Parents and those passionate about equipping the next generation for adulthood should read “Bad Therapy.” The book challenges many popular parenting assumptions, arguing that most children do not need more therapy but more of their parents parenting. As the book’s author, Abigail Shrier notes, children, “aren’t weak – unless you make them that way. They’re remarkably sturdy and naturally very strong (217).” In other words, today’s children need loving and yet strong parents.
Admittedly, I do not agree with the totality of Shrier’s argument. She does not reason from a Christian worldview. She encourages her readers to reconnect with their cultural heritage and the natural order, neglecting the importance of biblical instruction. For example, she reduces successful parenting to the following maximum: “That’s all a happy childhood is: experiencing all of the pains of adulthood, in smaller doses, so that they build up immunity to the poison of heartache and loss.”
She also somewhat ironically puts forward a few logical fallacies in chapter 2 as she seeks to show the nonsensical nature of our therapeutic culture.
Despite those concerns, the main thrust of her argument should be headed. Her diagnosis and even many of her solutions reflect the realities of nature and parallel biblical principles. Shrier argues that this generation’s excessive self-focus, willingness to allow teachers to playing therapist, endless talk of trauma, and embrace of gentle parenting, and other unproven therapeutic principles has produced a generation of confused, miserable, and angry children. The therapeutic culture has also left the “nice” and empathetic parents miserable and anxious because their kids “are frequently contemptuous of them (170).” Instead of listening to parenting experts (many of whom failed to recognize the danger of smartphones), Shrier encourages parents to lean into the parenting traditions of their communities and to firmly and lovingly…well parent. To quote Shrier,
“How do you know whether to put your thirteen-year-old in therapy? Simple: don’t take your kid to a shrink unless you’ve exhausted all other options…In all but the most serious cases, your child is much better off without them. In all but the direst of circumstances, your child will benefit immeasurably from knowing you are in charge – and that you don’t think there is something wrong with her (247).“
But don’t take my word for it, I encourage you to read her argument for yourself.
In The Sin of Empathy, Joe Rigney reveals that evangelism most prominent sacred cow is not an innocuous beast to be snuggled up to but rather a violent bull to be vanquished from evangelicalism. Without apology, Rigney pursues this sacred cow of empathy in a provocative manner. One needs only to read the book’s cover. That being said, readers passionate about the church and the health of evangelicalism should press beyond the kneejerk reactions of some reviewers and give Rigney’s argument a fair hearing.
The Danger of Untethered Empathy
When Rigney labels empathy a sin, he is not criticizing all expressions of empathy (or what he prefers to label compassion) but rather the most prevalent popular abuse of the term. Rigney candidly declares, “this book is not primarily interested in the “‘true definition of empathy, but rather its use and influence in our culture (5-6).”’ He is concerned with how men and women misuse the following definition of empathy: “feeling with people (6).” Again, Rigney sees some merit in the work of Brené Brown who introduced this idea of empathy to western culture. Rigney believes that the Scriptures call us not to apathy but to compassion…to weep with those who weep. Rigney writes, “Often the best immediate response to deep suffering is a simple and heartfelt acknowledgement that the pain is real and deep. Or perhaps no words at all, just presence (9).” As Rigney notes in Leadership and Emotional Sabotage, a companion volume to The Sin of Empathy, “Empathy or emotion-sharing, is in itself a good and natural thing (41).”
But Rigney also sees danger in what he calls “untethered empathy” or “untethered feeling,” understanding that “vices typically hide within virtues (122).” When men and women eliminate the boundary between the comforter and the sufferer to such a point that the sufferer’s feelings, inclinations, and desires trump the truths of Scripture, empathy becomes dangerous and deadly. Rigney offers the following illustration:
After we’ve climbed down into the pit with them [those swallowed by grief and distress], they demand that we agree there is no way out. They may even demand that we destroy the ladder we are offering them. And empathy, in its zeal to stay out of the judgment, is often willing to burn the ladder in the name of fueling connection (11-12).
Because of empathy, the evangelical church has become enamored with the approval of the urban and cultural left, has uncritically listened to the voices of “She-wolves.” Both actions have pushed evangelicals to water-down or to ignore essential biblical truth with increasing frequency over the last fifteen years or so.
Instead of heeding the progressive and “she-wolves” call to burn their ladders, Rigney encourages Christians going down into the hole to keep their ladders anchored to the truth of Scripture so that they both feel with and rescue the hurting. He calls Christians to have “their passions governed by what is true and good through the habitual exercise of trained emotions (103).” In other words, sober minded compassion consists of recognizing the sufferer’s hardship, acknowledging the sufferer’s feelings, identifying with the sufferer’s emotions, and finally offering spiritual truth to the sufferer. As Rigney concludes, “The ultimate goal of the emotional connection is to bring the sufferer to Christ so that he can comfort and heal them (104).”
