The Top 9 Books on the History of Pastoral Counseling/Biblical Counseling

If we are to practice biblical counseling effectively today, we need to understand our historical roots. As G. K. Chesterton noted:

“Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about” (Orthodoxy, p. 3).

The following books give “vote and voice” to that “great cloud of witnesses” whose lives and ministries have much to teach us about the personal ministry of the word.

Beyond the Suffering: Embracing the Legacy of African American Soul Care and Spiritual Direction by Bob Kellemen (Baker Books, 2007). 

The African American church has always helped hurting people through the ministries of sustaining, healing, reconciling, and guiding. This four-dimensional model is the traditional and widely recognized pattern for understanding one-another ministry, spiritual friendship and pastoral care. Beyond the Suffering offers an in-depth exploration of this rich tradition showing Christians proven ways to help people find hope in the midst of their deep pain. Learn from the heroes of Black Church history.

The Biblical Counseling Movement After Adams by Heath Lambert (Crossway, 2011). 

The Biblical Counseling Movement After Adams is a valuable book for anyone who wants to understand what makes biblical counseling truly biblical, and how the modern biblical counseling movement has developed over the past forty years.

The Biblical Counseling Movement: History and Context by David Powlison (New Growth Press, 2010). 

The Biblical Counseling Movement unites the twin themes of biblical counseling and church history. Everyone interested in the modern biblical counseling movement will benefit from this well-researched and well-written book. It presents a fair and balanced exploration of one of the most important developments in the Evangelical church over the past generation. Readers will be equipped not only with historical insight, but more importantly, with wisdom for how to speak the truth in love.

Classical Pastoral Care, Vol. 3: Pastoral Counsel by Thomas C. Oden (Baker, 1987). 

It’s almost unfathomable to imagine the amount of tedious research that went into the development of Classical Pastoral Care. All four volumes are worth purchasing. But volume three, “Pastoral Counsel,” is worth the price of the entire series. Here Oden collates amazingly relevant quotes from the halls of Church history, all demonstrating how God’s people, pastoral and lay, men and women, have always ministered pastoral care one to another.

Helpful Truth in Past Places: The Puritan Practice of Biblical Counseling, by Mark A. Deckard (Christian Focus, 2010). 

Helpful Truth in Past Places is a valuable addition to the growing literature on the history of biblical counseling, soul care, and spiritual direction. It helps us to think theologically about suffering and sin. It encourages us with the truth that God’s Word is sufficient, relevant, and profound. It accomplished the goal Deckard set for it, “it will hopefully encourage believers to revisit these and other Puritan writers in order to be better equipped in their ministry of helping others.”

A History of the Cure of Souls by John T. McNeil (Harper, 1951/1977). 

McNeil provides readers with a magisterial mapping of the landscape of two millennium of soul care and spiritual direction. In a brief but pointed section on Old Testament and New Testament spiritual care, McNeil documents that God’s people have always been about the business of helping hurting and hardened people through shared conversations around the Word. He then transports readers through Church history both chronologically and denominationally. For an introduction to the history of soul care, no one does it better.

A History of Pastoral Care in America: From Salvation to Self-Realization, by E. Brooks Holifield (Wipf and Stock, 1983/2005). 

A History of Pastoral Care in America is peerless. Others such as Clebsch and Jaekle and McNeil have written broad histories of soul care, but none have tackled the challenge of a focused study of soul care and spiritual direction in American religious history. E. Brooks Holifield has penned the comprehensive guide that traces the trajectory of American pastoral care. Holifield’s greatest gift in this book is his ability to synthesize large tracks of material. In particular, his subtitle communicates his understanding of the historical path taken by American pastors: “from salvation to self-realization.”

Pastoral Care in Historical Perspective by William Clebsch and Charles Jaekle (Jason Aronson, 1964/1994).

