A self-care scene showing a figure weighed down by overthinking with subtle, swirling details.

Faith and the Overburdened Self: The Paradox of Self-Care

Does reliance on self-help deepen guilt? Findings reveal that faith redirects trust from the self to the Divine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

As a psychologist and psychotherapist who specializes in the relationship between psychology and faith, I regularly work with religious people who struggle with feelings of unworthiness and guilt. Some of them have developed symptoms of OCD/Scrupulosity because their thoughts and feelings convince them––despite what Christ taught––that they are not forgiven for their sins even when they have repented. Sometimes, they find themselves compelled to call their priesthood leader every morning to confess all their sins, just as they did the day before, to calm their mind and get a brief respite from debilitating obsessive thoughts and feelings of guilt.

With ancient religious roots, self-compassion has become too secularized and psychologized.

Obsessive thoughts and feelings of unworthiness reflect complex psycho-spiritual dynamics needing culturally sensitive and competent treatment. Unfortunately, few psychotherapists have received education or training for treating clients’ spiritual and religious issues (Vieten et al., 2016). I have dedicated my 30-year career to rectifying this concern by publishing research for professional and lay audiences, teaching and training students in the relationship of psychology and faith, and personally practicing an approach to psychology and psychotherapy that appreciates and effectively treats the unique challenges people face at the intersection of psychology and theistic faith.

Because I uniquely position myself to help people of faith with psycho-spiritual issues, church leaders regularly ask me to speak to their members about related topics. Recently, I have been asked to speak more often about self-compassion. Like other concepts with ancient religious roots, this topic has become too secularized and psychologized of late. Compassion  has been mostly or altogether separated from its original purpose and meaning—‘to suffer with another.’  Now ironically made into a property of the self, each of us needs to develop and practice self-compassion in order to be healthy and well.

Too Much Self!

This shift from the religious and the relational to the secular and the individual is commonplace in psychology. It is not an exaggeration to say psychology has a fixation on locating properties and qualities within the self and then placing responsibility for the care of those properties onto the self. Here are just a few examples:

  • Be more self-reliant and strive to become increasingly self-sufficient, recognizing each person is ultimately responsible for themself.
  • In pursuit of self-mastery practice self-control over thoughts, self-regulation over feelings, and self-discipline over actions.
  • Develop a strong and positive self-concept and high self-esteem. Minimize negative self-talk and maximize positive self-affirmations.
  • Be true to yourself, live in a manner that is self-authentic and self-congruent, and beware of becoming the social self––which is the self others want you to be.
  • Above all else, love yourself, which entails things like forgiving yourself and practicing self-compassion and self-care.

Why does psychology demand so much of the self both professionally and in its wildly popular “self-help” arm?

Why the Self?

Almost 400 years ago, a French soldier, mathematician, scientist, and philosopher by the name of Rene Descartes endeavored to find certainty––which had long been the holy grail of philosophical inquiry. His 1637 publication Discourse on Method describes his application of a systematic form of skepticism through which he doubted everything possible. Descartes doubted the existence of God, the physical world, the existence of other people, and even our own bodies until he arrived at that which could not be doubted: doubt itself. To doubt is to engage in doubting. So, doubting anything––including doubt––requires doubt and the doubter. Doubting, he concluded, is a form of thinking done by a thinker. So, the thinking self is the one thing that cannot be doubted and, therefore, must be certain. This is the origin of perhaps the most influential philosophical assertion of the Western world, “I think, therefore I am,” or “When I am thinking, then I exist.”

Rene Descartes

The Burden of the Thinking Self

This makes the often frustrating “chatter” in our heads (Kross, 2021) necessary to the survival and maintenance of the self. But survival requires more than continuous thought, it requires correct thinking. Wrong thinking may not threaten being, but it wobbles the certainty of its foundation. One could live getting things wrong, but not securely or safely. So, we think very hard to get things right. From a Cartesian worldview, thinking has to be constant and correct.

The burden of self-contained thinking leaves little bandwidth available for caring about other things, including other people.

The self also has to rely on its own thinking, not the thinking of others, because the thinking self is its only sure foundation. Because of this, the consequences of the effort and energy required for thought are simply massive. In his sculpture titled The Weight of Thought, Thomas Leroy artistically captures this giant cognitive load causing people’s heads to become so disproportionately massive relative to their bodies that they literally tip over!

The Weight of Thought by Thomas Leroy

The burden of self-contained thinking leaves little bandwidth available for caring about other things, including other people. Research bears this out, showing our thoughts, conversations, and posts are self-centered most of the time (Ward, 2013). Social isolation and loneliness have become a significant public health epidemic in many countries (Surkalim and others, 2022). Psychology and psychotherapy contribute to this problem when only offering people self-solutions, which leave the self increasingly isolated (Cushman, 1990). But when the thinking self alone is the trusted source of certainty, what else can be done? 

Faith in Self or Faith in Christ?

