Christ and Freud (RLE: Freud)

A Study of Religious Experience and Observance

Arthur Guirdham

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781317975977
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: Psychoanalysis
• Index: Psychology

Originally published in 1959, this book is primarily concerned with the question of psychiatric factors in religion, and, conversely, with that of religious factors in psychiatry. It rejects the Freudian theory that religion is a form of obsessional neurosis. Though this latter hypothesis may explain many of the phenomena of religious observance, it cannot explain the reality of religious experience. Dr Guirdham believes that orthodox Christianity is a perversion of the psychologically irrefutable teaching of Christ and that its conception of God as a supreme being endowed with supreme power, its teaching on the resurrection, and its contamination with a sense of guilt, are especially conducive to psychiatric disorder. He shows how theology may actually be inimical to religious experience and how faith differs from belief and is a response of the whole man. The book explains also the psychological origins of clericalism and demonstrates the role played by the latter in stifling religious experience.

PART ONE

Christ and Freud

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I

THE RELIGIOUS ASPECT OF PSYCHIATRIC ILLNESS

Man’s attitude to God, the Absolute, or whatever he choses to call the universal conception he either worships or shrinks from, is probably the most important of his co-ordinated reactions. The fact that he may have consciously excluded religion from his life does not invalidate this contention. The more ferociously he pursues the path of materialism the more evident his reaction against more universal and timeless conceptions. The atheist would not so bitterly inveigh against God if, with some part of his being, he did not believe in His existence. One does not fulminate against nothing. Nor would the agnostic argue so convincingly and at such length the necessity of doubt if he were not himself struggling against some inward conviction. Very often men reason best in defence of the indefensible.

Many may be inclined to question the part religion, or our negation of it, plays in our lives. Until recent times it was taboo in our Anglo-Saxon civilization to discuss the three subjects of God, death and money. The fact that such a strong embargo was exercised in our Protestant mercantile society emphasises the degree to which the three subjects were still of immense importance to us.

When I say that our acceptance or negation of religion is a fundamental factor in our lives I am not referring to the teachings of any particular creed or sect but to the maintenance or abandonment of a religious attitude towards life. By this latter phrase I imply that the individual does not regard himself as a self-contained entity with complex social relationships, but as a part of the universal spirit which is in all things and which exists beyond considerations of space and time.

If we believe in the importance of our attitude towards religion we are bound to accept that the relationship between the latter and psychiatry is of vital significance. Psychiatry is concerned with the disorders of our intellectual and emotional life. It stands, therefore, in the closest relation to our religious attitude, seeing that the latter is the strongest factor tending to co-ordinate and harmonize these psychological processes. Now the importance of the religious factor obtrudes itself at every turn in our observation of the psychologically sick and especially of the neurotic. For the benefit of those without psychiatric knowledge, if such persons still exist against a cultural background which confers on the individuals belonging to it a little knowledge and less understanding of a lot of subjects, it may be profitable to define the different varieties of neurosis. There are first the anxietv states characterised bv in-creased tension, by indefinable feelings of dread, by special phobias of heights, closed spaces and disease, and by those physical disturbances, consequent on anxiety, which are known as somatic symptoms. Secondly, we have the obsessional states which specially affect the over-conscientious and which are often accompanied by ritualistic actions and compulsive thoughts which appear to be forced on the individual against his own will. Thirdly, there are the hysterical conditions in persons of heightened suggestibility. These latter, at the present time, express themselves most commonly in the form of what appear to be physical symptoms but which have no organic foundation. There are also the states of neurotic depression which are either reactive to adverse circumustances or longstanding anxiety, or which have their basis in the glandular and biochemical constitution of the individual. Compared with the psychoses, or mental diseases, the neuroses do not cause any dramatic deterioration in the personality of the individual, who is able to maintain his place in society. In this book I am chiefly concerned, so far as my study of psychiatric illness is concerned, with the neuroses.

