We become attached to God in ways sometimes similar to the way we attach to human beings. Some interesting research exists about God attachment. Kirkpatrick and Shaver (1992) took 213 individuals, mean age of 40, and administered the Attachment Inventory, a standardized instrument, to see what their style of attachment was. Then they asked them questions that would get at their attachment attitudes and styles toward God. They found that individuals who have a secure attachment style viewed God as less punitive, more loving, less distant, and were the most committed to their faith. People with more avoidant attachment styles were more likely to be agnostics, and those with anxious styles were more likely to be charismatic and speak in tongues.
People with a secure attachment considered the opposite of love to be hate. For people who are anxiously or avoidantly attached, the opposite of love is indifference, thus reflecting their deep desire to be attached.
Individuals with a poor attachment style with their mothers were significantly more distant and anxiously or avoidantly attached to God. Individuals who had a secure attachment to God, however, reported less anxiety, depression, physical illness and greater life satisfaction.
I have an article clipping that I cut out of a magazine years ago called "Prayer as a Rorschach." The Rorschach Inkblot test is one in which an individual is shown a blot of ink on a page and asked to describe what it is. The idea is that we project our own experience, ideas, and attitudes onto something ambiguous like an ill-defined blotch on a piece of paper. I was thinking about this article when I read about these attachment-to-God studies. We give away our attachment styles in our prayers. Have you ever stopped to listen to the language people use when they pray? Some beg God not to leave them, or to forgive them for unspeakable sins--there is fear of abandonment strung all through the prayer. Others speak to God as a revered Friend. Still others offer soul-less prayers that offer no hint of warmth or attachment. Have you listened to your own prayers? If you do, you will probably notice hints of your attachment style there.
Another study showed that a secure attachment to God (read, good theology here,) could sometimes compensate for poor attachments to humans for people with naturally insecure attachments. It reminds me of a client who once told me that her entire family climate changed once her father was converted to Christianity. He realized that his behavior was crude, mean, belittling to the others in his family, and that God did not approve of it. He amended his ways, even though he remained a crusty guy who did a lot of odd things to hide his feelings. And the family improved drastically. His marriage became better and his relationship with his young children was much warmer. He had become a more consistent and available attachment figure for them.
Does it happen this way all of the time? Does belief in a transcendent God fundamentally change who we are and how we relate? Unfortunately, not often. I'm not sure why. Some of us are left to battle with the templates we were given as children and cognitively realize that our subjective experience of God is colored by things that He did not do to us.
Perhaps more than anything, these posts on attachment styles remind me that we are each responsible for what we contribute to the attachment templates of the young ones in our lives: nephews, neices, grandchildren, our children and step-children. A beloved teacher who is consistent, warm, and loving to her students can be that one stable person in a child's life that can help them weather difficult family relationships. He or she can also be the person who becomes the model for secure attachment, whilst other, closer family relationships disintegrate. We do not fully appreciate the power of being present, constant, and warm to other people.
People with a secure attachment considered the opposite of love to be hate. For people who are anxiously or avoidantly attached, the opposite of love is indifference, thus reflecting their deep desire to be attached.
Individuals with a poor attachment style with their mothers were significantly more distant and anxiously or avoidantly attached to God. Individuals who had a secure attachment to God, however, reported less anxiety, depression, physical illness and greater life satisfaction.
I have an article clipping that I cut out of a magazine years ago called "Prayer as a Rorschach." The Rorschach Inkblot test is one in which an individual is shown a blot of ink on a page and asked to describe what it is. The idea is that we project our own experience, ideas, and attitudes onto something ambiguous like an ill-defined blotch on a piece of paper. I was thinking about this article when I read about these attachment-to-God studies. We give away our attachment styles in our prayers. Have you ever stopped to listen to the language people use when they pray? Some beg God not to leave them, or to forgive them for unspeakable sins--there is fear of abandonment strung all through the prayer. Others speak to God as a revered Friend. Still others offer soul-less prayers that offer no hint of warmth or attachment. Have you listened to your own prayers? If you do, you will probably notice hints of your attachment style there.
Another study showed that a secure attachment to God (read, good theology here,) could sometimes compensate for poor attachments to humans for people with naturally insecure attachments. It reminds me of a client who once told me that her entire family climate changed once her father was converted to Christianity. He realized that his behavior was crude, mean, belittling to the others in his family, and that God did not approve of it. He amended his ways, even though he remained a crusty guy who did a lot of odd things to hide his feelings. And the family improved drastically. His marriage became better and his relationship with his young children was much warmer. He had become a more consistent and available attachment figure for them.
Does it happen this way all of the time? Does belief in a transcendent God fundamentally change who we are and how we relate? Unfortunately, not often. I'm not sure why. Some of us are left to battle with the templates we were given as children and cognitively realize that our subjective experience of God is colored by things that He did not do to us.
Perhaps more than anything, these posts on attachment styles remind me that we are each responsible for what we contribute to the attachment templates of the young ones in our lives: nephews, neices, grandchildren, our children and step-children. A beloved teacher who is consistent, warm, and loving to her students can be that one stable person in a child's life that can help them weather difficult family relationships. He or she can also be the person who becomes the model for secure attachment, whilst other, closer family relationships disintegrate. We do not fully appreciate the power of being present, constant, and warm to other people.
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