Dear Christian Therapist (who's working to bridge the gap)

Long time, no reads! Catch up on Substack

Over the past few years, I’ve noticed an increasing tension between the mental health community and the church. Both want to heal people, both want to see lives transformed—but their languages, frameworks, and worldviews often clash. It’s a quiet conflict that leaves many therapists discouraged and many churchgoers misunderstood.

It’s easier to bring correction to the church when you understand its language, values, and principles. But it’s nearly impossible to destigmatize mental health within faith spaces if you don’t know how to speak in a way that connects with those values. You can’t be fluent only in the language of your professional field and think that’s enough to bridge the gap.

I’m not a therapist. My role often looks different: I’m the person who listens, hires, and positions therapists in front of people who need their expertise. From that seat, I’ve watched what happens when a mental health professional enters a church context without Gospel fluency or an understanding of spiritual warfare. The correction they offer is rarely wrong—it’s just incomplete. It can land as condescending or disconnected, even when intentions are pure. For people who have been conditioned to see emotional struggle through a spiritual lens, incomplete correction isn’t convincing—it’s alienating.

That’s why “Trust me, I’m licensed” doesn’t work with religious audiences. It’s not enough to know what they believe; you have to know why they believe it. The church has its own internal logic, its own hierarchy of truths. To engage it meaningfully, you have to understand faith as more than belief—it’s a worldview that assigns purpose, morality, and meaning to everything, including suffering and healing. When mental health professionals dismiss that worldview, even indirectly, they lose credibility before they’ve begun.

But for those who can bridge these worlds, the opportunity is profound. The work of a therapist is, at its core, deeply spiritual. Healing the mind is not separate from healing the spirit—it’s part of the same human tapestry. To stand before a room full of skeptical believers and speak to both faith and the mind’s renewal is a courageous act. It’s not about defending psychology against theology; it’s about revealing their shared pursuit of wholeness. When you stop defending and start translating, you make space for real transformation.

Still, the work is hard. Many therapists have felt dismissed by church leaders who claim spiritual authority without clinical understanding. You may have been dishonored by people who believe prayer alone can do what your training equips you to do. And yet, something in you still feels called to serve them—to bridge the very gap that has wounded you. That calling deserves to be honored.

If that’s you, you don’t need a new credential—you need a strategy. You need language that resonates with faith, not fights it. Because when Gospel fluency meets clinical expertise, the conversation about mental health in the church changes from confrontation to invitation.

This work isn’t for everyone—but if it’s for you, keep going. The church needs your voice, and the world needs the bridge you’re building.

Here’s a some things you can add to your blueprint: https://rb.gy/wlni8c