Probably all neurotic conditions, together with a large proportion of the psychoses, exhibit a common factor which stands in the closest relation to one of the most fundamental attributes of religious experience. This common finding is the victim’s excessive and painful consciousness of his own personality.¹ In phases of health and happiness our consciousness of our personalities is relatively minimal. All neurotic states are manifestations of insecurity, and what is a sense of insecurity but a perception of ourselves as unpleasantly separated from God, from our fellows and nakedly apart from the world we live in? The patient suffering from phobias is painfully reminded of his own vulnerable and separate existence when he quails from crossing an open space, an action performed without thought and effort by individuals not so afflicted. Most states of severe depression, whether neurotic or psychotic in nature, are accompanied by intense self-accusation, in which the individual blames himself, with a ferocious absence of logic, for sins he has never committed or faults he has never exhibited. Self-accusation is the dire apotheosis of self-consciousness. All symptoms of all diseases, whether psychiatric or physical, are manifestations of a heightened perception of ourselves as individuals. Physical pain, for example, is a sharp reminder of our separate existence.

The neuroses are specific forms of unhappiness manifested in the form of disease symptoms and, in their purest development, in the absence of immediately tangible causes. But what we have said about the individual’s painfully heightened perception of himself applies to all forms of unhappiness not honoured by the spurious dignity of medical nomenclature. We may indeed go further and say, to take the converse case, that man’s greatest happiness is experienced in those moments when his perception of himself as a separate individuality is at its lowest. In love, in its spiritual aspect, the individual annihilates himself in contemplation of the adored object. In physical love, where it reaches the plane of ecstacy, the individuals concerned achieve the benediction of self-forgetfulness in a crescendo of shared sensation. The effect of great art, or of beauty in any form adored by the observer, is to induce a state of being lost, often described by the individual as ‘being taken out of himself.’ All happiness is a little death, in which the individual abandons for the moments of its duration the conglomeration of desires, sentiments and ambitions which go to make up his personality. Even the successful accomplishment of desire itself ensures its own death. Love, which in one form or another is regarded as the greatest blessing with which the individual can be endowed, involves the annihilation of his awareness of his separate existence.

Now while, in psychiatry, we are confronted with increased awareness of personality, it is only in religion that we find emphasised the importance of the opposite condition of non-selfconsciousness. All the great religions of the world, and for my purposes I refer especially to Christianity, Buddhism and the Hindu faiths, insist on the necessity of the individual seeking self-obliteration by absorption in God or the Absolute. By self-obliteration I do not mean the performance of unselfish acts or stressful, purposive and often unsuccessful attempts to think of others rather than oneself. So-called good works are oftfm among the most self-conscious acts performed by the individual. As he goes slumming or on his errands of mercy the individual may be all too conscious of himself engaged in an occupation which may be an effort and against the grain. By self-obliteration I am trying to convey that perception of oneself as a dimly apprehended instrument of a more universal influence rather than as a separately functioning personality. In the three religions mentioned above self-surrender is not only implied in their basic creeds but, in addition, specific techniques are encouraged to facilitate the development of such a state of enlightenment. In Christianity we may study the methods advocated by St Ignatius Loyola, or practice meditation or go into retreats. Unfortunately these methods are less developed in Christianity than in the other two great religions. In Buddhism contemplative exercises are recommended in which the individual is enabled to shed his conception of himself as a separate individuality. The aim of some of these exercises is to change the subject’s attitude to his own body so that he sees it not as a personal possession but as a for-tuitious collection of organs and tissues. In certain of the Hindu faiths the practice of Yoga encourages the devoté to lose his individuality in merging with the universal spirit.

There is therefore a strong case for the utilization of the methods of religion in the treatment of psychiatric disorders. Perhaps, so far as the neuroses are concerned, the individual cannot be considered on safe ground until he has recaptured or redeveloped a religious attitude. It is therefore important that we should examine the present relations existing between psychiatric and religious opinion.

