Review: Mental Disorders and Spiritual Healing: Teachings from the Early

Christian East by Jean-Claude Larchet

A Review by Jennifer Doane Upton

[This review appeared in Vol. 12, No. 1 of Sophia: A Journal of Traditional

Studies]

Mental Disorders and Spiritual Healing presents the viewpoint on mental

disorders held by the early Church Fathers, and in so doing provides a fresh
“new” look at psychotherapy, as seen from the standpoint of a tradition which
knows the human being as composed of body, soul and Spirit, and gives
precedence to the Spirit. The author, Jean-Claude Larchet, is a practicing
psychiatrist as well as an Eastern Orthodox Christian.
As moderns, we commonly hold to psychological assumptions based on the
ideas of Freud, Jung, behaviorism etc., or on the belief that all consciousness is
derived from physical processes within the human brain. This book cuts through
many of these assumptions, which treat emotion and emotional energy as if they
could be dealt with without reference to morality or the basic disposition of the
will, and certainly without reference to the Spirit. For instance, Larchet posits the
union of soul and body, but does so in a far different manner than many modern
theorists. It is fashionable nowadays to say, in opposition to Cartesian dualism,
that “soul and body are one,” but many of our contemporaries who assert this do
not seem to have any clear idea that the soul exists in its own right. “By affirming
that a human is at once soul and body,” the author says, “they [the Fathers]
opposed every form of materialism and naturalism that denied the soul or
reduced it to being an epiphenomenon of the body, or something derived from
and determined by the body.”

According to Larchet, in the union of soul and body, the soul takes precedence
over the body; it is active, the body passive. He quotes St. Makarios as saying,
“The soul, which is a subtle body, has enveloped and clothed itself in the
members of our visible body, which is gross in substance.”

Mental Disorders and Spiritual Healing maintains that mental illness is from
three sources: the somatic (body), thepsychic (soul), and the spiritual. The
somatic level is related to our familiar idea of that mental illness is caused by
imbalances in brain chemistry and physiology, if not by actual physical trauma.
On the psychic level, mental illness is caused primarily by demonic influence,
though it is pointed out that demons are attracted to pre-existing psychic
dispositions. Mental illness resulting from the spiritual level is based on the
perversion of human free will—sin, in other words—though the author makes it
clear that the misuse of free will affects the other two levels as well, albeit not in
as central a manner
This places mental illnesses of a physical origin in a much different perspective
than that adopted by modern psychology. Larchet takes issue with our
assumption that medieval monks and the early Fathers posited demonic activity
only because they were ignorant of the physical causes of mental illness. He
quotes Gregory of Nyssa as maintaining that “We are aware that mental
aberrations do not arise from heaviness of head [drunkenness] alone, but skilled
physicians declare that our intellect is also weakened by the membranes that
underlie the sides affected by the disease, when they call the disease frenzy
[phrenitis], since the name given to those membranes is phrenes.” However,
Larchet points out that “In cases where an organic disorder is clear, the function
of the physician is. . . limited to the physiological level alone. [To affirm] that in
such cases the soul in its very nature is not harmed, and hence preserves its
autonomy, hampers the claim of a certain kind of medicine or psychiatry to take
charge of the human soul through the body and dictate to it its own ideas and
values. In cases where the origin of the disease is physical, it is only the soul’s
self-manifestation that is compromised; its essence is left intact.”
The author admits that it is often difficult to discern the true origin of mental
illnesses, given that they can have three distinct etiologies, and a major element
in this difficulty is the fact that appearances by their nature tend to lead us
astray. This is certainly true when the illness is of demonic origin, particularly
since our materialist assumptions do not even allow for this possibility. Larchet
says:

If ‘profane’ or ‘rational’ medicine chooses to ignore such a demonic etiology, it is

because it accepts phenomena as the only reality that can be objectively
considered. . . True, it is especially difficult to determine the presence of demonic
influence, to define its manner of acting or to gauge its importance. Such an
understanding escapes the eyes of the profane. Only those who have obtained
the charism of the discerning of spirits from God are capable of exercising this
spiritual discrimination.

This limitation of diagnostic skill to one possessing certain spiritual gifts posits an
authority higher than materiality and profane human knowledge. Clearly a
postmodern mindset resists accepting such authority. Consequently, in talking
about healing from the effects of demonic activity, Larchet is led into a discussion
the charism (sacrament) of Baptism. He says:
. . .the Christian, by the grace received in Baptism, is freed from the tyranny of
the enemy and always retains the power of opposing demonic activity.
According to St. Symeon the New Theologian, Baptism gives us ‘freedom no
longer to be held against our will in the devil’s tyranny,’ and ‘the enemy cannot
take any action against us unless we of our own will obey him.’