This book revolutionized my thinking about biblical counseling. It provided me with the historical matrix of sustaining, healing, reconciling, and guiding. Clebsch and Jaekle write convincingly that any model of pastoral counseling worthy of the title must include these four elements (sustaining, healing, reconciling, and guiding). After several well-written chapters that overview the nature of these four tasks, the authors then provide historical samples upon which to feast—samples illustrating the four tasks in historical perspective.

Sacred Friendships: Celebrating the Legacy of Women Heroes of the Faith by Bob Kellemen (BMH Books, 2009). 

Sacred Friendships celebrates the incredible stories of over fifty amazing Christian women. It gives voice to the voiceless as it narrates how godly women for the past 2,000 years have provided sustaining and healing soul care along with reconciling and guiding spiritual direction. Sacred Friendships enlightens readers to the often neglected legacy of Christian women and then equips women and men to apply that legacy to their lives and ministries.

Join the Conversation

What books on the history of pastoral counseling/biblical counseling would you add to this list?

Note: The book list first appeared at the Biblical Counseling Coalition’s Book Review site. You can read it here.

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Tags: Biblical Counseling, Book Reviews, Books, Church History, Pastoral Counseling

Reformation Sunday: Martin Luther’s Story, Part 4—Clothed by Christ

Note: This week’s posts share a dramatic reading (Here I Stand!) that I present in character as Martin Luther telling his story of salvation by grace alone through faith alone. These posts are based upon my Ph.D. Dissertation: “Martin Luther’s Pastoral Counseling.” To read Part 1, visit: Unable to Satisfy God. To read Part 2, visit: A Spiritual Pauper. To read Part 3, visit: Clothed by Faith.

Recap: When we last heard from Martin Luther, he was proclaiming: “By faith alone in Christ alone God declared me righteous and acceptable. Now I had peace with God.”

B. Standing before God with Christ’s Righteousness and Courage     

With the zeal of a missionary, I dedicated the rest of my life to telling others the good news of salvation by grace through faith. For now I knew that I stood before God with Christ’s righteousness and with Christ’s courage. It was such courage and zeal that led me to post my theological convictions, my 95 Theses, on the door of the Castle Church in Wittenburg, Germany on October 31, 1517.

1. Courageous Faith to Proclaim Faith Alone, Grace Alone, Scripture Alone, in Christ Alone

It’s vital that you understand my motivation. I was responsible for the spiritual welfare of my flock. Message after message, sermon after sermon, lesson after lesson, I taught God’s sheep that salvation was by faith alone in Christ alone through grace alone based upon Scripture alone.

However, my sheep were procuring indulgences as I once had. They believed in purgatory—a place of temporary punishment where sinners paid for their sins. They also believed that indulgences shortened their time in purgatory.

The Church granted them indulgences for religious works such as participation in a Crusade, visiting certain shrines, praying in sanctuaries where relics of saints were kept, paying for the celebration of the Mass, or simply for the payment of money to the Church. In fact, in my day indulgences became nothing more than the Church bingo of the sixteenth century! Conned by the Church, foolish people gave all they had to purchase God’s forgiveness. Imagine that! They believed, as I had, that they could buy their way out of punishment into God’s favor.

Many of my flock journeyed to the Dominican Friar, John Tetzel, to purchase their freedom from guilt. I despised Tetzel as a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Instead of preaching the gospel, he pranced about singing his little ditty: “As soon as the money clinks in the chest, a soul flees up to heavenly rest.”

He was teaching people to trust in works alone, in self alone, based upon superstition alone for their salvation. Their very souls were at stake. Indulgences were nothing but knavery and fraud. Christ alone, through faith alone, by grace alone, based upon Scripture alone had to be preached.

Believing this, I prepared my 95 Theses, or theological facts. For example, in Thesis 62, I declared: “The true treasure of the Church is the most holy gospel of the glory and grace of God.” On the Eve of All Saints Day, I nailed my 95 Theses to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenburg thereby proclaiming that I was prepared to debate anyone, monk, priest, Pope, or Emperor, who dared to proclaim that salvation came by works.

Barely two weeks after being posted, these theses had circulated all over Germany. A Reformation had begun.

