Priest John Anatolyevich Bakushkin is the rector of the Church of the Exaltation of the Cross in Kolomna, the chairman of the Department for Missionary Work and Youth Affairs of the Kolomna Diocese, the chairman of the Board of Trustees of the State Autonomous Social Service Organization of the Moscow Region “Good House ‘Kolomensky,’” a doctoral candidate of psychological sciences, and the author of numerous scientific publications in the field of psychology and religious studies.
—Believers often fault psychology for the fact that it “fixates on the past,” “dwells on grievances,” teaches people to “dissect” their relationships with others, to clean out their “toxic” environment, and to scrutinize their thoughts. Is there any contradiction here with the pastoral approach?
—I would not call it a contradiction. Psychology and pastoral care deal with different aspects of human life. Clinical psychology is especially important; it focuses on the psychological aspects of mental and psychosomatic disorders, the diagnosis of disorders, psychological correction and rehabilitation, and helps with anxiety and depressive states, the consequences of trauma, and alcohol and other addictions.
However, when turning to psychology, it is important to realize that understanding the causes in and of itself does not change a person. And here, Christian psychology is largely in tune with the patristic understanding of human nature. The Church Fathers paid very close attention to inner life, to thoughts, movements of the soul, and passions. However, the purpose of such attention is not endless self observation, but sobriety and the attainment of inner freedom—to see what is happening to me, not to allow sin to take hold, and to consciously choose good.
All people are imperfect and damaged by sin, but a person is not defined by illness, trauma, or their past
The Christian perspective always leaves room for change. We understand that all people are imperfect and corrupted by sin, but a person is not defined by an illness, a trauma, or their past. A person is capable of changing both psychologically and spiritually.
Therefore, both psychological and spiritual work on oneself must be taken seriously. Psychology cannot be reduced to popular advice from the Internet, just as Christian life cannot be reduced to the formal fact of Baptism. In both cases, inner work and a willingness to change are required. But in Christian life, change occurs not only through human effort, but also thanks to the grace of God.
The things which are impossible with men are possible with God (Luke 18:27).
The line between help and manipulation is very thin
—Church affiliated critics of psychology also have criticisms regarding its tools. Are there psychological methods that are not incompatible with the Orthodox worldview?
—Of course. Psychological methods are very diverse, and a specialist must understand not only how a method works, but also what ideas about human nature it is based on.
A specialist must understand not only how the method works, but also what ideas about human nature it is based on
Far from everything that is called psychologically beneficial these days are things that I would recommend to an Orthodox Christian. For example, at university we studied the constellation method. It contains clear psychological elements: a person can look at a situation from the outside, see the relationships between the participants, and notice things they had not noticed before.
But I have serious concerns both about the scientific validity and the practical application of this method. Moreover, the method’s evidence base remains limited. Suggestion easily arises there: a person is effectively told what they should feel or how they should interpret the behavior of other people. And when the participants’ experiences begin to be perceived almost as a special kind of knowledge about another person, quasi mystical elements start to appear. I consider this unacceptable for pastoral work. The line between helping and manipulation here is indeed very thin.
Another important point is that the person themselves must want to change. This is a very Christian principle—God does not suppress human freedom. In the Gospel, Christ asks the paralytic by the pool: Wilt thou be made whole? (John 5:6). That is, help also presupposes a free answer from the person themselves. If a person has been going to a psychologist or a priest for ten years and keeps talking about how terrible their life partner is, how terrible their parents are, how terrible their job is, how terrible their circumstances are, then at some point, the question arises: When will their life actually start?
I know this from my pastoral experience. I remember how, time and again, I gave the same advice to a woman about how she could change the situation. Once again, she listens to me and nods. I ask: “Tell me honestly, will you do as I said?” “No,” she replied. And this is also an important point: You can support a person, help them see the problem, be there for them, but ultimately, they make the decision to change on their own.
A psychologist and a priest can discuss different aspects of the same problem.
—And what if a person comes to an Orthodox psychologist with a problem that, from the Church’s perspective, looks completely different? Will a psychologist and a priest give different advice to a young person who is suffering because of his non traditional relationship?
