The Psychology of Jesus

Part 5, Our Identity of Possession and Performance

If, as I described in the last post, Jesus possessed an eccentric, baptismal identity, what sort of identity do we have by way of contrast?

Since we face perpetual never enough problems, always dealing with basic and neurotic anxieties over having enough or being enough, we form identities of possession and performance.

In the face of basic death anxiety, where we worry about survival and resources, we attempt to own and possess some part of the world. Here's how Arthur McGill describes this dynamic:

What is the center, the real key, to sinful identity? It is the act of possession, the act of making oneself and the resources needed for oneself one's own. This act can be described with another term: domination. If I can hold onto myself as my own, as something I really possess and really control, then I am dominating myself. A sinful kind of identity surely requires aggression or appeasement; it requires defenses against others and against the threat of death as final dispossession. But fundamentally, a sinful kind of identity consists in the act of domination. I am because there is some section of reality which I own, which bears my name and I truly own it; it truly bears my name because I dominate it completely, because it is an instrument of my identity and my will...

Frankly, I think McGill overplays it a little bit here. To be sure, the thirst for possession does sit behind our desire for domination and domination leads to aggression. History is full of examples of how a desire for possession, an unquenchable and greedy thirst for more and more, led to conquest, exploitation, and environmental devastation. 

But many of our temptations here are smaller, more intimate, and domestic. For example, the American dream is to own a house and have a stable job with a decent salary that provides us with health insurance and a retirement plan. We think that if we own and possess these things that our basic anxiety about "having enough" will be satisfied. And true enough, such a life is much less precarious. And yet, does "making it" in regards to the American Dream finally and fully deal with our concerns over basic anxiety? The answer is no. For the simple reason that jobs can be lost, the stock market can crash, your health can decline. Yes, having insurance and some cash in savings can help during these seasons, but they cannot wholly protect you. As Kate Bowler says, there is no cure for being human. 

My point here is that, yes, the desire for possession has been associated with some of the worse evils in history. But there's also a delusional aspect here as well, the assumption that if I can get a pile of cash (in a health insurance and a retirement plan) between myself and death that I'll be protected. But I won't. Further, even if life is going well right now, financially speaking, this success is perpetually haunted by the possibility of loss. It's only one pink slip, economic downturn, or medical diagnosis away. In short, possession provides no final solution to basic death anxiety. 

Beyond possession, our identities are also driven by performance within our hero games to overcome a felt neurotic scarcity of not "being enough." 

Let's go back to work-related issues. A lot of us are burning out a work. Why? Some of this due to basic anxiety. If we're stuck in the gig economy, juggling a lot of part time jobs to make ends meet, well, that's stressful. But many of us have secure jobs and still find ourselves pushing and pushing. Basic anxiety is no longer an acute concern. We have enough. And yet, we keep trying to climb. What's driving this climb is the neurotic pursuit of self-esteem, our heroic vision of success. Our basic economic needs are being met, but we still want "more," but the "more" here has shifted into a neurotic register, a narcissistic thirst for status, recognition, adulation, influence, control, attention, esteem, and respect. 

And yet, just like with an identity rooted in possession, an identity dependent upon performance remains chronically vulnerable to setback and failure. You might not get that promotion. You might get stuck in a job that doesn't feel much like a career, calling, or vocation. You'll inevitably meet someone who is better at the thing you're so good at. If you're playing a neurotic hero game, you're always vulnerable to losing by way of achievement or social comparison. Real and potential failure will always haunt you.

The point of all this, to return to the psychology of Jesus, is that in receiving his identity as a gift Jesus doesn't form his identity around possession or performance. Where we remain perpetually vulnerable to basic and neurotic death anxiety, Jesus is emancipated from fear. Why? Because Jesus cannot lose. In not claiming ownership over anything, Jesus cannot be dispossessed. In not performing in any hero game, Jesus is immune to the shame of failure. 

This, then, is the key contrast between Jesus' identity and our own. We build our identities through possession and performance and thereby remain perpetually anxious. We think we can thwart the power of the devil by securing a pile of cash and winning our hero game. But all such attempts are anxious delusions. Jesus, by contrast, by receiving his identity as a gift, is emancipated from fear. In the Father Jesus receives everything he needs and desires. This frees Jesus from the fears that perpetually haunt our lives and is the critical psychological difference between his identity and ours.