

About the book: In his most significant book to date, Dr. Larry Crabb expands on his lifelong work in the field of psychotherapy to adopt a groundbreaking, but biblical, approach to healing the deep wounds of the soul-an approach that centers around building intimate, healing mini-communities in our lives and churches.
Dr. Crabb envisions a day when communities of God’s people-ordinary Christians whose lives connect as husband to wife, brother to sister, friend to friend-will accomplish most of the healing that we now depend on mental health professionals to provide. God has deposited within us the power to heal soul-disease and that power is released to do its work as we relate to each other in revolutionary new ways. In challenging, practical language, Dr. Crabb shows us how.
Order the book here: https://store.largerstory.com/products/connecting-healing-for-ourselves-and-our-relationships
1. Intentionally listen to another, not to be helpful but seeking an opportunity to create space for the Spirit to do the deep work that only He can do. How arrogant is it to think that I can go deep without the Spirit’s help/input.
2. Listen with dependent hope, embracing the truth that only God’s Spirit can move this person towards experiencing God by expressing God.
3. Listen with curiosity, with theology-directed questions (related to the story) that release the other to wonder about themselves within categories of understanding.
4. Listen for an opportunity to wonder together about a vision of how the other person could relate with another person’s spiritual well-being in mind. When someone starts seeing that, the knot in the soul is loosening into tangled threads. Those tangled threads open the mind and soul to new directions, to consider directions never considered before.
5. Listen for the faint music in the person’s soul that releases the rhythm of the new heart. When you hear the music, you try to put words to the music.
If they say: “This will be hard,” you may want to ask: “Can we add a comma there, and see if there’s something else? Can it be hard and hopeful, or hard and something else?”
But you need to prepare them that it’ll get tough. The narrow road narrows. Put words to the pull of the Spirit, and anticipate the obstacles.
-Dr. Larry Crabb November. 2014
by Seth Gatchell
With God and with others, made for deep connection,
Both the longing to give and receive rich affection.
But when ugly self starts to demand its own way,
Connections will fracture; there will be hell to pay.
Connections can deepen when mercy’s a factor,
‘Tho weaknesses galore, far less of a matter.
At the foot of the cross everyone is equal,
Just wait until heaven, Oh what a grand sequel!
And shoulder to shoulder, let us together serve,
For Him and for others, resolutely not swerve.
Fellow soldiers are we, this fight against evil,
All the misery caused by ills of the devil.
This love celebrated is from divinity,
Let us reflect that love of sacred Trinity!
Life-giving love of God, like an underground spring,
Sloshing living water, and new life it will bring!
by Seth Gatchell
I think I “heard” God’s voice, though not His voice, per se.
“I’m glad that you are here. That’s true for you, alway!
Will you believe that’s true? It can anchor your soul.”
Something strengthened inside, drawn, yearns to be made whole.
Is the voice of God heard sometimes through a dear friend?
The whispers of God’s truth, faintly heard? Hearts to mend?
A sister’s thoughtful words pierces my heart’s hard crust,
Stirring thirst to please Him, and anchors me in trust.
Do the eyes of Jesus, look at me through your eyes?
Is that His care I see, power to break shame’s lies?
Is that His smile at me, the smile that’s on your face?
Can His smile through you break my shame? My guilt? Disgrace?
Does God’s Holy Spirit comfort me through your touch?
Does a friend’s robust hug galvanize me as such?
When someone is with me, a hand on my shoulders
Is that Your presence which helps me face my boulders?
Is God’s delight for you seen in my countenance?
Could my attentive glance give your heart sustenance?
If I had been with you, would someone know He came?
Let God be on display through me who bears His name!
Easy to love others when things are smooth and “right,”
But when in trials and pain, you’re in for a hard fight.
Self-centered? Justified? “Love pays this heavy price?”
Reflecting Jesus’ cross, in pain and sacrifice.
Professional journals are not on my preferred reading list. Too often the articles on counseling reinforce the notion that the best counseling is the most technically informed. Research studies, complete with baffling statistics and implications for further study, give the false impression that quality relationship has little to do with successful outcome. The effect is to remind churches and mere pastoral counselors that the help they provide is not terribly substantial, that power to heal depends mostly on professional education.
Imagine my surprise when I read the October 1996 issue of American Psychologist that reviewed what 50 years of research in psychotherapy has “proven.” One writer, a prestigious leader in the field, said, “All the research allows us to draw only one firm conclusion: It is a good idea for people with problems to talk to someone they trust.”
