The false self and the Christian

In psychology, I have heard several times concepts such as:

• The “false self”: this is a projection of one’s self, created to survive difficult situations
• The “ego”: this is what the false self is sometimes called
• “Ideological possession”: this is when one holds up an ideal (such as “feminism”, or “republicanism”, or “Christianity”) as the answer to every problem, and also the entire definition of self. Self no longer exists: rather, “I am a feminist.” “I am a republican.” “I am a Christian.” 
• “Mentally locked heart”: this is a term from the Christian counselling method, “Caring for the heart.” It describes someone who has learned that it is too difficult to feel emotions: rather, they spend their time exclusively in their mind. They create more and more elaborate mental pictures of reality, without ever engaging their emotions. 

What these all point to is the fact that the mind is a complex machine: it is aimed at survival above all other things. And it has learned that social survival is now more important than not being eaten by a bear. And so it has dedicated a lot of resources towards helping us survive and thrive in social groups, and society generally.

We can see this in the extreme case of Stockholm Syndrome. In some hostage situations, the prisoners will realize (on a deep/subconscious level) that they could live or die based on whether their captors are happy or sad or mad. They develop a link with them, where they become so concerned with the happiness of the captors that they care more for the captor than for themselves. This link can feel like love, and can cause them to do all sorts of irrational things, such as fight against the police, fawn on and be romantically attracted towards people who are murderous towards them, and have a lasting emotional attachment to them.

Most of us were never, nor wlll we ever be in such a life-or-death situation. That being said, the situation of being in a Christian youth group, church, and religious home has its own sorts of pressures. 

Very quickly, one can realize that a certain kind of conduct brings rewards, a certain kind of conduct brings consequences. They can realize that a certain type of questioning brings concern, ostracization (“did you hear that Billy is struggling in his faith?”), and suspicion. Their survival is not at stake: but their social status within the group is at stake. Also, their ability to attract a mate is at stake, and this triggers very deep survival instincts. I distinctly remember times when girls giggled at me as a young teenager. I fixated on those moments, and on trying to find out and eradicate whatever it was that made them laugh. The intensity of those moments, and the fact that I can stil recall them today, points out that being liked by my peers was incredibly important to me at that time: and rightly so. Those who are not liked will not be accepted into important social circles. They may never attract a mate. Their lives will be significantly worse than they could have been. 

We tell our kids, “I just want you to be happy,” and sometimes, “It doesn’t matter what anybody thinks about you. Just do what you think is right!” But of course, it does matter what others think about them. We don’t want our kids to walk around with dirty faces, farting loudly on dates, laughing raucously at nothing, and eating salad with their bare hands. It is important that our kids learn to play the game of society. It is really important. It is one of the most important things.

The problem with all of this, of course, is that one can care so much about playing the game that they forget to play another game: a game called, “let’s find out who you are.”

Of course, this game is a lot harder at precisely the age when everyone is playing it. All teens are seeking to find out who they are: and when they pull back the mask of society, they tend to find…nothing. Or very little. At seventeen, one is basically a child with pubic hair and angst. There is a vague awareness that one aught to have their own opinions, but they have only been thinking on their own for a few years: it is hard to develop truly original thoughts. And so they compensate by adopting the thoughts of peers, of musicians, or simply by adopting the opposite of their parents.

This all becomes a bit easier when one is 37. Could I say I am going through a mid-life crisis? Sure. Let’s say that.

By this time in life, I have tried a lot of things, I have believed a lot of things. Many of the things that I believed kept me safe. I am not resentful of the mask of Chrstiandom that I wore while a teen: it kept me from doing a lot of stupid things. At an age where I couldn’t make informed decisions for myself, it just kept me on the straight and narrow, and helped me avoid losing my virginity, freedom, health, and life at that crucial age when anything can change, and an entire life can be altered. 

However, I am getting to the place where I need to ask myself, “who am I, really? What do I want…really?”