When I speak of psychiatry I am referring to the psychotherapeutic techniques based on the analytical doctrines of Freud, Adler, Jung and others. This approach is especially concerned with the relationship between underlying emotional states and manifested disease symptoms. The so-called dynamic methods, which include insulin shock and electric convulsive therapy, are not relevant to this thesis. Where psychotherapeutic techniques are employed they are based essentially on the findings of the analytical school. This is true whether the psychiatrist employs the classical method of psychoanalysis, or whether he limits himself to psychotherapy on a more superficial level or to abreactive treatment with the aid of drugs. Whatever the form of psychotherapy favoured, the psychiatrist is employing the principles of psychoanalytic theory as laid down by Freud, Adler and Jung, and more especially, by the first-ngmed. Our discussion reduces itself to a study of the present relations existing between psychoanalytic and religious opinion.

¹ When I speak of self-awareness I am referring to the subject’s perception of the personality of his desires, ambitions and sentiments, in fact to the self, in the mundane sense of the word, as understood by the average individual with no introspective endowments and no special religious or philosophical inclinations. I am emphatically not referring to the ecstatic self-awareness which accompanies certain states of mysticism or enlightenment and which is indeed the total opposite of the condition we are considering.

II

SOME PSYCHIATRIC MECHANISMS IN RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCE

When I refer to religion it should be understood that for the purposes of this argument I am dealing mainly with Christianity. This is for several reasons. Psychoanalysis arose against the background of an at any rate officially Christian Europe. Its principles have been applied for the most part in Europe and in the overseas countries founded by settlers from this continent. Secondly, in comparison with what obtains in Christian countries, the neuroses are of far less incidence in Buddhist and Hindu communities. The practice of psychoanalysis is less in the latter communities because they have less need for it. In considering psychoanalytical principles mainly in relation to Christianity it may be objected that Freud himself was a Jew. Be this as it may, he lived and practised against a background of orthodox Christianity. Furthermore, as we shall show later, orthodox Christianity has never been thoroughly emancipated from the shackles of Judaism from which Christ sought to free it.

Let us deal first with the attitude of the exponents of psy-cholanalysis towards religion. Though this has been modified in recent years, it is incontrovertible that originally psychoanalytic teaching insisted that religion was essentially a myth produced by man for his own comfort. Freud, in writing on this subject, was sufficiently convinced to entitle his thesis ‘The Future of an Illusion’. His argument was, briefly, that religion was a kind of mass obsessional neurosis. He compared the ritual of religion, with its constant repetition of certain actions and phrases, with the compulsive actions and thoughts of the obsessional neurotic. According to Freud, to touch one railing in three as one passes down the street, or to be careful to walk on all the lines between the stones of the pavement, are actions essentially similar in origin to passing one’s fingers through holy water. Similarly, to be afflicted by the recurring fear that one might commit suicide shares a common psychological causation with the repetition of certain phrases in the Litany. Religion and the obsessional neurosis are held to have a common basis in a sense of guilt. The latter is usually said to have its origin in shame derived from infantile sexual experiences. Both religion and obsessional neurosis require an atoning ritual. In the case of the former this is provided for in the liturgy and by acts of atonement and the performance of penances. In the obsessional state the placating of the Evil Eye is achieved through the characteristic compulsive thoughts and actions. Heaven, to Freud, is a form of wish fulfilment. We believe in its existence because without such a belief life on this earth would be altogether too bleak. Similarly God, the Father, is an infinite projection of our own male parent, infinitely wise and benevolent if he is loved, or all-powerful if he is accepted with reservations. The emotional energy available for the purposes of religion is derived from the suppression, or partial suppression, of the sexual instinct by the process of sublimation.