When asked about the value of professional training, the writer suggested that graduate education in counseling achieves three things: (1) It increases the likelihood that counselors will be ethical. (2) It helps make them less defensive. (3) It encourages the development of more kindness and empathy in their efforts to help. No mention of technical knowledge. The journal seemed to acknowledge that relational issues have more to do with meaningful help than a mastery of theory or skills.
With the beginning of the idea of psychotherapy in 1895, western culture bought into an assumption that, in some circles, is now being questioned. We assumed that personal, nonmedically caused problems fell into two categories: (1) routine or normal and (2) serious or abnormal. Routine problems, such as temporary bouts with discouragement, could usually be resolved by encouragement from friends, a fun night out, or tackling avoided tasks or responsibilities. Serious problems–those springing from deep-seated emotional roots and labeled psychopathological–were not easily resolved.
The church fell in line with this thinking. Its mandate was reduced to the task of helping normal people cope with life and mature in their spiritual commitment. Serious problems were thought to involve difficulties that required more than what Christianity had to offer. Some within the church have reacted against this conformity to worldly thinking by insisting, correctly but without careful thought, that the Bible has all the answers. They then reduce everyone’s problems to categories the Bible addresses directly. Neither option seems entirely correct. The result is a simplistic understanding of emotional suffering.
Maybe it’s time to consider a distinctly nonmodern idea. Could it be that words like pathology, psychological disorder,and treatment for diagnosed illness, when applied to counseling, have led us away from an important truth? Perhaps people with eating disorders, anxiety problems, and relational difficulties are in fact struggling with “soul trouble” and need what the church has been called to provide–soul care. And maybe the powerful ingredient in soul care is discerning involvement, an encounter with an individual that reflects Christ’s profound acceptance of us, even at our ugliest, and a biblically controlled understanding of what the real issues are.
The advent of managed care is especially problematic for professional counselors. Insurance providers give therapists perhaps five sessions to fix a depression or treat an anxiety disorder. The assumption is that many disorders are treatable by a specific technique, much like a physician eliminates infection with a 2-week dose of antibiotic. Counselors who believe that the quality of relationship they offer heals by penetrating into the lonely, stubborn recesses of a troubled soul are actively prevented from honoring that conviction.
When I began my professional career more than 25 years ago, I chose a slogan to appear on all my business cards and brochures: Meeting Counseling Needs Through the Local Church. The simple idea expressed in that slogan is more culturally critical today than ever before. Christian community is a place where time limits do not apply, where technique is not valued over relationship, and where the character of the helping person is more important than his or her credentials.
For too long the church has been seen as a place where problems are handled by sermons, social times, a few Bible verses, and prayer. Those who don’t respond to this regime are either farmed out to therapists or pressured into pretending that things are better than they are. We think wrongly about what it means to go to church. For most westerners, going to church means attending a worship service and getting involved in one or more programs that meet their needs. The idea of assembling together to consider how to encourage one another to love and good deeds has fallen on hard times.
The church must meet the challenge to recover its mandate to maintain a true gospel community. Christian leaders need to dialogue and answer the question: What does it mean to accept each other the way Christ accepts us, to proclaim our message with the energy of Christ working powerfully in us, to struggle for others with labor pains till Christ is formed in them?
I see an unprecedented opportunity standing within reach of the church–to become healing communities where the gospel, the only real power for good available to the world, is released in all its dynamic splendor to touch lives. Secularists, disenchanted with postmodernism and its empty promise of technology to improve the quality of our lives, are open to words such as spirituality and soul and are leading the way toward valuing the impact of community.
But without the gospel, they cannot realize their dreams. And we Christians, with the gospel, dare not fall short.
The battle for community is fought at two levels: (1) in small groups where a few people seriously pursue a vision for connecting (cf. Ephesians 4:16), and (2) in the larger church structure, where pastoral leaders must decide to place community at the very center of all they do.
Each level has its own challenges. Getting along with people we’re not drawn to and people we really don’t like is one of many challenges at the first level. At the second level, the entire church body will encounter equally tough challenges when it determines to assign the highest priority to developing meaningful community. Many pastors and elders will have to venture into the unfamiliar world of shepherding.
Many Americans are looking to small groups for help in coping with life. They want community, and Christians must recapture the centrality of community in God’s big plan.
I heard Dr. James Houston, professor of spiritual theology at Regent College in Vancouver, make this profound statement: “If the church is to realize its potential, it must recover the doctrine of the Trinity and its implications for human community.” The way the three persons of the Godhead get along is the pattern for true community. And to the degree we relate in similar fashion, the deepest matters of our souls will be powerfully addressed.