—This is where the most difficult question arises. A psychologist must work with a person professionally, but at the same time, he himself remains a person with a certain worldview.
As a priest, I cannot pretend that I do not have an Orthodox view of a person. But the pastoral task is not to condemn, but to help a person understand their life in the light of the Gospel, to freely shape it in accordance with their faith, and to draw closer to God. Therefore, a psychologist and a priest can talk to a person about different aspects of the same problem without replacing each other.
It is very important to understand the boundaries of one’s competence. Psychological counseling deals with psychological experiences, internal conflicts, relationships, anxiety, and feelings of guilt. Pastoral work, on the other hand, concerns issues of spiritual life, moral choice, repentance, and a person’s relationship with God.
—But in real life, these planes still intersect.
—Constantly. For example, there are codependent relationships. Some people may not be evil at all; on the contrary, they may be very kind. They may live with others who drink, and forgive them for everything, covering for them, paying their debts, putting up with their behavior—and sincerely believing they are doing good. But in fact, their behavior may be supporting others’ addictions.
From a psychological perspective, it is important to understand the mechanism itself—why a person is unable to set boundaries, why he feels he is saving someone else, even though in reality he may be enabling their dependence.
From the perspective of spiritual life, another question arises: who controls your life—you yourself or your dependence on another person? And here the concept of asceticism emerges—as an exercise in freedom from what enslaves a person, and in the ability to responsibly use the freedom given by God.
Another example: a woman who grew up in a family with a drinking problem marries a man who has never drunk. But she is so afraid of repeating the familiar scenario that, without even realizing it, she begins to constantly monitor her husband, suspect him, and start quarrels. As a result, the fear of the past begins to shape her current relationship and may contribute to its breakdown.
In general, it is precisely in our relationships with the people closest to us that we sometimes find it most difficult to maintain inner freedom and see what’s happening objectively.
Assessing intentions alone is not enough. We need to look at the results
—So, good intentions do not guarantee that a person is doing good either?
—Of course. This is one of the most difficult things. A person may act with the best intentions—and yet unwittingly cause harm to another. An example is overprotection of a child. The mother is sure that she is doing everything for his benefit, but as a result, the child does not learn to make decisions on his own and doesn’t get used to being responsible for his actions.
There is a very vivid example in the Gospel. Out of love for Christ, the Apostle Peter tried to dissuade Him from the suffering that lay ahead, but in response he heard very harsh words: Get thee behind me, satan (Matthew 16:23). Peter wanted what was good, but he viewed the situation only from a human perspective and failed to see the full depth of what was happening.
Therefore, good intentions alone are not enough. It matters what means we use, what the person’s real needs are, and what consequences our assistance leads to. Assistance should help a person become more free, responsible, and capable of consciously choosing good.
—You have been working with children from orphanages for many years. How did you initially get into this field?
—Actually, it was working with children with special needs that got me into psychology. I entered seminary right after school, and after graduating, I was the rector of a church for twenty years, and next to it there was an orphanage. I still remain the chairman of its board of trustees.
It was there that I realized that just a desire to help is not enough. For example, people want to bring gifts to the boarding school that would appeal to an ordinary child, but in cases of severe developmental disorders, the needs may be completely different—they need special toys, sensory materials, and items that match the motor and cognitive capabilities of a particular child. The same goes for activities and excursions. A regular excursion may be practically useless, while an interactive one, specially adapted to the children’s capabilities, can, on the contrary, provide a great deal. Even conversations about faith had to be structured according to this principle: they are conducted briefly and very concretely, using life situations familiar to the child. This applies to any kind of assistance in general. Sometimes a volunteer sees a child in a stable condition and thinks that the child needs to be “rescued” from the orphanage immediately, without realizing that this stability is maintained by ongoing treatment and professional care. Therefore, compassion must necessarily be combined with reason and an understanding of the person’s real needs.
Compassion must necessarily be combined with reason and an understanding of a person’s real needs
With the blessing of the bishop, I first obtained an education as a social pedagogue in order to professionally work with residential institutions and develop volunteer activities. Then I continued my studies in the field of psychology, family and clinical psychology. Later, also with the blessing of the clergy, I enrolled in a postgraduate program in psychology.