It should be made clear that in the ensuing paragraphs I am discussing religion in the doctrinal as distinct from the mystical sense of the term. I am concerned with the observances and the theological structure of organized religion as we know it. This is for the simple reason that Freud himself only considered religion in this light. To him revealed religion and the direct experience of God did not exist, except as illusory phenomena. It will be seen later that this was the cardinal error of the Freudian system. Naturally the phenomena of mystical and revealed religion occur within the limits of organized creeds. It is, indeed, the aim of the more enlightened leaders of orthodox opinion to open the hearts of their followers to direct experience of God. But in this section one can only refer to religion in the terms mentioned above, because these are the limits of controversy imposed by Freud himself.

It is quite impossible to devote time to the examination of the Freudian view of religion from the point of view of psychiatric theory. The possibilities of the subject are endless. I think, however, it would be useful to mention an inconsiderable fraction of the historical and clinical evidence relevant to the subject.

The history of religion is as old as man. Even at his most primitive he has felt the need for systems of religious belief. We should allow that these systems may be as much a part of man’s adaptation to a hostile environment as are the changes in the physical and mental habits he has manifested in the course of his history. At his most primitive, and where the threats to his integrity have been thunder and lightning and the cruder forces of nature, the religious observances of men have been embryonic and unsystematized. They have consisted of simple propitiatory offerings and gestures. The first of these latter, like the offerings of food and slaughtered animals, were as physical and crude as the pattern of his life. Where the dangers to which he has been exposed have become less crude and physical, the religious observances of man have become more theological and systematized and have manifested themselves in prayers and penances. The mere fact that religion is of antique origin and has been constantly present in man’s history is no proof of its validity. From many aspects it can be conceived of as anodyne and a protection, the form of which has varied according to the different ways in which man has viewed his always vulnerable condition.

Religion as conceived of by Freud is a neurosis and the latter condition is invariably associated with a sense of insecurity. Now one of the classical methods used by the individual to escape from this predicament is to submit himself to the discipline and protection of systems of ideas. For the most part religious systems are better than their secular counterparts in serving this purpose. At the present time political systems only serve this purpose in so far as they are primarily religious and secondarily political. The Nazi movement had all the attributes of a religious creed and was endowed with a fervour and fanaticism which had not been seen in Europe since the wars of religion and which exceeded these latter in barbarism. To regard the Nazi movement as a kind of specialized political disturbance manipulated by thugs is to fail to comprehend one of the most significant lessons of the last few centuries. It spread with epidemic virulence in a nation more prone to neurosis than any other in Europe and which has for long produced a more than normal quota of adolescent suicides and other manifestations of maladjustment. Communism, too, has all the attributes of an organized religion. It has a rigid system of ideas, many of them rudimentary and of limited scope, but for which an universal application is demanded. It does not permit its followers ideas about its ideas and in different moral situations its ethical standards are dizzily varying. It is of great significance that in a largely agnostic age the attraction of religious systems is so strong that the only political movements with any ardour have converted themselves into religious creeds.

In the course of history it is all too obvious how the exponents of organized religion have used their particular creeds as a buttress for their own insecurity. The ferocity with which they have defended themselves against the adverse criticism of even minor deviationists is illuminating. The naturally irreligious can be distinguished by the fury with which they support the articles of religion. Stable individuals do not display towards those who differ from them signs of intolerance, let alone those of vindictiveness. Still less do those, genuinely secure in the love of God, exhibit the signs of fear and insecurity which are the basis of religious persecution. In the last analysis it is questionable if the truly religious have beliefs at all, in the intellectual sense of the term. One of the final stages of dedication is when the individual surrenders even his beliefs in the cause of trust and resignation. Faith is a reaction of the whole being and not an act of intellectual subservience.

Men have wondered for centuries how Christians can have tortured and killed each other, for the love of God, and what intricate variety of spiritual blindness could have enabled the Inquisition to burn devout Christians in the name of Christ. Modern psychiatry permits us to see that the Inquisitors were themselves, below the conscious level, afflicted with doubt. Men so doubting, and reacting with guilt towards their uncertainty, could atone and reassure themselves either by the punishment of themselves or others. In such circumstances the choice of self-castigation or the chastisement of others depends on the temperament of the individual. The flagellants were recruited from t...