When one starts to think about it, it is startling how much of one’s life can be lived like a shell. Like the Pharisees, deliberating what to say to Jesus about John the Baptist, there are certain questions that we cannot face honestly “because they feared the people.” There are many ideas and truths that are spun together into a satisfying mental house — like a ball of glass, or a glass castle — that one can climb into. From there, all of one’s questions are answered. The entire world and cosmos makes sense. Everything fits together. “Creating a mature and stable Christian worldview.” That is the mandate of my podcast — and people love it. I love it. It is not wrong to seek to understand the world. But I have felt the sting of people whose worldview is too sharp, too rigid. People who are never wrong. People who can never be wrong.

And there are questions that one cannot face honestly because if one’s beliefs shift slightly, then the whole glass castle threatens to crack. From basement to pinnacles, one can fix some fractures: but some issues cause ruptures that cannot be repaired. Issues like homosexuality, divorce, domestic abuse, and spiritual abuse can cause the entire foundation to buckle and shift. And then where does that leave us?

It leaves us with angry people. People do not like to have their castles broken.

Jesus was hated, So was Socrates. All that Socrates did was to ask people questions. What Jesus did was mostly to tell open-ended stories, in which people saw themselves in a new light. Both of these people made the world so mad that they rose up against them and killed them. 

I know that people would slaughter me if I made my blog public: there is a reason I am doing this alone, with a few trusted friends. 

And there is a third way. It is not a question of either one lives a fake life of Christianity, or one lives an authentic life as an apostate. One can live as an authentic Christian. But it is hard.

One can dare to ask the questions. One must ask them of one’s self first and foremost, of course -- challenging the world to change while ignoring one’s own problems is “projection,” a mental trap. One can ask the questions, dare to strip off them mask. Dare even to ask what they believe and why they believe the most fundamental things. And from there, to begin to build up something that feels true on an fundamental and authentic level.

In a post months ago, I talked about a moment in the shower when I was allowing my deepest self to speak. And it sang in worship of God. In recent dreams, my inner self has directed me to move closer to God: to forgive God, to start focusing on Him again.

I think that this is really powerful.

Inside us all, are several layers of personhood. The body, the mind. He heart, the rationality. Protectors, outcasts, and the like. There are many ways of putting it. It is a rare thing to have a fully integrated mind. And rarer still, a fully integrated mind in service to the King. 

I seek to find that sort of harmony, and to be that sort of a person. 

***

I realize too that a big part of what has held me up in writing is that I have been writing from my false self. My writing was really interesting — and caused a lot of controversy, and interest — when I was blogging from my true self, about questions that I had about the church, then about apologetic questions I was actually working on. 

It became plain and dull when I stopped asking questions i cared about, and started writing safe things that I thought couldn’t’ get me into trouble. Not that trouble is a barometer of honesty. Not exactly.

But this past few months of blogging has been instructive. There have been no lies, half-truths, or “I think this is what they want me to say,” in this blog. It has not all been true or correct: but it has all been honest. I have honestly struggled, and honestly wrote what I have thought was right at the time. And that, at least, makes something that I enjoy reading.

What would it be like, when this project is done, to turn to another such project? One that could arrest all of my waking thoughts? One where I could focus on a single premise (not just the vague pressure to “write something). Try to solve a single problem. A contriversial problem, perhaps: a problem that really bothers me.

And through a story, or through a series of essays, really try to solve that problem?

Not just with my mind, but with my mind, heart, and spirit all working in concert? 

In the biography/movie, “Walk the line,” the young Johnny Cash is trying to make it in music. A producer is very bored with his music. He says, “Imagine that you were hit by a car, lying in a ditch and dying. What is the one thing that you would want to say to the world with your last breath?”

“Well…” said Johnny slowly, “there was this one song I wrote while in the army…”

…and from there, a star was born. 

But not a star. That’s not the point. From there, an authentic artists was born. He began to speak the truth, his truth, and it began to resonate with others. 

This is what I want my life to be about, in this next season of my life. 

Speak the truth, speak my truth. Speak it boldly and confidently.

And let the world deal with it how they see fit.

***

Later, in the shower I reconsidered what I said. I asked myself, “is it worth it? Is it worth it to help people develop a glass castle like this? A worldview? Answer all their questions?”

It is important that they experience the love of the Father. 

This is true.