For Christians, the philosophy of being doesn’t begin or end with Descartes and his doubt. Sixteen hundred years earlier, Jesus Christ told his followers to trust in Him––not in themselves––saying, “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself” (Matthew 16:24). His words echo the proverb “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5). Nephi––whose thoughts condemned him as a “wretched man” (2 Nephi 4:17)––would not put his trust in his thoughts and feelings, instead crying out, “O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever. I will not put my trust in the arm of the flesh” (v. 34).

Trusting in Christ over personal thoughts and feelings … requires faith …  no matter what one thinks and feels about themself.

Nephi exemplified a faithful disciple in his answer to the question facing all followers of Jesus: In whom do we place our trust, in the thinking self or in the Lord? Any self-proclaimed Christian wants to answer ‘the Lord,’ but in truth, this is not always the case. Sometimes, by prioritizing our own thoughts and feelings, we put our trust in “the arm of the flesh.”

Faith over Feelings

Consider again the psycho-spiritual issue of feeling guilty and unworthy. When breaking a commandment or neglecting the things one should do, a feeling of guilt is common. If the guilt works in a manner consistent with God’s will, then it will lead to repentance and the forgiveness God promises. The guilt should then end, having served its purpose. But often, for many people––and not just those with OCD and Scrupulosity––the guilt remains, and the forgiveness is questioned. Was the repentance sincere and sufficient? Was the sin really forsaken? Were full reparations made? Shouldn’t I feel better? Why do I still feel bad? Maybe I don’t deserve forgiveness. Maybe I can’t be worthy again. Into our heads we go.

Trusting in Christ over personal thoughts and feelings … requires faith …  no matter what one thinks and feels about themself.

People racked by thoughts and feelings of guilt after repenting trust more in their self-contained thoughts than the Savior. He has stated He will forgive sinners readily every time they repent (Mosiah 26:30), that He will remember their sins no more (Hebrews 8:12)––something only God can do, and that even if their sins are as scarlet, with repentance, they will be white as snow (Isaiah 1:18). Trusting in Christ over personal thoughts and feelings means to accept his forgiveness even when one doesn’t feel forgiven. It requires faith to trust in Him, His words, and His atonement, no matter what one thinks and feels about oneself. Nephi did that, as did Paul (Romans 12:3), a lowly prostitute (Luke 7: 36-50), and a woman caught in adultery (John 8: 3-11).

Choose His Thoughts Over Your Thoughts

This is not easy. It is actually scary. It is hard to give up something that feels familiar and essential to existence for something promised by someone other than the self, even God. It requires the leap of faith captured so beautifully by Minnie Haskins (1908):

And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year,

“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”

And he replied:

“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. 

That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”

Putting faith in Christ over ever-present thoughts and feelings is a very real and conscious choice that has to be made and remade on a regular basis. Thankfully, we have access to His thoughts––which are not our thoughts––as scripture stated by Him directly or revealed through His prophets. He has spoken to those who wrestle with their own thinking and feelings, with anxieties and fears, people who are “careful and troubled about many things” (Luke 10:41). He shows that we can be careful and troubled and still trust in His words. To accept His forgiveness, peace, and comfort, we can’t make our thoughts and feelings the arbiter of our status with the Lord, and we cannot employ self-compassion. Instead, we must yield to His compassion and what He has said over and over again that 

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish; neither shall any man [not even oneself] pluck them out of my hand” (John 10:27-29).

References:

Cushman P. (1990). Why the self is empty. Toward a historically situated psychology. American Psychologist, 45, 599-611. doi: 10.1037//0003-066x.45.5.599. PMID: 2190505.

Haskins, M. L. (1908). God knows. In https://www.stgeorges-windsor.org/the-gate-of-the-year/

Kross, E. (2021). Chatter: The voice in our head, why it matters, and how to harness it. Crown: New York.

Surkalim, D. L., Luo, M., Eres, R., Gebel, K., van Buskirk, J., Bauman, A., & Ding, D. (2022). The prevalence of loneliness across 113 countries: systematic review and meta-analysis. BMJ (Clinical research ed.), 376, e067068. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmj-2021-067068

Vieten, C., Scammell, S., Pierce, A., Pilato, R., Ammondson, I., Pargament, K. I., & Lukoff, D. (2016). Competencies for psychologists in the domains of religion and spirituality. Spirituality in Clinical Practice, 3(2), 92–114.

Ward, A. F. (July 16, 2013). The Neuroscience of everybody’s favorite topic: Why do people spend so much time talking about themselves? Scientific American.

