The Problem of Suffering
A Solution Beyond the Three Forces of Psychology
by Dr. gerardmcnicholas
Years ago, I ran into an old friend at a holiday gathering. Once full of life, Pete stood before me, arms crossed, his demeanor more subdued. When we finally had a moment alone, he hesitantly shared a string of heartbreaking struggles—addiction, an impending divorce, and a crisis of faith. As if startled by his own vulnerability, he said,
““Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you with this. I just know you study psychology and thought you might have some advice.””
The weight of his words lingered between us. I longed to offer something meaningful, but I knew I couldn’t give him what he truly needed in our brief moments together. As time passed, I was struck by a deeper realization: For all its insights, psychology could never fully address the heart’s deepest longing for healing, restoration, and hope in the face of despair.
Pete’s suffering reflected a universal human experience, one that philosophy and theology have grappled with for centuries. Over the past hundred years, psychology has attempted to provide answers through three dominant schools of thought: psychodynamic, behavioral-cognitive, and humanistic-existential. Each provides valuable insights, but none offer a response that corresponds to the deepest human longings for healing and wholeness.
Suffering is the experience of disconnection and fragmentation fueled by the loss of relational harmony with God and others. This rupture leads to pain, isolation, and a profound yearning for restoration, frequently presenting as depression, anxiety, or emotional distress. While modern psychology attempts to manage these symptoms, it frequently overlooks a greater truth: True healing ultimately comes through reconciliation and renewal in Christ’s redemptive love.
This is the essence of authentic Catholic accompaniment. However, this approach cannot remain abstract; it must be incarnational—woven into the daily experience of walking with those who suffer, just as Christ Himself did. To fully grasp this shift, we must examine the three major psychological traditions, their limitations, and how a Catholic vision of healing integrates psychological insight with the transformative power of relationship.
Three Roads through Suffering: The Competing Paths of Psychology
Psychology has mapped several approaches to understanding suffering, broadly categorized into three major traditions. The first, psychodynamic theory, originates from Sigmund Freud and was later expanded by figures such as Carl Jung, Erik Erikson, and John Bowlby. It interprets suffering as the result of unconscious conflicts, unresolved childhood wounds, and attachment disruptions. For someone like Pete, a psychodynamic approach might explore how his addictive behaviors and marital struggles stem from early relational wounds, such as insecure attachment or unmet emotional needs, helping him uncover subconscious patterns that repeat in his current relationships and self-destructive tendencies.
By contrast, the behavioral-cognitive approach, championed by Ivan Pavlov, B.F. Skinner, Aaron Beck, and Albert Ellis, redirects attention to observable behaviors and distorted thought patterns, seeking to alleviate distress through behavioral conditioning and cognitive restructuring. In Pete’s case, a cognitive-behavioral approach might help him identify negative thinking patterns that lead to feelings of shame or helplessness, reframe his beliefs about himself and his relationships, and implement behavioral strategies to break free from addictive cycles.
Meanwhile, the humanistic-existential movement, pioneered by Carl Rogers, Viktor Frankl, and Abraham Maslow, emerged in response to the rigid structure of earlier models. It emphasizes personal growth, self-actualization, and the search for meaning. This perspective interprets suffering as a disconnection from one’s authentic self or life’s deeper purpose, proposing healing through self-awareness and relational authenticity. For Pete, this approach might encourage deep self-reflection, helping him examine how his addiction and relational distress are signs of a deeper crisis of meaning, guiding him to rediscover his personal values, and cultivate a more authentic way of engaging in his relationships.
Each of these psychological forces clearly contribute valuable insights, yet none provide a fully restorative vision of human suffering. This raises a fundamental question: If therapeutic models can diagnose pain, analyze its origins, and propose coping strategies and solutions, why do so many still feel lost, disconnected, and without a deeper sense of meaning?
Psychology without a Story: The Missing Key of Meaning
Despite their contributions, the three major traditions of psychology share a common limitation: They tend to address suffering in isolation—fragmenting the mind from the body, the psychological from the spiritual, and the individual from the relational. What is more, because therapy can often function within a rigid, time-bound framework, it can disintegrate suffering from the rest of a person’s life and the larger narratives that give it meaning. This may offer temporary relief but leaves individuals to carry most of their burdens alone, making suffering a solitary task rather than a shared experience within a relationship of love and support.
At this juncture, it’s worth pointing out that Viktor Frankl’s logotherapy offers a rare insight—one that psychology alone cannot fully comprehend without the help of a Catholic Christian lens. Drawing from his experiences in a Nazi concentration camp, Frankl speaks profoundly to the human capacity to find meaning even in suffering, believing that this search is not just a source of resilience, but the defining feature of human existence.