I have a vision–simple to state, not so simple to realize–of Christians coming together in communities of shepherds and friends. We must not fall into the trap of “big-event Christianity”–rallies, crusades, and huge church services–where events that do not involve the richest form of community substitute for gatherings that do.
Community-centered Christianity must be recovered, and true community must be defined as something that cannot occur apart from the gospel. We cannot experience the power to see good in a fellow believer even when no good is visible, the power to detach from our own concerns and care more about someone else, or the power to believe every hardship of life is part of a wonderful plan to create Trinitarian-like community without drawing deeply from resources found only in the gospel.
Christian counselors need to see themselves as partners in community, not as providers of opportunity to retreat from it. And we must all ask ourselves: What would happen if we connect deeply to one another and help each other connect more meaningfully to God and to the elements in our lives that we fear?
As we approach the end of the century, the challenge faces the church to envision true community and move toward it. Let us be encouraged to accept the challenge by reflecting on two truths: (1) Jesus died so we could have fellowship with the Father, with the Son, through the Holy Spirit, and with fellow believers. He died so we could enjoy relationship. (2) Problems people experience–those that our culture calls psychological difficulties that require professional treatment–are mainly the product of disconnection, of life outside community. As the church recovers true community, the healing power of the gospel will be seen in ways we cannot imagine.
Originally published in the Enrichment Journal in January 1998.
by Jason Kanz
Larger Story’s book of the month is Becoming a True Spiritual Community, my favorite Larry Crabb book and the one I have probably read most often. His honest wrestling was one of my favorite things about Larry. In BTSC, he wrestled with what genuine spiritual connection looks like.
One of the traits I share with Larry is that of a restless spirit. He was rarely satisfied with accepting the status quo when it came to Christianity, a truism that resounds through his books. He pressed into his challenging questions, always from a desire to know the true God more completely.
I, too, have wrestled for a long time with seeking to know God better. The battle has intensified in the last few years. I am dissatisfied with the church in America. If I am honest, I don’t want to go to “church.” In many cases, we Christians don’t represent Jesus very well. I have no doubt some consider me a bitter cynic, maybe even an apostate. You may be right. God knows.
Here’s the thing: We talk about the importance of church attendance, but can we honestly say that our church rhythms model those things that Jesus valued? We gather in groups of tens or hundreds or thousands, all facing forward to listen to an “expert” in the Bible tell us what we need to know, which leaves little room to listen for God’s Spirit or share what is happening in us. Numbers of bodies, volunteer hours, and dollars determine success. Nevertheless, not a week goes by without another story of how some pastor or religious group has abused power.
I long for something more profound, but I find myself in the unfamiliar place of not knowing precisely how to put words to my longings. Still, here are some fragments:
I want to gather with people who are trying to understand and live an integrated life. A few years ago, I was involved in a weekly “integration” meeting. People from multiple backgrounds would gather for lunch and have lively conversations that mattered. Sadly, they are no longer scheduled when I can attend, and it is a considerable loss. I want to hear from people who think as I do and those who do not about how we live in a world that feels increasingly fragmented. What does it mean to live whole and holy lives?
I want to know and be known by the God of steadfast love, the one who is reconciling all broken things. I want to hear from others how they experience God and to know where they meet God. I want to share my doubt and confusion with others who are willing to share in return. I am not interested in neatly packaged answers but in acknowledging that the world is a muddled mess and that God is still bigger.
I want a community that fosters self-awareness, self-acceptance, and self-compassion. Too often, well-meaning Christians reject these ideas, but healthy spirituality does not neglect loving ourselves. I want to be reminded that there is a God who loves me “without condition or reservation,” as Brennan Manning would say.
I want a community that practices love for others, especially those who are often on the fringes or even outside neatly labeled biblical boxes. I want them to know, as I want myself to know, that God loves them and to demonstrate that truth not only in word but in deed. I long for a place of radical welcome and acceptance. I want to feast around a table where people of different worldviews and mindsets aren’t trying to fix or convert one another but celebrate their shared humanity and belovedness.
I want to honor and celebrate all of God’s good creation, to look for and celebrate beauty and goodness wherever it may be found: in late-blooming flowers and early falling leaves, in gently falling snow and torrential rains, in the warmth of the sun in a blue sky and the cool of a cloudless night. God called creation very good, but sometimes I think we’ve lost sight of that truth. God invited us to be creation’s caretakers, but we have instead abused it for our own ends.
I long for wholeness. I desire goodness, truth, and beauty. I want to honor each person’s unique journey and remember that we, the human race, are traveling together, and every one of us brings something needed by the whole group. I long for fellowship with those who long for integration, wholeness, and reconciliation.
Is that too much to ask?