The author speaks of the appropriate treatment for mental illnesses of a psychic
nature as the product of a collaboration between the patient and the healer(s).
Thus, in addition to a reorientation of the will through prayer and fasting, which
the Fathers recommend, Larchet speaks of the spiritual intervention of the saints
as a powerful form of treatment. It might be objected that, if psychic illnesses are
partly based on the misuse of the will, and given that the will is free and that no-
one can will for another, it is up to the patient to reorient his will to the Spirit and
thus to heal himself. This would seem to deny any legitimate role to “outside”
spiritual intervention, such as the prayer of a saint or of the patient’s friends and
family. I would answer that in the case of possession, the door to the demonic
may have been opened by a misuse of the will, but by the time the possession
has really taken hold, the illness is beyond the control of the will. It is now the will
of the demon that must be subdued, and this can only be accomplished by
theurgic means, such as exorcism:

If the Fathers tried to have the possessed/insane participate as much as possible

in their own deliverance, it is because the individual must, if he is to be delivered
from demonic influence, turn his will from himself and orient it toward God. God,
in effect, does not grant healing unless it is asked of him, for he has granted man
free will and in all the cases respects his will and will not act against it. However,
the will of the individual is not always fully at his disposal. . .Those who are
disturbed in a significant way cannot even ask for their own healing or give
evidence of their faith. . .And yet it is possible for such individuals to be delivered
and healed thanks to the faith and the prayers of those around them or
accompanying them, as well as to those of the saint to whom they are entrusted.
But the power of the saint’s intercession is so much stronger when the faith of
those asking for the deliverance of the possessed is more ardent and their
prayers more fervent.

Spiritual illness has precisely to do with a perversion of the individual’s

relationship to God. According to Eastern Orthodox tradition, the Fall affected
both the Intellect and the will; consequently some spiritual illnesses (acedia in
particular; see below) repeat and accentuate the darkening of the mind resulting
from the Fall. According to the early Fathers, some (but not all) mental illnesses
actually derive from the spiritual level, though their effects nonetheless appear on
the level of the psyche per se:

Mental illnesses of spiritual origin should not be confused with the spiritual
illnesses themselves. Spiritual illnesses are formed by a disorder or perversion of
nature (more precisely of nature’s mode of existence) in the personal relationship
of the individual to God. On the psychic plane, mental illnesses correspond to
somatic disorders on the plane of the body; mental illness has to do with
difficulties in the psyche considered in itself, with a dysfunction of the psyche’s
nature considered within its natural order. . .From the point of view of Patristic
anthropology, such a distinction can only have a relative value, for nature can
never be considered in isolation and is fundamentally defined by its relationship
to God.
This is clearly not how we view mental illness in today’s world; and equally
foreign to the postmodern mindset is the idea expressed by the author that such
things as fear and sadness are actually passions. We can easily understand
anger and lust as passions, but it is harder for us to see fear and sadness as
such, because they show the passions to be essentially “passive,” whereas we
like to think of them as vital and dynamic. According to the Fathers, the passions
take control of our will and force us to passively act according to their agendas
instead of being true to ourselves. Thus the cure for them is action in its truest
sense. Pure act is to center in God —who, according to Aquinas, is Himself
“Pure Act.” The essence of pure action is prayer.

Not every passion gives even the appearance of an excess of vitality, such as
anger or lust seem to do. Larchet deals at some length with the more negative
passions of acedia and sadness. Sadness is a direct and conscious feeling of
loss, while acedia is more like a general deadening of all life; one has “lost the
taste for life.” (Since the author points out that some of the Fathers do not
distinguish between acedia and sadness, I will use the term acedia alone from
here on.)

Acedia is characterized by a deadness of the senses, and even more so by a

deadness of the feelings. A person afflicted by acedia has great difficulty in
finding any meaning in life. In a recent article entiled “A Requiem for Friendship”
[Touchstone: A Journal of Mere Christianity; September, 2005) Anthony Esolen
complains that the youth of today are no longer as alive and “youthful” as young
people once were; this could certainly be classed as a form of acedia. Acedia is a
passion that pervades the modern world. It lowers spiritual expectations and thus
draws people into an acceptance of hopeless materialism. It pervades every
aspect of life, and as such its origin is difficult to isolate. According to Larchet, it
is in the very nature of acedia that its victim should be relatively unconscious of it,
since it always produces a decrease in awareness, and even on occasion a
physical sleepiness. It is clear that the term acedia covers much of what we
would define today as depression.