We tried to do a lot for the children; of course, we made some mistakes, and we learned some things through practice. Over the years, there have been a lot of different stories.
“And I saw God yesterday. He waved at me.”
—Like what?
—For example, we used to come and read bedtime stories to the children. Seminarians, young men, often came. But then the caregivers asked us to stop this idea, because the children got so excited that they couldn’t calm down for the rest of the night.
We organized football games, went on hikes, traveled to Moscow, visited museums, the planetarium, the zoo, and went on excursions. I had about forty or fifty such trips. We celebrated Christmas and Pascha together and held arts-and-crafts classes.
There were also some very amusing incidents. Once, I gave prayer books to children. I said to one of them: “Can you read?” “Yes.” I open the book and ask him to read. He starts: “Our Father, Who art in heaven…” I say: “Well done, here you go.” I go up to another child, open the book at a different place: “Can you read?” “I can.” “Well, read.” And he also said: “Our Father, Who art in heaven…” Here I realized that he just wanted a gift as a sign of attention. And the third boy, who had seen all of this, immediately said: “Then I don’t want one.”
Another case: I gave a prayer book to a girl. After some time, she comes up and says: “Father Ioann, give me another prayer book.” I say: “I already gave you one,” “But I’ve already read the whole thing!” she replies.
Or I remember a seminary student telling the children about God and saying: “God cannot be seen.” And one boy immediately objected: “But I saw Him yesterday. He waved at me.”
There were also completely different stories. One student first became interested in cartoons about Russian heroes of old, and then we started telling him about Dmitry Donskoy, Sergius of Radonezh, and about the Church. Gradually, he began to learn prayers, pray, and confess. When it was time to move to an adult boarding school, he asked to be transferred to a place where there was a monastery and he could regularly attend services.
Probably, one of the main skills here is to stop assuming that the other person thinks and feels the same way I do. For a Christian, it also means being able to see the image of God in a person, no matter how difficult their situation may be.
The approach to work should change
—Has the situation changed now?
—The situation has really changed now. Many of the activities that used to be common (hiking trips, outings, excursions) have become much more difficult to organize. Today, residential institutions primarily house children with severe health and developmental disabilities who require constant specialized care and who are harder to place in a family environment.
I remember how one day we took the kids to the museum. But due to the specifics of their condition, I realized that the usual format of a children’s tour hardly works for them: they cannot fully engage in the tour and get out of it what it is meant to provide. Then it became especially clear that times have changed, and the approach to this kind of work must change as well.
The fact that children with less severe disabilities are now more often placed in families is undoubtedly a good thing. It is much better for a child to grow up in a family than in an institution. However, as a result, more children with severe and multiple disabilities remain in the residential care system. It is now much more difficult to carry out the activities we used to organize with them; many do not speak, and some are practically unable to move independently.
And this creates a certain paradox: we talk about the need for socialization, but it is precisely the children with the most severe disabilities—who especially need communication and involvement in society—who often remain the most isolated.
Therefore, now we are trying to organize our work differently. We hold meetings in the church, and the children come to the services and pray with us. For me, the words of Christ are echoed here: Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not (Mark 10:14). Illness or limited intellectual abilities cannot be an obstacle to a person’s encounter with God.
Illness or limited intellectual abilities cannot be an obstacle to a person’s encounter with God
Those who find it especially difficult to leave the orphanage, I administer Communion directly there. Moreover, for many of them, faith becomes very personal. In the adult department, some residents who cannot write ask the staff to help them submit notes. And it is especially touching when a person who has never seen their parents and doesn’t even know their names asks to write: “For the health of Dad and Mom.” The Lord knows whom this person is praying for.
However, almost all holidays and other activities are now held within the walls of the boarding school itself—this makes them truly accessible to children with the most severe disabilities.
Not everyone will be able to simply “go out into independent life.”
—And what happens to them when they grow up?
—This is where an even more serious problem begins. Most of the students with severe or multiple disabilities who remain in our boarding school today will not be able to simply “enter independent life” as adults—many of them need round the clock assistance, care, and constant support.
