When I began studying psychology as an undergrad at UCLA, people told me, “Don’t let psychology cause you to lose your faith.” I thought that was a silly thing to say, and after five years of psych classes, my faith was just fine, if not strengthened, by my knowledge of research related to the field. My classes focused less on the “self-help” portions of the profession that seem to eek their way into pop psychology, and more on analyzing and interpreting statistical data gleaned from past and present psychology-related research. We learned mostly about conditions that lend themselves to certain types of human and animal behavior. Cut and dry. It was fine.
Now that I am entering into the field of Occupational Therapy, though, I can see what people meant when they warned me not to let me classes change my faith.
This post should serve as an introduction to many issues that I am thinking through now that I have come to this certain realization. So here it is.
In practice, occupational therapists work with people who have encountered some sort of difficulty in their lives and then help them to get on their feet and get back to the activities that are meaningful to them in their everyday lives. In keeping with occupational therapy’s slogan, we help people “live life to the fullest.”
An inocuous description, right? Admirable, even.
So, what’s wrong with helping people? you may ask.
Nothing. It’s amazing. It’s challenging. It’s rewarding.
But here’s the thing I’m realizing. As a Christian, my object of worship is to be God, and God alone. And as a result of that worship, I am to love God. I am to love Him so much that it overflows onto others, and I can’t help but pour His love into their lives. He brings so much joy and meaning and satisfaction to my life, that I can’t help but share that with others so that they too can experience that joy and meaning and satisfaction. And all of that is because I worship God.
As a Christian, I find my life’s joy, meaning, and satisfaction in God.
As an occupational therapist, I am supposed to help others find their life’s joy, meaning, and satisfaction in occupations that are meaningful to them.
Do you see where I’m going with this?
Maybe this seems a little extreme. But if idolatry means that I am worshipping something other than God, and I am encouraging people to find their life’s meaning in something other than God, what does that make me?
I first realized this when I noticed how much we talked about occupation as the means and end of our type of therapeutic intervention. Occupation is everything. Without occupation, how are we any different than physical therapists or social workers or counselors? Occupation is what defines our profession, and as therapists, it is what we are always supposed to emphasize. We must eat, sleep, and breathe occupation. We must worship it.
Still seem extreme?
Of course, saying that we are supposed to “worship occupation” may be extreme, but is it really if you define what you worship as “the thing that holds the highest place in your life”?
And if I slip and begin to “worship” occupation – let it, or even the idea of it, hold the highest place in my life – how can I possibly do my job properly? Because as I said before, my ability to love others comes from my worship of God. And I can then help others because of my love for them. So take away my worship of God, and what do I have? An inability to properly love and care for others because it is not fueled by a love and devotion to God. Sure, maybe I can use the research and evidence behind the use of occupation in therapy to help people improve their ability to dress themselves or to get back to tending their garden that they love so much. But in the end, I have to be able to take a step back and reflect on the question, What exactly am I worshipping?
So the concept of occupation, if allowed to go unchecked, has the potential to do two things: 1) Become “God” in our clients’ lives, and 2) Replace “God” in my own life, thus detracting from my ability to really, truly love and help people in a way that is fueled by a supernatural love. A love which sees beyond people’s shortcomings and allows me to look for and encourage their potential. A love which is selfless and sacrificial, which considers the needs of others before my own. And aren’t those all qualities that make a good occupational therapist?
So for the sake of both myself and my future clients, I am finding that this is a critical time for me to stay grounded in scripture, to be immersed in accountability, and to be reminded of what it is that I truly worship. This is a time of discernment.
More thoughts to come.