “be anxious for nothing”, stop worrying, take a deep breath, take a Xanax, be cool, etc. Maybe since people feel more responsible for their anxiety, they more actively try to do something about it like self-medicate with alcohol, cigarettes, food, attention-seeking, or hopefully, seeking the Lord through prayer, especially the Jesus Prayer, and going to Church.
I think a good spiritual father should distinguish between the two types of pain you describe, because while there are spiritual readings about despair and acedia, it can seem that some can have an exclusive focus on sin and repentance which can make a person’s anxiety worse sometimes. I think a healthy endpoint is believing yourself responsible for the sins of the world, but a necessary midpoint for the introverted, anxious person (not the prideful, blaming person?), may be in recognizing that some things aren’t your fault. Then when bad things that happened are properly grieved over, a person can accept that they too have the tendencies (at least) that lead to those bad things happening. It’s a hard balance, but I think it is worth the self-examination.