2. Courageous Faith to Stand Alone

The next four years of my life both tested and confirmed my faith. Christ empowered me to display a courageous faith to stand alone. When the Pope threatened to excommunicate me and the Emperor threatened to execute me, even my friends and supporters urged me to back down. Once my best friend, Spalantin, warned me harshly. I responded to him:

Find someone else to scare! Spalantin, I have no better friend, but even you have no right to ask me, even out of regard for my safety, to stop preaching God’s truth from God’s Word.

After four years, I was called to stand trial for my faith. On the 16th of April, 1521, I entered the city of Worms, Germany in a two-wheeled cart accompanied by a few companions. Here at the Diet, or Church council, of Worms, I was called to give an account of my faith.

I came to debate. They insisted that I recant.

With the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire presiding, with representatives of the Pope present, I was asked, “Martin Luther, do you or do you not repudiate your books and the errors which they contain?” To which I replied:

Since your Majesty, and your Lordships desire a simple reply, I will answer without horns and without teeth. Unless I am convicted by Scriptures and plain reason—I do not accept the authority of Popes and Councils, for they have contradicted each other. I consider myself convicted by the testimony of Holy Scriptures, which is my basis; my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me. Amen.

In response, the Emperor declared, “I mobilize everything against you, Luther. My kingdoms and dominions, my friends, my body, my blood, and my soul.”

My life in jeopardy, many inquired how I could stand. All I could say then, all I say now is: “Here I stand because of Christ.” That’s what faith is. As I once described:

Faith is a living, daring confidence in God’s grace, so sure and certain that a man would stake his life on it a thousand times. Hence a man is ready and glad, without compulsion, to do good to everyone, to serve everyone, to suffer everything in love and praise to God, who has shown him this grace.

Conclusion: Luther’s Lasting Legacy—Trust in Christ/Stand for Christ

Four-hundred-ninety-three years after I nailed my 95 Theses to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenburg, I challenge you to live the legacy of the Reformation. You live that legacy when you tire of your own righteousness and trust in Christ’s righteousness alone.

In one of my earliest letters, I wrote to my dear friend George Spenlein who was an Augustinian friar in the monastery at Wittenburg. My challenge to him then is my challenge to you now.

Now, I should like to know whether your soul, tired of its own righteousness, is learning to be revived by and to trust in the righteousness of Christ. For in our age the temptation to presumption besets many, especially those who try with all their might to be just and good without knowing the righteousness of God, which is most bountiful and freely given in Christ. They try to do good of themselves in order that they might stand before God clothed in their own virtues and merits. But this is impossible.

Tire of your own righteousness and trust in Christ’s righteousness.

You also live my legacy, Christ’s legacy, the Reformation legacy, when you stand firm, your conscience held captive to the Word of God. Live according to faith alone, by grace alone, in Christ alone, based upon Scripture alone. Believe no one, no leader, no preacher, no teacher who teaches any gospel other than the one proclaimed in this Word—salvation by grace through faith in Christ.

Stand for all that this Word teaches. Stand alone if need be. For when you have faith in Christ, you are never alone. You always stand in the welcoming, accepting, loving, holy, strong, and all-powerful arms of God. Stand firm in Christ. Stand firm for Christ.

Here I stand!

Join the Conversation 

How are you standing firm in Christ and standing firm for Christ?

Tags: Church History, Luther, Martin Luther, Reformation, Reformation Sunday

Reformation Sunday: Martin Luther’s Story, Part 3—Clothed by Faith

Note: This week’s posts share a dramatic reading (Here I Stand!) that I present in character as Martin Luther telling his story of salvation by grace alone through faith alone. These posts are based upon my Ph.D. Dissertation: “Martin Luther’s Pastoral Counseling.” For Part 1, visit: Unable to Satisfy God. For Part 2, visit: A Spiritual Pauper. 

Recap: When we last heard from Martin Luther, he was telling us: “I came to realize that the religious answers of my day would never quiet my soul. I came to realize that all human beings and all human institutions were spiritually impoverished. I was a spiritual pauper.”

