During my counseling internship, one of my clients was a young man whom I will refer to as Jim. Jim had sometimes participated in illegal drag racing on the streets of Allentown during the wee hours of the morning. During one such event, Jim was in the passenger seat when an accident occurred, resulting in the death of an innocent person in a non-racing car.
Jim had seen an experienced therapist afterwards, who made the diagnosis of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). When insurance ran out for that therapist, Jim got kicked down the stairs of our medical system to me. I felt ill-equipped to help him, but he had been assigned to me, and with the help of two supervisors, I did the best I could.
Part of the internship was to record sessions, and, with Jim’s permission, play them back with one or both of my supervisors as part of my education. During one session, Jim surprised me by nonchalantly telling me of racing again. I tried to be nonjudgmental in my response and asked if he thought that was wise. He kind of shrugged, and said, “Well, that's what we do.” I paused for a bit, pondered my next words. Finally, I spoke and said, “Have you considered making a change, and not doing any more racing?” Again, he shrugged and repeated, “No, it’s what we do. We race.” I did not pursue it any further, and our session ended soon after.
I thought I had handled it well until I played the recording for my Moravian supervisor, Dr. Beth Toler, and my four classmates. Dr. Toler asked me to interpret the exchange, and I said I thought Jim was in denial of the risk he was taking. Dr. Toler asked me to play it again, and I did so. She asked me again to interpret it. I gave the same answer and then asked her how she interpreted it. I’ll will never forget her answer. “I think you were not connected with Jim. You were not even in the same zipcode.” All of my classmates agreed with her. Their point was that Jim was revealing to me the importance of this group of people to him. My effort to apply logic and consider the danger of racing was of no relevance.
This memory was brought to light by my reading a review of the philosophy of Søren Kierkeguaad. The review is one chapter in the book shown above. Kierkegaard compares decisions based on logic to those arising from faith. He uses Abraham and Issac as an example. There is no logical reason for Abraham to sacrifice Issac to the same God who promised and then granted Abraham a son in his old age. Yet Abraham is willing to do just that because he has faith that God represents the ultimate good, and obedience to God is the highest calling.
During my session with Jim, I asked questions based on sound logic, but what Jim really needed was for me to feel and voice empathy in response to a higher calling from God. I am not sure how faith comes into play, but I wonder if I had let go of my need for logic, my faith in God may have helped me to be more useful to Jim. This probably ties into the concepts shared in my sermon The Pain of Not Knowing. A link to that message exists under the Sermons tab on the homepage of this website.
As I ponder all of the above, I also consider times of conflict with people in my life. I was usually trying to resolve the conflict with logic and was very disappointed when this approach did not work. Just how I would use faith in God as an alternative approach is not clear, but the cliché Let Go and Let God seems relevant. I expect to do much more musing on this subject, and may write of it again if any clarity appears.
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