The Priest and Persona
One of the most damaging things about Christian ministry is the mask!
I am a priest and with that comes a sincere desire to help other priests navigate the ministerial journey. My vocation also brings a genuine desire to help others grow spiritually. At present, I’m in the final stages of my first doctorate. I’m writing a dissertation, and hopefully, a book informed by it. This article comes from that research. I hope it highlights some of my findings and those findings can be helpful to clergy and spiritual people in general.
One thing Christians do that is often damaging is hand their priest or minister a mask and say, “Here, we expect you to wear this.” They do not mean ill. They usually wish their pastor no harm. Yet many still have an unconscious persona that they expect the priest to wear. What the unconscious parishioner unknowingly says is, “This is what I expect you to look like, this is how I expect you to preach, and this is how I expect your family to act.” Of course, this applies to nearly any service-oriented role, but I think it causes ministers a particular hardship.
I have heard most people explain the mask as a “higher standard” to which they hold the priest. The congregants often expect the minister to met the projection and accept the mask without resistance. Failure to wear it often leads to what Jung would call projection of the personal shadow and thus judgment. What he means is if the priest does not wear the mask, the congregants will project their own guilt, shame, and personal issues on to the clergy. In other words, what we resist in others usually tells us a lot about ourselves.
Jungian Archetypes at work in faith communities.
Jung pioneered the work on archetypal psychology. I think it can be particularly helpful for modern spirituality. I’ll never forget an encounter I had with an archetypal persona of the priesthood. The year was 2010, and I was deployed to Afghanistan. I was, upon my entry into the military, the youngest chaplain on active duty. There wasn’t much I could do about that.
My battalion executive officer embarrassed me in front of a crowd of other officers. He said, “I don’t have much faith in you. Chaplains are supposed to be old, like your grandfather, who can offer advice. You’re too young for that.” It was hurtful, but I tried to play it off as just fun banter and save face in front of my colleagues.
Enter Jung’s archetype of the Wise Old Man.
The Wise Old Man serves as a spiritual guide and a giver of knowledge. The Wise Old Man can be a mask that we personally wear or one we expect of others in religious roles. We see the Wise Old Man often in the journeys of heroes in mythology and stories. He is there to accompany, serve, and offer wise advice. He never fails to be the bigger person and do the “right” thing.
What my old executive officer did not know, and what many Christians are unaware of, is they project this persona from their clergy. When we, as flawed humans, fail to meet the “higher standard” of the projection, we become the opposite of wise. We then receive the stigma of immature and uninitiated.
The problem with the priestly mask is that it leaves no room for the ambiguity of life. It is constraining, and it ignores the three-dimensional complexities that make us humans.
The Star Wars Archetype.
In my spiritual tradition, a new priest is “installed” into a church with a ritualistic ceremony. I vividly recall one of my installation ceremonies where the priest who preached the sermon directly confronted the persona in the congregation. He said, “Your measure as a parish will not be if you love Rian when he pleases you. Your measure as a parish will hinge on how you treat Rian when he disappoints you.”
I’ll take some liberty and paraphrase that priest. To put a pop culture spin on it, he said, “What you really want is Obi-Wan Kenobi. There are times when your priest can be that for you, but he is not, nor can he ever be reduced to the one-dimensional role of simple spiritual guide.”
He was right, Obi-Wan was an excellent guide for Luke in Star Wars. However, how would we feel if Obi-Wan disappointed us? Said another way, Obi-Wan could only be Obi-Wan to Luke because he failed his father, Anakin in the first place. Part of the growth process is learning to see others in three dimensions.
The real problem is when the priest, or any other person, becomes so identified with the mask that they can’t tell where the mask ends, and they begin.
A friend, a priest, came to my office sobbing. He walked in, sat down, and by his tears I could tell he was in a crisis. I stood up from the chair behind my desk and sat on the couch opposite him. Through his sobs, I heard him say, “I need to do confession with you. I need to confess that I am a failure.”
I was surprised because my friend was the definition of “non-anxious presence.” He was always calm, and he seemed to be in control of his emotions. So I asked him, “What’s wrong?” All he could say was, “I’m a failure and a fraud.”
I pressed the issue and said, “I’ll do confession with you, but you’re going to talk to me first.” He experienced what he termed a “moral failure.” (That term is quite elusive because it begs the question of who creates the moral in the first place? And why did your deity force you to agree to it? Anyway, that’s another post for another time…)
As my friend cried, I realized the problem.
He was so immeshed with the priestly persona that he was utterly undifferentiated from it. The mask consumed him.
He worked so hard to become Obi-Wan and when he failed he fell into existential crisis. His priestly persona only gave him room for a one-dimensional life.
After confession, I told him, “Brother, you are not defined by one small problem. You are not perfect; you will never be perfect. Now, forgive the god you thought you worshiped who judged you harshly and forgive that god’s people for forcing you into this mask. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”
Any spirituality that does not begin with mercy is not spirituality at all. A spirituality that begins and ends with “accountability” is just another telling of the mythology of The Man in the Iron Mask.
It’s important to note, the mask is not merely one archetypal persona.