Unlike psychodynamics, which focuses on resolving past conflicts, Frankl emphasizes noo-dynamics—the tension between psyche and spirit, between who we are and who we are called to become. This future-directed pursuit of meaning mirrors St. John Paul II’s exhortation to “become who you are,”
““become who you are,””
affirming that true fulfillment comes not through self-actualization alone but through the sincere gift of oneself in love.
All this said, finding meaning is still not enough; healing requires relationship. The three major forces of psychology may offer insight, but they miss the relational and incarnational structure needed for true transformation. Suffering is not healed in isolation but in the presence of another who walks alongside, imparting meaning and hope. This is precisely what we see on the road to Emmaus. Jesus journeys with His disciples, revealing that their pain was not meaningless, but rather integral to God’s larger story of salvation. Without this broader perspective, suffering remains fragmented, and its potential for transformation diminished.
Love That Walks with Us: A Catholic Answer to Suffering
Dr. Paul Vitz, a pioneer in Catholic psychology, looks through the fog of postmodern confusion and dares to hope for a transmodern future—one in which healing is embedded within a truly Christian framework. He envisions a world where the
““acceptance and reinforcement of a theistic interpretation of the spiritual life of the patient transcends psychotherapy””
Such a vision does not reject psychology’s insights but situates them within a larger reality—where psychodynamic, behavioral-cognitive, and humanistic-existential approaches are not ends in themselves but stepping stones toward a deeper, more integrated healing path.
This was the kind of accompaniment that my friend Pete needed. His suffering was not merely a collection of symptoms but an unraveling of his identity, mission, and Christian faith. Addiction and impending divorce fractured his sense of self, leaving him disconnected and disoriented. What he needed was not just a reframing of his experience; he needed a presence—someone to walk with him in the wreckage, anchor him in hope, and help him reconstruct his life’s story.
While the three forces of secular psychology could help Pete understand his past, retrain his thoughts, and create a renewed sense of meaning, Christ’s model of accompaniment offers something more: the daily presence that transforms these insights into a new way of living. True healing for Pete would not be an isolated psychological process but a relational one—sustained in the presence of another who remains steadfast through setbacks, calls him toward virtue, and affirms that his story is not over but still being written.
This is precisely where a Catholic vision of healing transcends the limits of secular models. While modern psychology can remain theoretical and detached, offering insight without integration, a Catholic approach is incarnational—rooted in real, embodied relationships where healing unfolds within the fabric of daily life. Christ did not merely impart wisdom about suffering; He entered into it, walked alongside the afflicted, and restored them in love.
True accompaniment follows this same pattern: a love that remains, that moves toward brokenness, and that helps the sufferer rediscover their identity in communion with others. This is not simply about providing strategies for change but about offering the kind of sustained presence that transforms suffering into a path of renewal. Perhaps this is why Dr. Vitz envisions a future in which therapy is “transfigured”—no longer confined to clinical settings but embedded within the life of the Church, family, and community. Thus, healing would not merely be an individual pursuit, but a shared journey of restoration.
For healing to truly restore, it must be woven into the rhythms of daily life, fostering deep relational bonds through small, consistent encounters. These ongoing interactions provide the presence, continuity, and spontaneity that traditional therapy can lack, allowing suffering to be met in the moment rather than postponed for a later scheduled session. This is the kind of accompaniment that Christ modeled. Jesus didn’t offer weekly interventions. He walked daily with His disciples, teaching, correcting, and restoring them through the power of relationship—showing that healing is not a technique but a way of being with others in love.
A Path Paved with Presence: The Call to Accompany Others
Every story of suffering can remind us that healing is not found in isolation or mere self-exploration but through love and the restoration of a fractured story within God’s redemptive plan. The Catechism of the Catholic Church affirms,
““By his passion and death on the cross Christ has given a new meaning to suffering: it can henceforth configure us to him and unite us with his redemptive Passion” (CCC, 1505).”
Here, the Catholic vision expands upon Frankl’s insights: Suffering is not merely something to be endured; it is a path to deeper union with Christ, where pain itself can become an instrument of redemption, grace, meaning, and hope.
Catholic accompaniment serves as the bridge between therapeutic insight and transformation, embedding healing into the context of relationship, community, and the slow, redemptive work of conversion. For those called to journey with others on their road to Emmaus, Pope Francis reminds us,
““Accompanying people in suffering is not only an act of charity, but it also means sharing their suffering and allowing them to find Jesus there, present in the midst of their struggles.” Thus, it is ultimately Christ who is the solution that transcends the limitations of modern psychology—one not found in theory but in the lived encounter of relationship.”