II. Here I Stand: Clothed by Faith in My Holy Savior          

Ah! But this realization was the beginning of the Reformation. My awareness of my spiritual poverty motivated me to cry out to God for grace in spiritual humility.

As I turned away from the world and turned to God’s Word, I began to understand that no matter what coverings I attempted to wear to hide my sins, the piercing eyes of my holy God saw only filthy rags. God’s Word opened the eyes of my heart to another truth—the Reformation truth that I could stand before my holy God clothed by faith in my holy Savior.

Before any of us can stand before God, we must discover and admit that there is something drastically wrong with us. I came to understand that my very nature was corrupt and that my whole nature needed to be changed. I came to perceive that it wasn’t just individual sins that needed forgiveness; I needed to be forgiven.

A. Standing before God Clothed and Accepted

But how? How could I find forgiveness? How could I stand before God clothed and accepted? My questions were answered as I studied Paul’s letter to the Romans. My study of Romans was my Damascus Road though which God’s light radiated and peace with God became real. As I once wrote:

Romans is the chief part of the New Testament and the very purest gospel. It is worthy not only that all Christians should know it word for word, but that they should occupy themselves with it every day, as the daily bread of the soul. In Romans, I found the answer for which I had been endlessly searching. I discovered that the route to God leads through the path of faith in Christ.

1. Faith in My Forgiving Father

Through my studies, I began to see God in a drastically different light. My image of God radically altered. Where God had been an angry Enemy, He was now a forgiving Father. The All Terrible was now the All Merciful. The All Holy was now also the All Compassionate. I gained my new awareness through an ardent thirst to know what God meant by the phrase in Romans 1:17, “The righteousness of God is revealed in the gospel.”

I had hated the phrase, “the righteousness of God,” for I had been taught that it meant only that God is righteous and that He punishes unrighteous sinners. In fact, I was angry with God. I was born in sin, I lived in sin, and the only sure fact that I could count on was that I would be damned in sin by a righteous God.

At last, God being merciful, as I meditated day and night on the connection of the words, “the righteousness of God is revealed in the gospel, as it is written: ‘the righteous shall live by faith,’” I began to understand that the gospel was a gift of God received by faith. And that our loving Father forgives us when we place our faith in Christ’s righteousness. As I wrote at the time:

This immediately made me feel as though I had been born again, and as though I had entered through open gates into paradise itself! And now where I had once hated the phrase, “the righteousness of God,” so much I began to love and extol it as the sweetest of words, so that this passage in Paul became the very gate of Eden for me. Now I had found God’s portal of salvation. Through the door of faith in Christ, I could enter God’s heavenly home. In Christ, God accepted me.

I now viewed God as a loving Father instead of a wrathful Enemy. Now I perceived myself as loved by God and free to love instead of being hated by God and consumed with hate.

2. Faith in My Gracious Savior 

Placing faith in my forgiving Father, I also placed faith in my gracious Savior. I read in God’s Word that, “He who was without sin, for our sake became sin for us.” Christ took to Himself the iniquity of us all! He identified Himself with us to participate in our alienation. Wrath and love mingled on the cross of Christ. In the utter desolation of the forsaken Christ, God the Father reconciled the world to Himself.

I could not believe this. Christ suffered for me. He took my sin. He died for me. I had known Christ only as a stern Judge, now I knew Him as my gracious Savior. I began to see Christ as One who comforts, not as One who alarms. I now saw that Christ was my bridge to God. I am not good and righteous, but Christ is. Listen to what I wrote one day about my experience in Romans:

In Romans my anxious conscience found relief through the unconditional forgiveness of sin granted as a gift of grace from God through His Son, Jesus Christ. If you have a true faith that Christ is your Savior, then at once you have a gracious God, for faith leads you in and opens up God’s heart and will, that you should see pure grace and overflowing love. When you behold God in faith, you look upon His fatherly, friendly heart, in which there is no anger nor ungraciousness.