It can be many. I’ve worn so many masks at times that I had no clue who I was beneath them all. The most attractive ones for clergy are The caregiver, the wounded child who seeks to please the father figure, the sage (previously discussed), the magician, and the hero.
This is not merely a spiritual approach to the ministry, but it also connects to all aspects of life, including relationships as well. I’ve watched spouses struggle because of a projected mask on their husband/wife, who is the pastor. I’ve sat with people in counseling sessions who never could please another person because the person held them to a one-dimensional ideal or forced them into a simplistic role.
The solution is to embrace a spirituality of compassion!
When we embrace compassion as a worldview, we allow others to be who they are. When we accept someone for who they are, flaws, complexities, and all, we can greet the real person with compassion. It takes awareness, mindfulness, and a lot of mercy to offer others the freedom to be themselves. If we are willing to accept that journey, then our souls can find independence and liberation.
I hint at this in my poem “Destiny.” Give it a read and tell me what you think.
The true self is not merely the “me.” It is the “me” that is permeated by the divine. We do not have to be afraid of our complex parts or the complexities in others, especially our priests and ministers. A compassionate spiritual approach encourages us to welcome all parts of the self but not to be defined by them. Jung saw conflicting feelings and experiences in the human psyche as a necessity for growth. When we engage the personas we place on ourselves and others; we allow the internal conflict to mold us into compassionate and loving people. And that is the goal of the spiritual life.
Compassion and mercy are the transformation agents to loving rightly and growing spiritually.
Peace, R+
Posted by Rian Adams
The Will of God: Jesus, Demons, and Family Drama
by The Rev. Rian Adams
“But how do I know the will of God?” The woman was extremely distraught. She had to choose between two equally appealing options and genuinely didn’t know what to do. The church where she grew up drilled a certain theology into her that served as a handicap. That theology goes something like this: If you mess up and miss the will of God, it can ruin your life.
She meant well, the church who taught her to live in fear probably meant well too. Her heart was certainly in the right place, and she simply wanted to please God. But I think the problem, and thus the agent of her suffering, was a misunderstanding of what “God’s will” means.
This Gospel passage from Mark touches on the subject and ties it to a theology and psychology of freedom. Initially this passage appears to be two sections. First we have a section on Jesus and resistance to his ministry of freeing the demon possessed. Second we have a section on Jesus’ mother and brothers and some family drama.
Although they first appear unconnected, I think they are purposefully connected by the Gospel writer. A main theme is freedom and the will of God. As you read it, you will see it.
The Lectionary Gospel, Mark 3:20-35. Proper 5, Year B.
Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat. When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, “He is out of his mind.” And the teachers of the law who came down from Jerusalem said, “He is possessed by Beelzebul! By the prince of demons he is driving out demons.”
So Jesus called them over to him and began to speak to them in parables:“How can Satan drive out Satan? 24 If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand. 26 And if Satan opposes himself and is divided, he cannot stand; his end has come. In fact, no one can enter a strong man’s house without first tying him up. Then he can plunder the strong man’s house. Truly I tell you, people can be forgiven all their sins and every slander they utter, but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; they are guilty of an eternal sin.” He said this because they were saying, “He has an impure spirit.”
Then Jesus’ mother and brothers arrived. Standing outside, they sent someone in to call him. A crowd was sitting around him, and they told him, “Your mother and brothers are outside looking for you.” “Who are my mother and my brothers?” he asked. Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”
Demons and how to understand them
The story begins with opposition to Jesus casting out demons. Obviously debates have raged from the earliest days of the church on how we should understand demons. I think the most important thing is to recognize that demons were forces that controlled people. I think this applies psychospiritually.
Jesus made conscious the things that were controlling others. This is what brought about such criticism from religious leaders. They claimed that he was shining the light on the wrong day.
Apparently there is a wrong time to heal human suffering…
That seems to be an absurd idea but we shouldn’t be too quick to judge. The church has been guilty of this crime too. We have created wounds in the name of rules and righteousness when compassion and love would have healed them.
However, I like to think about demons in a spiritual light. Here Carl Jung proves helpful. He says, “…the psychic conditions which breed demons are as actively at work as ever. The demons have not really disappeared but have merely taken on another form: they have become unconscious psychic forces.”
In Jung’s thinking the demonic is an inside force of negativity and criticism (of self and others). This criticism often takes control of us and consumes us with anger and questions of “what if…”
No matter how we choose to understand demons, Jesus sets people free from them. In my thought Christ makes the unconscious conscious. And that will usually meet religious resistance.
Dementors flee in the Harry Potter books when the light shines from a wand. The same goes for us. When we shine the light and make seen the unconscious in ourselves, our “demons” are then exposed. We are able to overcome them when we make them known.
Family Drama
The second part of the story is about family drama. Who’s not familiar with that? Well, at least it seems like some mother son drama at first.
The story says that Jesus, like so many of us, ran into some family issues when he began shining the light onto the unconscious. It shows that the Holy Family wasn’t perfect either.
This seems to coincide with the above section because both show how people misunderstand the ministry of Jesus. First it’s religious leaders, second, it’s those closest to Jesus – his family.