About the author

Jeffrey Reber

Jeffrey S. Reber, Ph.D., LPC, is a professor of psychology at the University of West Georgia, a fellow of the American Psychological Association, a licensed professional counselor, and the founder of Relational Counseling and Consulting Services. He is a leader in the fields of relational psychology and theistic psychology, which treats our relationship with God as fundamental to our being, our relationships with others, and our morality. Dr. Reber is the author of Are We Special? The Truth and the Lie about God’s Chosen People (Deseret Book) and The Paradox of Perfection: How Embracing our Imperfection Perfects Us (Crosslink), as well as more than 40 articles and book chapters that are informed by his uniquely theistic relational perspective.
On Key

You Might Also Like

Hysterical Comedy about Missionary Repeatedly Raped Announced

Despite the reality of overwhelmingly peaceful Latter-day Saints, an odd cultural relic continues to portray members of the Church of Jesus Christ as violent. This is the main thesis in the recent series Under the Banner of Heaven.  Riding the wave, a new film Sinner v. Saint has just been announced, which has a Latter-day Saint main character and plenty of violence. In perhaps a welcome relief, this story doesn’t portray the Latter-day Saints as the perpetrators of violence, but rather as the victims. The story recounts the true story of a missionary who was kidnapped, tied up, and repeatedly raped before escaping. You might expect this story to be a somber account of the vestiges of anti-religious fervor, or the marginalization of Latter-day Saints in our popular imagination painting us as little more than pawns to be used. But who are we kidding?  The director, Tim Kirby has almost exclusively worked in comedies such as Fleabag, Veep, and Brockmire. Kirby describes the story as featuring “zany twists” and “quirky characters.” And ultimately he says the story is all about “obsessive first love.”

The Room Next Door Review

“The Room Next Door” is the latest example of arthouse social engineering.  The film is about a troubled woman, Martha, who in the midst of cancer treatments decides to commit suicide. If this bothers you, the film implies, it is because there is something wrong with you. This is all the more troubling, because the film, in many ways, is beautiful. It is directed by Pedro Almodóvar, one of the most acclaimed living film directors, in his first full-length film in English. And you can’t help but be taken by the beauty of it all. The film is suffused with the soft colors of the woods. Despite being an entire screenplay full of little except two friends talking, the camera work keeps the film alive and moving. And Julianne Moore and Tilda Swinton who play Ingrid and Martha once again give impeccable, engaging performances, that you can’t help but admire.  But all the beauty in this film is in service of a story that is decidedly ugly—but not self-awarely so. Our two main characters are old friends who met as young writers. Ingrid has published a best seller recently, where she writes about how she can’t accept death. On her publicity tour, she learns that Martha is in the hospital with cancer. She goes to visit her and reignite their friendship. We learn through the conversations that these characters aren’t bad people, necessarily, they just struggle to see a world outside of their own desires and consciousness. They have repeatedly avoided building relationships or having families. Martha does have a daughter. But she chased her father away, then lied to her about who he was her whole life, and then proceeded to be an absent mother so she could chase the romanticism of being a war correspondent.  Now that she is sick and dying, she notices that she has no one in her life. The movie comments on this like an unusual quirk, rather than the inevitable result of a life of bad decisions. We learn early on that cancer treatment can be a roller coaster with euphoric peaks, and miserable nadirs. During one such rut, Martha purchases a suicide pill, and decides she will kill herself. She reaches out to Ingrid and asks her to come on vacation with her, so that she will have someone in the house when she does it.  Ingrid agrees. And although she early on expresses some discomfort, she quickly respects Martha’s wishes to largely pretend nothing is happening. They have a lovely vacation in upstate New York watching old movies and reading books. While they are there, Ingrid reconnects with Damien (John Turturo) an ex-boyfriend of both hers and Martha’s. He is horrified at the state of the world, and seems to only live for sex (or to constantly talk about sex.) Damien is not a sympathetic character, and perhaps the audience is supposed to read that his unpleasant and helpless politics are akin to Martha’s helpless approach to life. If so the audience hardly has time to ponder it under a heavy heaping of affirmations about the power to choose, and the dignity to die.  Eventually, Martha does exactly what she promised to do. There is a brief police investigation where the officer (Alessandro Nivola) expresses concern that Ingrid would have knowingly not gotten help for her friend. A lawyer comes and helpfully tells the audience we can ignore that concern because he is a religious fanatic. This is the kind of movie that alludes to James Joyce not just once but three times. It is so pleased with just how artsy it is. And for a film with a message like “life isn’t worth fighting for,” the best comfort is that it’s so artsy not a lot of people will watch it.  The only people I would recommend watching this film is for those studying how society has devalued human life, and how good tools can be misused to harm people. The film is rated PG-13. It includes several normalized same-sex relationships, and some joking about polyamorous relationships. But obviously the biggest warning is the way it normalizes and glamorizes suicide. If you watch it with older teenagers, I would focus on questions about the choice that Martha made, and how family and relationships could have helped her make better choices. I might ask about how Ingrid could have been a better or more caring friend. One out of five stars. “The Room Next Door” will be released in theaters nationwide January 17, 2025.

Remembering the Bible

If we write off the Bible as irrelevant, we lose its proposals on meaning, purpose and self-worth. Other widely embraced answers, however, are despairing.