All my life, I wondered how I could ever find peace with God. I longed to know what I could do to be accepted by God. Now I knew. I could do nothing. What had to be done; Christ had already done. Christ died and rose again to pay for my sin. In paying for my sin, Christ opened the arms of God. God’s arms were now open to me, welcoming me, and all I had to do was believe. By faith alone in Christ alone God declared me righteous and acceptable. Now I had peace with God.

The Rest of the Story

I invite you to return tomorrow as we learn how Martin Luther dedicated the rest of his life to telling others that they could stand before God clothed with Christ’s righteousness.

Join the Conversation

When and how did God’s Word opened the eyes of your heart to the truth that you could stand before your holy God clothed by faith in your holy Savior?

Tags: Church History, Luther, Martin Luther, Reformation, Reformation Sunday

Reformation Sunday: Martin Luther’s Story, Part 2—A Spiritual Pauper

Note: This week’s posts share a dramatic reading (Here I Stand!) that I present in character as Martin Luther telling his story of salvation by grace alone through faith alone. These posts are based upon my Ph.D. Dissertation: “Martin Luther’s Pastoral Counseling.” For Part 1, visit: Unable to Satisfy God.

Recap: When we last heard from Martin Luther, he was sharing with us: “My conscience was terrified. My spirit despaired. I was unable to satisfy God at any point. What could I do?”                

B. Standing before God with Filthy Rags and Ashamed

I did exactly what the Church taught me to do. I latched onto every help that the Church had to offer: the monastery, works, sacraments, pilgrimages, indulgences—everything. It was only years later that I discovered that all my works of righteousness left me standing before God ashamed of my filthy rags. Walk with me down the foolish road of works. Walk first with me into the monastery where I tried on the garment of the filthy rags of good works.

1. The Filthy Rags of Works: Monkery in the Monastery

I entered the monastery to find peace with God, to earn peace with God. I knew that I could never appear before the tribunal of a terrible God with an impure heart; so I must become holy. What better place to practice good works unto holiness than in the monastery? Here lived heroic athletes rigorously training to take heaven by storm.

One of the privileges of monastic life was that it freed me from all distractions, allowing me to strive to save my soul through works of chastity, charity, sobriety, poverty, love, obedience, fastings, vigils, and mortification of the flesh. Whatever good works a man might do to save himself, I was resolved to perform.

I was a good monk and I kept the rules of my order so strictly that I may say that if ever a monk got to heaven by his monkery, it was I! All my brothers in the monastery who knew me testify to this. If I had kept on any longer, I would have killed myself with vigils, prayers, fasting, and other disciplines.

For instance, when I was a monk, I was unwilling to omit any of my required prayers. However, when I was busy with public lecturing and writing, I often accumulated my appointed prayers for a whole week, or even two, or three. Then I would take a Saturday off, or shut myself in for as long as three days without food and drink, until I had said the prescribed prayers. This made my head split, and consequently I could not close my eyes for five nights. I lay sick unto death, and went out of my senses. I thought I could save my soul by punishing my body.

Though driven there for soul rest, the monastic life of good works failed to ease my guilt. Bowed down by sorrow, I tortured myself with the multitude of my thoughts. I would say to myself, “Look! You are still envious, impatient, passionate! It profits you nothing, O wretched man, to have entered this sacred order.”

I clearly recognized the futility of my good works when I said my first Mass. I wrote my father about my ordeal.

Here I experienced another thunderstorm, this one in my spirit. I stood before the altar and began to recite the introductory portion of the Mass. Then I came to the words, “We offer unto Thee, the living, the true, the eternal God.” At that very moment, the terror of the Holy struck me like lightning. At these words I was utterly terror-stricken. I thought to myself, “With what tongue shall I address such Majesty, seeing that all men ought to tremble in the presence of even an earthly prince. Who am I, that I should lift up mine eyes or raise my hands to the Divine Majesty? And shall I, a miserable little pygmy, say, ‘I want this, I ask for that?’ For I am dust and ashes and full of sin and I am speaking to the living, eternal, and the true God.”