A Few Criticisms
Though Rigney draws on his knowledge of C.S. Lewis’ essays and writings, Rigney makes little use of other theologians. He cites John Piper, Wayne Grudem, and a handful of other authors a time or two. He also fails to interact with the church fathers or the reformers on this topic. While Rigney aptly uses Lewis’ The Great Divorce to show his readers that one does not make demons out of mice or fleas but out of archangels, appeals to other interred theologians could have both strengthened his argument and expanded its appeal. The historical depth of his thought on this topic seemingly comes at the expense of his historical breadth.
Conversely, the fourth and fifth chapters of Rigney’s book designed to show “how professing Christians have used empathy, credibility, and respectability to sabotage the church over the last fifteen years or so (xix)” proved so broad that they lacked the citations needed to sway his critics. Admittedly, Rigney did encourage his readers wanting more information on the transformation within evangelicalism to read Megan Basham’s book Shepherds for Sale. But in so doing, he missed an opportunity to provide his readers with more evidence they would need to answer the critics of this book.
Moreover, such evidence does exist. A few years ago, many well-meaning pastors within my own denomination embraced reforms compiled by those who had been abused without stopping to compare those reforms and their outworkings to the text of Scripture. I knew one person who voted for the reforms though he opposed the counseling practices embedded in the reforms. He was persuaded by the emotion of the moment. After all, who wants to be against abuse.
When interviewing Rigney on his Thinking in Public podcast, Dr. Albert Mohler shared a similar experience. Mohler said he was once asked to address something not because it was true but because his audience felt it was true. I wish Rigney had made use of such evidence, especially given the provocative nature of his argument and the vitriol of his opponents.
Lastly while I applaud Rigney’s attempt to replace empathy with compassion as the latter term possesses the biblical foundation that empathy lacks, I also wish Rigney had added the adjective “untethered” to his thesis. This slight nuance would not only more accurately reflect his argument in this book as well as his argument in Leadership and Emotional Sabotage but also may have won him more readers. Seemingly some reviewers of his book have gotten no further than his title. They falsely accuse Rigney of having argued for apathy or for the removal of anything emotional or female from evangelicalism. I fear that some of those who would benefit most from this volume may never pick it up because they feel the title alone is enough to condemn it. We may all argue that it’s ridiculous to judge a book by its cover but the discussion around The Sin of Empathy seems to evidence that readers make this judgement far more than we might otherwise think. In short, the author who advocated for “tethered compassion” should also argue against “untethered empathy” instead of “empathy (104).”
A Book Worth Reading
Though Rigney’s book is plagued by the challenges that come with being a shorter volume and could use a touch more nuance in its thesis, its content proves timely and helpful. He has demonstrated that the sacred cow of untethered empathy will harm evangelicalism if it is permitted to freely wonder about evangelism churches and institutions. I hope the readers of this volume take its argument to heart, keep one hand on their ladders, and slay this sacred cow upon the altar of biblical truth before it does more harm.
The arrival of the Christmas season removes (albeit somewhat festively) the margin from our busy schedules. Without fail, the holidays force us to juggle Christmas parties, gifts, and family expectations without removing any of our normal responsibilities.
But the season also provides Christians with a helpful interruption that can be used to infuse new life into one’s quiet times or family devotions as believers rightly seek to connect this holiday season to the birth and ministry of the Lord Jesus. Below are three devotionals that will help both individuals and families facilitate the worship of the Jesus during this December.
In his 25-day devotional, Mohler tackles the essential doctrines of Christmas focusing on the incarnation of Jesus, the virgin birth, and salvation. Though Mohler makes use of his depth of theological knowledge, referencing reformers such as Martin Luther and theologians such as A.T. Robertson, his meditations still readily relate to the average, busy evangelical as Mohler winsomely tackles the stresses of materialism and integrates favorite songs such as “Joy to the World” into his chapters. Both individuals and families will benefit from including these 3-4 page devotionals into their spiritual rhythms this Christmas season.
This 30-day devotional seeks in the words of its editor and my former classmate at MBTS, Geoffrey Chang, “to help you grow a deeper understanding of the theology of Christmas and a greater love for the Savior (9).” Chang accomplishes this goal by pulling 4–5-page excerpts from Charles Spurgeon’s Christmas sermons on Matthew, Luke, and the prophets. Chang also pulls from Spurgeon’s sermons that deal with Christ humanity, divinity, and second coming. To make the sermons more accessible and beneficial to modern audiences, Chang has lightly edited the texts and inserted Scripture references into them. Individuals, couples, and families with older children will greatly benefit from reading this 131-page devotional.
Begg wrote this 25-day devotional hoping to cause his readers “to wonder at all that God has done, and worship the one who lay in the manger that first Christmas night (11).” Seeking to give his audience an appreciation for the first advent and an eager anticipation for the second advent, Begg begins his book at the beginning of Scripture, focusing on the Christmas themes found in Genesis. He then moves through the prophets, the gospel accounts of the Christmas story, the Christmas themes found in the epistles, and the hope of the second advent found in Revelation. Though a quick read, the 6-page devotions possess a spiritual richness and depth that reflect Begg’s 40 plus years in the pulpit. Though an excellent resource for all readers, this book (of the three mentioned in this post) will prove the most accessible for those with younger children as Begg ends each devotional with reflection questions and a hymn.
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