PRAYER AND MENTAL HEALING
By the Bishop of Bloemfontein
This paper is concerned with Mental Healing; its object is to suggest, in a tentative way, how Mental Healing may be effected by Mental Prayer. But, in order to do this, it is necessary (at the risk of repeating what may have been written by others) to refer to certain premises leading up to the conclusion which I wish to draw.
(1) In the first place it is coming to be recognised that ‘consciousness’ must be understood in a far wider and more general sense than we have been accustomed to associate with it. Alongside of the active work of the intellect with which, e.g., we study mathematics or pursue our profession, there is a large, dreamy, half-conscious tract of mind, not sharpened to a single point, like the active intellect, but consisting in a multiplicity of mind-centres (mental ganglia, as we might call them) diffused throughout the body. We knew before that our body was a microcosm or an epitome of the world in which it wasfound, and now we are learning that the same is true of our minds. Primitive kinds of consciousness have been carried up with us in our ascent from lower grades of being, and survive, dormant but real, over against the intellect which is the palmary achievement of our race. This residual consciousness (the consciousness which exists outside of the rational intellect) consists largely of instincts and capacities which regulate the lives of other animals, and which were employed by man in his primitive state, but for which he has no use in his present-day existence; modes of receptivity and reaction, which were natural to him in his dreamy childhood, but which are discarded by him in the aggressive, self-assertive, wide-awake condition in which he now lives. Mr. Myers, in his ‘Human Personality,’ gives a very attractive and convincing account of this inheritance from our ‘lowly ancestors.’ But probably we have to go deeper still to account for parts of the consciousness which we thus inherit. The rooted attachment to home, and the blind tenacity with which, in the teeth of reason, men cling to life, exhibit a more primitive mode of consciousness than that of animal life. Here we will quote some very suggestive words of Professor Stewart:
‘Transcendental feeling I would explain genetically as an effect produced within consciousness by the persistence in us of that primeval condition from which we are sprung, when life was still as sound asleep as death, and there was no time yet. That we should fall for a while, now and then, from our waking, time-marking life, into the timeless slumber of this primeval life is easy to understand; for the principle solely operative in that primeval life is indeed the fundamental principle of our nature, being that “vegetative part of the soul” which made from the first, and still silently makes, the assumption on which our rational life of conduct and science rests—the assumption that life is worth living. When to the “vegetative” the “sensitive” soul is first added, the Imperative (Live thy Life) is obeyed by creatures which, experiencing only isolated feelings, and retaining no traces of them in memory, still live a timeless life, without sense of past or future, and consequently without sense of selfhood. Then, with memory, there comes, in the higher animals, some dim sense of a self dating back and prospecting forward. Time begins to be.’
This, then, is our starting point; that besides the single, supreme, rational activity, which we call intellect, there exist in us otherforms of consciousness similar to those which accompany the growth of the plant or the life of the animal; and that this residual consciousness, however much we may discard or disown it, continues to live and work, and does things which the proud intellect is unable to do. On the other hand, we must not forget that these forms of feeling and instinct, of perception and reaction, which we regard as our heritage from lower grades of life, are enormously modified by their juxtaposition with a rational intellect. The unity of nature which comprehends both the intellect and them, makes itself felt; this lower form of mentality is still the mentality of a rational being; and the general position may be described by saying that there exists a decentralised consciousness, diffused through the organism, ‘irrational, but capable of sharing in reason, and of listening to it,’ as Aristotle would say, and manifesting itself in a power of receiving impressions, manipulating them, and reacting upon them, which in our present state of ignorance we describe by the convenient word ‘abnormal.’
(2) Because the residual consciousness is thus diffused throughout the body, it can exercise control over the various parts of the body, just as the central intellect exercises control over the body as a whole. As thereason can set the body in motion by commands issued through the brain and travelling down the motor nerves, so the departmental consciousness can initiate changes and disturbances in the various nerve centres with which it is associated. This, we take it, is what happens in all cases of mental healing. The phenomenon is physical as well as psychical; it consists not merely in the inhibition of the feeling of pain, but in such a modification of the nerve tissues as removes the cause of the pain. A real cure is effected, and it is effected by the action of the residual consciousness upon that particular part of the organism.
(3) This decentralised, residual consciousness can work best when the rational intellect is quiescent—when, we may say, the central office is closed. At such times man ceases for the time to be an argumentative, striving creature; the placid, vegetative, ruminative life, the life of growth and instinct, asserts itself; submerged modes of consciousness begin to stir and act, like fairies dancing when the sun has set.
And as sleep is the typically quiescent state, it will be specially in sleep, natural or induced, that these lower modes of consciousness will exhibit their activity.
(4) In order that they may act, a ‘cue’ or suggestion of some sort must be given tothem. The most marked characteristic of this residual consciousness is its receptivity. It executes, but cannot originate. It can retain in the memory the whole of a long poem which it has heard, and it can solve a problem by right adjustment of its elements; but in each case the facts must be given to it in order that it may deal with them. In itself it is dreamy and desultory; if it is to work efficiently, it must be stimulated and concentrated by the transmission to it of a clear and forcible suggestion.
