Cultural Casebook: How To Hear the Voice of God

T M Luhrman is a psychological anthropologist, which means she likes to investigate our lives from the inside, and see how we create our worlds through the workings of our minds. In this book, she reports on the process by which evangelical Christians learn to hear the voice of God.

Luhrman is agnostic about whether or not these people are 'really' tuning into the voice of the Almighty. She makes no pronouncements about whether or not she believes in God herself. And this neutrality makes the book possible. It's not a polemic; it's an impartial investigation. In order to research the book she joined a congregation, attended church, went to bible study meetings and other classes, learned to pray and interviewed the church members about their own experience. The result is fascinating. I couldn't put it down.

What Luhrman found is that evangelicals learn to tune in to the different qualities of thoughts within their own mind, in order to distinguish the impulses of ego from the 'other' messages that come to them, potentially from God. (They qualify the 'other' voices carefully, to ensure that they really are divine, using criteria such as whether the message is asking you to hurt yourself or someone else, in which case, it is classified as not the voice of God.) As a Jungian, I would identify these 'other' messages as coming from non-ego parts of the psyche. Instead of messages from God, I would call them messages from the Self--that part of the psyche which participates in the universal ground of being, and which one might call the soul. For Jungians, a dialogue between the ego and the Self is essential to health and individuation, or evolution.

Luhrman also distinguishes several types of prayer, and reports that evangelicals train their minds to enter into the stories of the bible, visualising the scenes in sensory detail, in ways that are similar to the visualisation prayers used by Tibetan Buddhists. This training results in sharper mental imagery, more intense emotional experience of God, and better ability to hear 'his' voice.

A key element of the evangelical experience is the gradually acquired certainty that God loves you exactly the way you are. God becomes a self-object, in psychological terminology, which has an enormous healing potential. And in a stunning paradox, not having prayers answered seems to increase the faith of an evangelical Christian, who learns to lean into God for comfort and love.

This book is fascinating in itself, a 'must' if you're interested in the psychology of religion, and a great source of insight if you work or live with Christians. As a non-Christian, I found myself drawn to trying some of this, as indeed did Luhrman. Anyone in Jungian analysis learns to heed the voice of the Self, so the idea made sense to me. In Jungian therapy we use art and active imagination to engage in dialogue with the Self, and we attend to the synchroncities that happen in life, and which seem to provide us with guidance. It's not so far removed from the phenomena Luhrman describes, and I found the book creating an unexpected bridge for me to the world of evangelical Christianity.

Amaeru: A Japanese Term For The Desire and Need To Be Cared For

The Japanese concept of amaeru became known in the West via the work of Japanese psychologist Takeo Doi.

According to Doi, amaeru refers to the behaviour of attempting to get someone to take care of you--usually a parent, teacher, spouse or boss. Doi defines amaeru, as meaning "to depend and presume upon another's benevolence." It indicates "helplessness and the desire to be loved", and denotes 'dependency needs'.

Amae (the noun form of amaeru) describes behaviour which constitutes an implicit request for indulgence of one's perceived needs--it may include coyness, capriciousness and childishness. It is based on the prototype of a child's behaviour with its parents.

A Japanese website retells a story from Doi, about amae and how the lack of amae in America shocked him: "His friend put some cookies ... on a table and said "If you are hungry, please help yourself." Coming from the culture of amae, Doi felt put out. He was hungry, but he was in an amae frame of mind. He did not want to say, "Well I don't mind if I do," and tuck into the cookies. He wanted his host to actively perceive ("sasshi") that he was hungry and give him a plate of cookies. He wanted to be mollycoddled. The word "mollycoddle," not so common in English, helps us to understand the term amae. Some one who wants to be mollycoddled does not articulate their desire but hopes by their person or their actions to elicit indulgence from an other without the use of language. As soon as they put their desire into language they are putting themselves on an equal footing, as another separate desiring individual - but the person who "amaes" (if I am allowed to conjugate the verb) wants to merge (Doi argues) with the other."

According to the Wikipedia article on Doi, the range of behaviours described by amae includes that of "a husband who comes home drunk and depends on his wife to get him ready for bed. Amae has a connotation of immaturity, but it is also recognized as a key ingredient in loving relationships, perhaps more so than the notions of romance so common in the West."

Some more examples of amae are listed here, in a blog by a Spanish person living in Japan. S/he also notes: "Amae plays a fundamental role in a collectivist society where individualism is not well seen and people likes the group to have the power. Amae helps in the process of creating harmonious interconnections inside the family, in the companies and between friends. Japanese do not usually confront each other. It is very difficult to see Japanese people arguing. Amae is one of the tools to keep the harmony, the peace, the wa 和 in the Japanese society. [sic]"

The concept of amae was taken up by US psychologists Elisabeth Young-Bruehl and Faith Bethelard, who translate it as 'cherishment' in their book 'Cherishment: A Psychology of the Heart'. Young-Bruehl and Bethelard use the concept of amae to argue for a more loving form of psychotherapy, proposing that the desire of clients to be cherished is profound, and often goes unmet in therapy. They suggest that pathologies arise when this so human need is not satisfied.

It seems to me that latter concept is important to consider--especially in this culture, where dependency needs are pathologised, and there is little, if any, acceptance of our lifelong human need to be cherished, taken care of, and understood without having to explain.