Larchet maintains that acedia especially attacks hermits—those attempting to do

spiritual struggle in solitude—though he makes clear that those living the active
life are not exempt from it. If, as I believe, acedia is a particularly modern
malaise, it may because we moderns are emotionally isolated by our conditions,
whether or not we are spiritually struggling in a conscious way. Spiritual struggle,
according to Larchet, is the key to the healing of this condition, not really its
cause. The great temptation when confronting acedia is to distract oneself by
seeking novelty. Restlessnessis a major symptom of it—and who could be more
restless than modern man? A special case of this restlessness is dissatisfaction
with the place where one lives, which of course makes it difficult to establish
domestic roots and thereby overcome social isolation. Jungian psychologist
Marion Woodman, in a lecture given in the early 80’s, commented on the
tendency among many of her clients to spend their spare time in restaurants,
bars, coffee shops—anywhere but at home. Part of the reason for this behavior is
that such people are trying to heal their acedia through contact with others.
Larchet, however, maintains that this condition can only be healed through
solitary struggle. One must directly resist the tendency to sleepiness, lack of
awareness and loss of energy, not simply run from it.
Another result of acedia is our inability to value our homes, our habit of
considering them merely as places to “crash.” Many of our contemporaries who
groom themselves impeccably for the workplace allow their places of residence
to fall into disarray and even squalor. If we could live content within our homes,
we would be far less tempted to turn our houses into mere economic
commodities.

Mental Disorders and Spiritual Healing concludes with a chapter

on simulated mental illness: the tradition of the “Fool for Christ.” The Fool for
Christ is one who consciously takes folly upon himself for spiritual purposes. This
phenomenon seems to have largely disappeared from the Christian tradition in
our time, but it was of great importance in the early church, and this importance
certainly continued, in Russia, at least up to the time of the revolution (if not
later).

Anyone can be a saint, and this includes the illiterate, the simple and the
innocent—none of whom Larchet considers as Fools for Christ in the precise
sense of this term. The simplicity of such people is related to a poverty of
experience imposed by conditions. For example, the author does not consider
Dostoevsky’s character Prince Myshkin from The Idiot as a true Fool for Christ,
since Myshkin’s innocence is congenital, not adopted. The folly of the true Fool
for Christ, on the other hand, is consciously simulated:

He pretends to be a fool, has chosen to appear the fool, and does everything he
can to seem to be so in the eyes of others, so that he is really believed to be a
fool. He controls every act and word, precisely calculating their effect. For certain
individuals who have discovered his secret or he himself has chosen, he lays
aside this mask of foolishness, just as he does whenever he is alone, and
reveals himself to be perfectly sound of mind.

The Fool for Christ deals with the realm of appearance as precisely
that: appearance. Christians often squirm at what they consider to be the
“Eastern idea” that this world is in some respects illusory. But the Fool for Christ
acts within the world as if it were in fact an illusion—and how can any Christian
claim to believe that this world is real in the same sense that God is real, given
the otherworldliness of Christ Himself, whose “kingdom is not of this world”?
When Satan, “the Prince of This World,” is called “the father of lies,” this is a way
of indicating that the fallen world in which we live is not entirely what it seems—or
at least what it seems to us in our fallen condition. Eve, who precipitated the fall
of Mankind, brought about a darkening of the human intellect, while the
Theotokos, through her receptivity to the Holy Spirit, brought salvation to
mankind in the Incarnation of Jesus Christ —and this salvation entails
a metanoia, arenewing of the mind. But if our minds are to be renewed, we must
confront the illusions that dominate us, not run from them.

If, according to the Patristic dictum, “God became man that man might become
God,” we might say that the Fool for Christ becomes an illusion so that those in a
state of illusion might come to Reality. Clearly this is a vocation that one must be
called to, and one that should not be attempted without great spiritual maturity.
Larchet recounts an instance of spiritually advanced monk who was considering
taking on the responsibilities of a Fool for Christ, but was cautioned against this
by his spiritual director. After all, the world of illusion is by its very nature tricky
and deceitful, and to enter into this world is necessarily to take on some of this
quality of trickery, either consciously or unconsciously. There have been those
who have attempted to mimic insanity, who in so doing have lost their grip on
reality, and slipped into insanity itself.

Mental Disorders and Spiritual Healing clearly reveals dimensions of patristic

psychology that are not what most of us would have expected. It is a book that
should be of interest to people in many fields, laymen as well as professionals.
Its unique insights will be of benefit to anyone sincerely seeking a greater self-
knowledge—the sort of knowledge that is based on the true, but now largely
forgotten, stature of humanity.