In short, as a monk I experienced the horrors, the shame, and the futility of trying to earn peace with God through good works.

2. The Filthy Rags of the Merits of the Saints: Indulging in Indulgences

I hungered to find assurance of my salvation. However, the rigors of the monastic life could not calm my clamoring conscience. I saw that I was a great sinner in the eyes of God and I realized how impossible it would be for me to please God on my own merits. So I fled to the merits of the saints.

Though I was not good enough, perhaps the pooled goodness of all the saints would be good enough to please God. I believed the Church’s teaching that the combined goodness of the saints, especially of the Blessed Virgin Mary, could save me. Mary, I was taught, was better than she needed to be for her own salvation. The extra merit of her righteousness constituted a treasury that the Church could transfer to my account. In other words, I would borrow her goodness to make up for my lack. Such a transfer or borrowing, the Pope called an indulgence.

Wanting to take full benefit of such a transfer, I felt myself highly privileged when the opportunity arose to go to Rome. Rome, like no city on earth, was richly endowed with spiritual indulgences. I could touch a piece of the very cross on which Christ died and shorten my time of punishment by 17,000 years. Each “Hail Mary” I said before the statue of the Blessed Virgin would earn me ten years worth of good works. I felt truly blessed to be able to climb, on hands and knees, the very stairs Christ climbed in Pilate’s temple. Each “Our Father” said on each step was worth nine years’ forgiveness, and an “Our Father” said on the step with the silver cross was worth double merit. I even kissed each step for good measure.

However, arriving at the top stair, I raised myself to full height and exclaimed, “Who knows whether it is so?” I had gone to Rome with the onions of my good works, and returned home only with the garlic of the merits of the saints.

My chief concern in going to Rome was that I might become a saint through the merits of the saints. Yet, all I found in Rome was the shamelessness, godlessness, and wickedness of all people, so-called saints included. For they, too, were sinners, unworthy of a holy God. How could they possibly offer me anything acceptable to God? I was striving after my own good works and the merits of the saints in order to compensate for my sins, but I could never feel that the ledger was balanced.

3. The Filthy Rags of the Sacrament of Penance: Confessions about Confession

I could not acquire heaven by becoming a saint, nor by the merits of the saints. However, I had one more set of filthy rags to wear—the filthy rags of the sacrament of penance. I was taught that the sacraments—like baptism, communion, confession or penance—actually added or dispensed grace. We may not be good enough, the saints may not be good enough, but the Church can add to our goodness because our participation in a sacrament serves as a reservoir for accumulating more of Christ’s grace.

In particular, I availed myself of the sacrament of penance or confession to a priest. I confessed frequently, often daily for as long as six hours. I believed that every sin, in order to be absolved or forgiven, had to be specifically confessed. Therefore, I had to search my memory for sins of action and sins of motivation. I would review my entire life to be sure to remember everything, until even my confessor grew weary.

The great difficulty I experienced was my lack of assurance that I had recalled everything. My soul would recoil in horror when, after six hours of confession to a priest, a new sin would come to mind that I had not recalled. Even more frightening was the realization that a sinner like me did not even recognize some sins as sins. I went every day to confession, but it was of no use to me. I always thought. “You did not perform that correctly. God has not forgiven you.”

I had recourse to a thousand methods to stifle the cries of my conscience. Yet I despaired because I always doubted that God was gracious to me. I could find no portal of salvation. I could not enter into fellowship with God through the harbor of my own good works. I could not approach God through the window of the merits of the saints. I could not draw near to God through the door of the Church.

I came to realize that the religious answers of my day would never quiet my soul. I came to realize that all human beings and all human institutions were spiritually impoverished. I was a spiritual pauper.

The Rest of the Story

I invite you to return tomorrow as we learn how Martin Luther turned from works to faith.

Join the Conversation

What futile works did you cling to before you placed your faith in Christ’s finished work?

Tags: Church History, Luther, Martin Luther, Reformation, Reformation Sunday

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