(5) On the other hand, although it must take its orders from the reason, it is only natural that one residual consciousness should be moreen rapport, feel more at home, with another residual consciousness. The reason is like a parent or schoolmaster, and these consciousnesses are like children. They receive their directions from above, but are far more at home with each other, canvassing their instructions, and sometimes parodying and making fun of them, as children do with the admonitions of their elders. In matter of fact there is often something freakish and elfish about this consciousness, it reminds one of the submerged spirit of Dionysus reasserting itself in Denys l’Auxerrois as described by Mr. Pater.
(6) Now, if one residual consciousness can be brought into a relationship of definite and serious purpose with another residual consciousness, the influence thus exerted will be stronger than any which can be exerted directly by the reason itself. To revert to our former illustrations, a monitor whose own character is receptive of the master’s ideals can exert on other children an influence greater than that of the master himself.
(7) The reason of man, then, may be well able to convey clear instructions to his own residual consciousness, and send it to associate with, and work upon, some other residual consciousness. And if the instructions conveyed, and the work done, concern the curing of some ailment, a case of mental healing will be the result.
Let A be the healer and B the patient; letaandbrepresent the residual consciousness of each of them; further, let A1be the rational intellect of A, and B2the seat of B’s disease. In that case the following diagram will illustrate the process:
That is, A concentrates his intellect (A1) on transmitting a message to his own submerged consciousness (a); this submerged consciousness works upon B’s submerged consciousness and stimulates it to curative action on the seat of B’s disease. Further, the best time forato thus work uponbwill be when A and B are both asleep. A will have concentrated the reason on the idea of helping B just before going to sleep. Mr. Hudson, in his ‘Psychic Phenomena,’ gives many illustrations of cures thus effected.
(8) But the capacity of A to exert a strong and right influence must depend on the strength of his will and the clearness of his insight; and if he is a humble man, he will recognise his own weakness and ignorance. In proportion, then, to his affection for B, he wants to bring to bear on B a stronger force and a higher wisdom than his own. A few exceptionally strong and wise people may bring help, of themselves, to their friends in the manner described in the last section; but the majority, being conscious of their own limitations, will turn elsewhere for succour, i.e. will pray.
(9) In very many cases prayer is a definite petition to God, that God will Himself act directly on our friend by bestowing a definiteblessing on him, e.g. recovery from a specific ailment. But that is not quite the highest or the best kind of prayer. God loves to act through us; Christ sends out his disciples, that through them He may continue to do His gracious works. We can combine a humble reliance on God with the offer of ourselves as His instruments, if our prayer conforms to that Prayer of Quiet or Silence of which mystical writers tell us. Then, instead of ourselves acting directly on our friend, and instead of asking God to act directly upon him, we shall just concentrate our attention upon God with special intention for our friend. We shall hope that a Divine response from God will, during our sleep perhaps, enter our own subconscious self (which we have, through the concentration of our attention, made receptive of such responses) and through us work upon that of our friend. In such a case the diagram will be as follows:
We may add that this Prayer of Silence not only renders us receptive of Divine influences, which may then through us be transmitted toour friend; also it embodies the true attitude of humility in relation to God. We know not what we should pray for as we ought. We are not to dictate to God what blessing He is to send. We simply bring our friend’s evil case before Him in the very act of our own loving concentration upon Him, and offer ourselves as the agents for the transmission of that blessing, whatever it may be, which He in His wisdom may will to send. By a strong act of sympathy we identify ourselves with our friend, and trust God to provide the right remedy. ‘Have mercy uponme,’ said the woman in the Gospel, ‘my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.’
If we can combine this living sympathy for our friend with a humble trust in God’s power and wisdom, and further offer ourselves as the instrument through which God may act, we shall be practising the highest and purest form of intercession within our reach. And this form of intercession may be offered in a silent act of Contemplation, in which distracting thoughts are set aside, the favourable attitude of receptivity is attained, and a loving and concentrated appeal is made to the love of God. It may, perhaps, encourage us to engage in this highest form of prayer, if we recognise that it has this intercessory side.An objection is sometimes brought against the practice of Contemplation as described by spiritual writers, on the ground that it is self-centred and selfish. There is never much force in such an objection, since the contemplative who is concentrating his soul on God is thereby making himself a ladder down which Angels of Grace descend on others as well as himself; he is diffusing an atmosphere of God’s presence, with the blessings that flow from it.
When, however, Contemplation is practised with definite intercessory intention, its beneficence is clearly and unmistakably emphasised.
(10) It is well to dwell a little more on the quality of humility which should characterise all such prayers. We have no right to dictate to God what His answer shall be. We have no right to assume that it must be His will to remove all pain and suffering. Any such assumption leads logically to conclusions which those who make it might not be prepared to accept. If pain and suffering are contrary to God’s will, and God is omnipotent, it follows that there can be no such thing as pain and suffering; and as pain and suffering are located in the body, it will further be concluded that there is no such thing as a body; and here at once we have Christian Science in a nutshell.
