Our country is in the midst of a mental health crisis. So our leaders tell us. Just take a look at the news, and you will feel inclined to agree. At the time of this writing, reports of a school shooting in Minneapolis by a trans-identifying biological male have prompted the Health Secretary and the Vice President to call for action on the country’s mental health crisis. Recently, Illinois became the first state to require mental health screenings for public school students. This comes at a time when the CDC claims an increase in young people reporting “poor mental health.”
Post-COVID, employers emphasize the importance of “self-care” to avoid mental overload at work. Teachers are being trained to take a “trauma-informed” approach when dealing with classroom management. Doctor’s office waiting room TVs encourage patients to complete a mental health survey to ensure a better treatment plan. Online influencers garner both sympathy and admiration for sharing their “mental health struggles” with their followers. With this increased focus on mental health, it’s a wonder why America doesn’t seem to be getting well.
Christian counselor and pastor Greg E. Gifford addresses this dilemma in his book, Lies My Therapist Told Me: Why Christians Should Aim for More than Just Treating Symptoms. He argues that secular therapeutic ideology has conflated mental issues with medical illnesses, in turn treating the immaterial person with material methods. Thus, psychiatrists, armed with the DSM, have contributed to “diagnostic inflation” by prescribing drugs that treat the symptoms rather than addressing the root issues (Gifford, 20). Gifford specifically challenges the way mental health culture defines emotional well-being, offering instead a Christian alternative, which he calls “mind renewal” (128). Gifford writes in a colloquial style while grounding his work in sound research, scriptural support, and personal insights from years of biblical counseling experience. His approach ultimately makes a compelling case for a biblical response to the so-called mental health crisis.
How Did We Get Here?
In Part 1: The Mental Health Industrial Complex, Gifford lays out a historical account of the mental health movement in America, starting with its early 20th-century founder, Clifford Whittingham Beers, a bright yet deeply troubled young man. After spending time in an insane asylum, Beers not only advocated for patient rights, but he also began preaching the “common-sense gospel of right thinking, in order to bring about right living,” which became the “mental hygiene” movement (47). This term evolved into what we all know now as mental health. This was around the same time Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalysis theory was gaining traction in America. A trained neurologist and avowed atheist, Freud is often referred to as the “father of modern psychology,” which reflects the turbulent history of the field, as present-day psychiatry largely treats patients with prescriptions rather than delving into the subconscious.
Gifford asserts that mental hygiene/health is based on an “anthropological error” which treats “the mind and brain as the same thing.” Beers himself heavily leaned into the idea that medical intervention was necessary to treat “mental diseases…in the most scientific manner” (49). Through his influence, says Gifford, psychiatrists become the de facto “mental health experts.” They are medical doctors who specialize in diagnosing inner man conditions as if they are a physical illness, yet do so without any kind of physical exam. Gifford equates them to “secular pastors” who have replaced biblical wisdom and godly counsel with a secular therapeutic worldview (and a side of Prozac). It’s this kind of upside-down thinking that Gifford tackles in Part 2 of his book.
Mind Over Matter
In Part 2: Misunderstanding Humanity, Gifford begins with biblical definitions of the word mind from the Old and New Testaments. He admits that leb is used interchangeably with the word heart in the Hebrew and cautions against compartmentalizing the entirety of the inner man (mind, heart, soul, spirit) (74). An example would be Proverbs 23:7: ““As a man thinks in his heart, so is he.” However, Gifford struggles to offer a word-for-word translation for the word brain, the closest to which is kranion, or “skull,” which is seen in Luke 23:33. Perhaps the biblical writers do not make such a stark distinction because their cultures had a more holistic anthropology.
Things get a bit murky when he starts using the word “mind” in the way we typically see the word soul used, such as his statement: “The mind is everlasting” (85). One can understand how this helps support his mind/brain distinction, but it still creates a somewhat simplistic view of the symbiotic nature of the inner man. Just as Christ commands us to love him with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind (Luke 10:27), it’s helpful to understand that living a god-honoring life is more than a cerebral process. I understand this is not Gifford’s intention; however, his insistence on using the mind as a 1-1 immaterial counterpart to the human brain does not accurately reflect how the inner man is depicted in the scriptures.
Gifford is careful not to take a dualistic approach when dealing with the relationship between the mind and brain. “To say that the mind and the brain are different is not to say that there is zero interplay between the two” (90). Furthermore, he states that though the two can influence each other, “What the brain can’t do is control your mind” (92). However, his mind/brain dichotomy breaks down when it comes to actual insanity. Schizophrenia, for example, appears to be an affliction of both the inner and outer man. In “Chapter 11: Insanity and the Mind,” he affirms, “it is possible for a known biological reason for insanity to be the reason a person is acting bizarrely” (208). One would also wonder where demonic influence fits in, such as the Gerasene demoniac (Mark 5:1-20, Luke 8:26-39).
A Christian Perspective
Trauma-informed care currently reigns as the secular counseling model du jour. In Part 3: Christian Living in a Therapeutic Culture, Gifford stands on biblical authority to call out humanity’s underlying problem, which is traced back to the Garden. “Modern therapy is focused on symptom relief for this life. In contrast, the Bible shows that the roots of many of our issues are spiritual” (109). Gifford adeptly contrasts the disparity between the darkened, unregenerate mind and a mind that has been renewed upon salvation. He sees a problem with how the world defines “health,” which is “relative freedom” from symptoms that interfere with everyday life. Gifford provides Christians with another paradigm through which to view so-called mental health. “For a Christian, using the term mental health is unhelpful at best. So instead simply say ‘mind renewal,’ or even just bring up the idea of sanctification” (133). He offers practical steps for this, including stewarding our bodies and taking an eternal perspective in our thought life.
Gifford does not shy away from the controversy. He does not denounce Christians for taking psychotropic medications to counter things like anxiety and depression. He emphasizes that they should not see medication as their “savior” but must instead look to Christ and his Word as their true source of sufficiency (155). He also addresses the late John MacArthur’s remarks on the “myth of mental illness,” specifically that there’s “no such thing as PTSD…OCD…ADHD,” (MacArthur later clarified his statement). While Gifford concedes to the reality of these symptoms and are sometimes necessary to receive treatment, he does not believe they are “truly illnesses of the mind” (191-193). Nor does he believe they are life-long labels a person must identify with. He delves into more particular issues and diagnoses in the remaining chapters and includes a Q&A section. Gifford’s nuanced, compassionate, yet biblically faithful approach to these issues, which affect so many Christians personally, is appreciated.
Conclusion
While Gifford’s mind/body distinction may oversimplify the complexities of the inner person, the general principle of the inner/outer man distinction rings true. It’s reminiscent of Francis Schaefer’s “fact/value” split, which helped encapsulate the inter-relationship between the material and immaterial. Just as Schaefer’s framework shows that secularism reduces everything to the material level, Gifford aims to debunk the reductionistic view that inner man issues can be resolved by healing the brain. Now, whether “mind renewal” can replace “mental health” in our Christian vernacular remains a tall order. The tentacles of therapeutic-speak run deep in our churches (see empathy).
The false religion of psychology has pervaded our culture, influenced our language, and infiltrated our churches; we need Christian voices like Gifford to sift through the falsehoods in order to preserve the biblical truth. Our society is more secular than previous generations, and believers must be armed with biblical wisdom to counsel our family and friends on the issues of life, especially as they pertain to the inner man. Lies My Therapist Told Me helps guide Christians on that path.