If James Hillman is correct, the human psyche is “polytheistic.” For Hillman this means that the psyche consists of many different parts. Religion often suppresses certain parts of the psyche (or the soul) in the name of righteousness or goodness. I’ve witnessed this first hand with religious rules and socially accepted standards of behavior.
The family system where we grow up can also suppress pieces of the psyche. I once knew a woman whose father physically beat her and she had a hard time standing up to men. Another story we know all too well of the man who can’t function in life because his mother waited on him hand and foot. Thus, he’s rendered useless in a relationship because women, in his psyche, exist for service and not much more. The list can go on and on… Family has a way of imprinting its values early in life. When we resist the values and standards (especially spiritually) it can cause conflict.
The point is that families often instill handicaps to parts of the self. It’s important to remember that Jesus is not being rude to his mother. On the contrary, he is confronting a family system.
I think resistance in multiple areas of the self is expected when we evolve spiritually. As the German psychiatrist Fritz Kunkel says, “Creation continues. It’s not finished yet because we are still evolving.”
The Will of God
The crux of the lectionary Gospel comes down to the final verse. Jesus said “Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister.”
The message seems clear… those who accept the naming and subsequent healing of unconsciousness are those in the family of God. Said another way, Jesus denounces the tribal family and replaces it with a family of the Spirit.
Jesus fundamentally redefined sabbath and tied it to a spirituality of loving people enough to heal them regardless of religious circumstances. That is the will of God… those in need freedom from whatever binds them. The will of God is not about asking God what grocery store will give us the best deal on steak this week. The will of God is Good News… mercy, love, hope, and compassion. And that Good News isn’t bound by a certain day of the week, or a particular Christian denomination.
My poem Flight is attached below, I hope it can be helpful. Also, if you’d like to read more of my poetry, click here.
Peace,
Rian+
Memorial Day: The Conflicting Feelings of a Combat Officer
By Rian Adams
Another Memorial Day is here…. I find myself conflicted as usual. On one
hand, I’m very thankful to be counted among the living today. It could have easily gone the other way.
I’ll confess that I didn’t sleep last night. I’m well aware of the reason. I remember my friends.
This morning I made espresso and took medicine that prevents me from dying of seizures. Thanks, Afghanistan, eye roll. I don’t want to take this medicine because it often robs me of an appetite. Then my shoulder tells me I was injured. It also tells me that I had 3 CCs of steroid injected a couple of days ago. My back reminds me of a spinal fusion, I take four Advil liquid caps to take the edge off. My ankle says “Hey, remember me, I could use some of that Advil too.” These scars testify to a journey few are expected to make.
Yet through all the physical pain, I have a sense of gratefulness. I’m thankful to be here, I’m thankful to be alive. I’m certainly glad that I can say “I love you” to the ones who are important to me.
I have friends who will never again tell their wives or kids how special they are. Some of their numbers are still saved in my phone because I can’t bring myself to delete them… it would be as if they died all over again.
To those brave men and women who gave up everything, I say this: Thank you for teaching me what love is.
Greater Love
Jesus said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
I once sarcastically remarked that the military taught me more about love than the church. I’ve watched friends die for each other in combat, often holding hands in a hospital.
I haven’t watched very many people sacrifice themselves – in the way of Jesus – to save their friends in church. As one professor remarked to me recently, “You mostly watch the wagons circle the institution to protect it.”
That’s probably accurate, but I refuse to accept that answer. Call me arrogant, naive, or a host of other words… I’ve been called worse, trust me. Yet I’m silly enough to believe that if military members can give their lives for others, Christians can too.
In this way, my service as a military officer taught me what we should expect from a church: sacrifice, love, and mercy. Hold my hand when parts of me die!
On the one hand, I’m thankful, on the other I’m frustrated.
Some of my friends, veterans, are quick to be rude and obnoxious when people say “happy Memorial Day.” Instead of absorbing pain they tend, rather, to feel the need be social police. Sure, they make a valid point that Memorial Day is more than a three day weekend. They are also right that “happy Memorial Day” is not correct.
But when I’ve checked my phone today to noticed texts saying “happy Memorial Day,” I’ve just replied, “thank you.” Sometimes it’s important to lay down your own life (and the incessant need to be right about everything) for the sake of saying “Thank you” or “I love you.”
However, there is something deeper at work. My belief is that Memorial Day is about absorbing pain and transforming it into love.
The opportunity that combat veterans have is quite profound. If we are willing to shoulder the weight of being the 1%, then we can live, and then die, with the dignity worthy of our friends who did not come home.
When we choose to love, we understand the true message of military service.
My first Command Sergeant Major in the Army stood next to me at a re-enlistment ceremony (which always took place in the Battalion memorial) and said, “Father Adams, the Army has saved more souls than the church.”
I replied, “I can’t say for sure Sergeant Major, but what I can tell you is that love for the guy in the fox hole next to you is a central message of Jesus.”
I’ve learned, much like the Trojan War, that one does not have to agree with the political reasons for war to love the person who stands next to you.
I’ve written a poem about my feelings. It’s below. And with that, I think it’s time to get rid of some stress in the gym.
To my friends who didn’t make it back: I love you… more every day.
Peace,
R+