We may try to escape from this conclusion by distinguishing an absolute and a contingent will of God, and arguing that pain, as such, is contrary, but under certain circumstances is not contrary, to the will of God. But this really abandons the whole position, since we do not know whether the case of our friend is covered by the ‘certain circumstances’ or not, and therefore are unable to dogmatise as to God’s will in the matter. No one in his senses imagines that God wills pain for the sake of pain. Everyone would agree that, if sin had not come into the world, there would be no occasion for pain. But then sin has come into the world; the only condition of man with which we are acquainted is his fallen condition; in that fallen condition sin and suffering are mingled inextricably to a degree which utterly condemns dictation or dogmatism on our part. Ignorant people like ourselves must, then, be humble in our prayers. We bring our friend’s illness before God; ‘Lord, he whom Thou lovest is sick’; often God’s love may be shown in the removal of the suffering; sometimes in the provision of grace sufficient to enable the sufferer to rejoice in his infirmities.
(11) What has been said in this paper is liable to an easy and obvious criticism. Itwill be said that the whole thing consists of guesses; and further, that these guesses are incapable of scientific verification. I cheerfully accept both statements, and am not particularly affected by either. All increase of knowledge has been made through guesses, and in the case of an intricate subject like that before us, we must be content to go on guessing for a long time. Further, there may be verification which would not conform to the more rigorous methods, but which would be sufficient for practical purposes. If we find that such prayer as I have described is followed by relief, either physical or spiritual, to him for whom we pray; and if this sequence occurs again and again under different conditions, the cumulative weight of such experience will justify a humble belief that God is indeed using us as vehicles of His grace and love.
(12) Finally, I should like to add a few words as to the general attitude which, it seems to me, we should adopt with regard to facts of mental healing. I have assumed that we are face to face with certain psychical facts which for the first time are winning general recognition of their authenticity. That is, we are witnessing the birth and development of a special branch of psychology. Thewhole inquiry into the phenomena of the subconscious, or subliminal, or subjective, or residual consciousness (whatever we choose to call it) is a psychological inquiry. It is for the psychologist to investigate the relation in which such phenomena stand to the normal working of the mind; and it is for the psychologist and physiologist together to probe the method by which subconscious mentality affects the diseased tissue, and in many cases effects a cure. The facts are becoming patent to all; the causes are a subject matter for science. Where, then, does religion come in? I answer that whilst the forces at work are psychical, and the inquiry into their mode of operation is scientific, they can be best put in motion by religion.
Some such demarcation of spheres seems to me to be essential. It would be fatal to assume that all manifestation of subconscious activity is supernatural; that all mental healing is necessarily spiritual healing. The facts postulate neither a special spiritual gift, nor a special theory of the universe (such as that of Christian Science) to account for them. They are, we repeat, psychical facts, and come under the domain of psychology.
Further, as I have suggested above, religion is not the only motive power bywhich they can be roused to action. A rigorous process of attention and concentration of the mind, which has been rendered quiescent by the elimination of other thoughts and ideas, seems to be the condition under which the healer acts successfully; and such a process is not confined to the sphere of religion.
But, on the other hand, we Christians possess two great qualifications in this matter. First, in the higher forms of prayer we have ready to our hand a peculiarly effective method of concentration and attention; and, secondly, through the use of this method, we can link our own action with the action of God, correcting our ignorance by the wisdom of God, and supplementing our weakness by the power of God.
Note.—In this article I have dealt with healing as exercised on the ills of another, not on one’s own ills; and the prayer associated with such healing has therefore been presented as intercessory prayer. But of course the troubles which we have in view may be our own. In such a case the method will be much the same as that sketched above; relief may be effected subconsciously through the medium of prayer. But the procedure is now muchsimpler. Instead of sending out our subconsciousness (the phraseology is necessarily materialistic and fearfully inadequate) to work on that of another, we merely commission it to work on the seat of our own malady. The method now becomes one of auto-suggestion, i.e. the healing suggestion is made by us to ourselves. We know the power of this process in the moral sphere; we know how, by fixing our minds on lofty and ennobling ideas, we can break the power of temptation, not by a frontal attack, but by getting round it and above it to a higher level of life and thought. This, in fact, is the main purpose and effect of meditation as ordinarily practised. The scope of meditations only have to be slightly extended in order to apply to our physical as well as our moral troubles. But, although this method of healing becomes simpler in procedure, because applied to ourselves, yet for the same success it demands still greater humility and purity of intention. If, when we pray for others, it is hard for us to believe that the prayer may be really and effectually answered in other ways than by the removal of the physical suffering, it is still harder for us to recognise this in our own case. To meet this difficulty, it will be well that prayer for our own relief should be as much as possible silent prayer. We shallconcentrate our attention on God’s love and power, as revealed in Christ, just spread out our trouble before Him, and resolve to trust Him to the uttermost. The suggestion thus conveyed to our own subconscious life will be charged with God’s grace; if physical healing results, the restored health will be transformed by dedication to God’s service; if the relief takes the form of strength to endure, it will be none the less relief, lifting us above the level of self-pity into tranquil communion with Christ crucified, and may be none the less an instrument in God’s hands for the doing of His blessed will.
THE METAPHYSICS OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCEBYM. CARTA STURGE
THE METAPHYSICS OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCE
BYM. CARTA STURGE