However, there are also those who are potentially capable of living independently or with some level of support. And here another problem arises. If a person does not know how to plan, negotiate, manage money, or handle everyday issues, then reaching the age of majority is not enough. They simply turn out to be unprepared for independent living.
I have parishioners who are graduates of the boarding school. Some have managed to get a job, some have even started a family. But others are really struggling. And their stories are very different. One person says: “I’m doing great,” but when you start digging deeper, you realize that he simply cannot adequately assess his own situation. Another returns to the adult department of the boarding school after just a few months.
One of our former students has received housing and is living outside the boarding school. Due to his illness, it is difficult for him to consistently perform the same type of work, and he cannot independently resolve certain bureaucratic issues. However, he lives a church life: he regularly confesses and receives communion, helps at the church, goes on trips with young people, and tries to read spiritual literature. In other words, independence here cannot be assessed according to the principle: “Either a person is completely independent, or he is helpless.” Sometimes a person needs support in one area, but at the same time, he is quite capable of living a very meaningful and responsible life in another.
Therefore, the question today is not just about whether a person can leave the residential facility, but about what kind of support he will need next; for some, periodic assistance is sufficient, while others require constant support throughout their lives.
Independence is not about age
—So it is a bit of a cycle?
—Yes. A person leaves the boarding school and enters the wider world, and then returns because he turns out to be unprepared for independent living. The desire alone is not enough—a real capability for independent living is also required, and in cases of severe illnesses and pronounced impairments, this opportunity is sometimes severely limited or practically non existent.
Therefore, today, more and more questions are arising not only about children’s but also about adult forms of supported living. There are institutions where people can stay for almost their entire lives, from childhood to old age. And now the issue of providing assistance to adults with severe disabilities, dementia, and other conditions is becoming increasingly acute.
This is a very serious challenge. If a person is simply physically released from the boarding school at the age of 18–22, this does not mean that he has become independent.
Independence is not about age. It is the ability, to the extent that a person’s capabilities allow, to live among other people, make decisions, take responsibility for himself, and build relationships. And this has both a psychological and a spiritual dimension.
Without faith, a person deprives themselves of a conscious reliance on God
—You defended your candidate’s dissertation in psychology. What made you interested in the topic of spiritual well being?
—My dissertation is titled “Individual psychological predictors of spiritual well being of the individual.” To put it very simply, I was interested in understanding what allows a person to feel that his life is meaningful and internally coherent, and how this can be studied using scientific methods.
In Russian language psychology, spirituality has long been viewed primarily as a value based or worldview category. Spiritual well being is already a psychological construct that can be measured. I adapted the Spiritual Well being Scale by Palutian and Ellison for a Russian language sample. It has two components. Religious well being is how a person perceives his relationship with God—whether he feels God’s closeness and the support of faith. Existential well being is whether he feels the meaning and purpose of his life, whether he understands what he is living for.
Therefore, a person can be non religious and yet experience high existential well being: to consider his or her life meaningful and to be satisfied with it. But this cannot be automatically equated with spiritual well being in the Christian sense. One may subjectively consider oneself quite well off, but without faith, he deprives himself of a conscious reliance on God, prayer, and church life—that life in grace which is revealed to a person through communication with God and the Sacraments of the Church.
The demand from science is enormous, but the secular understanding of spirituality does not always include the religious dimension itself
At the same time, modern science is increasingly serious about the religious and spiritual dimension of health. Studies have linked regular participation in the religious life of traditional faiths with a lower risk of depression and suicide, a greater sense of meaning, and a number of other indicators of well-being. And in 2025, the John Templeton Foundation allocated about $2.55 million to George Washington University for a project to integrate spiritual health and spiritual care into clinical practice. That is, the demand from science is enormous, but the secular understanding of spirituality does not always include the religious dimension itself.
The Ambiguous D-factor
—What did your research show? Are there any unexpected connections?
—Yes. We studied, in particular, the relationship between spiritual well being and the so called “dark tetrad” of personality traits: Machiavellianism, narcissism, psychopathy, and sadism. It is important to understand that we are not talking about psychiatric diagnoses, but about personality traits that, to varying degrees, can also be found in people without psychiatric diagnoses. In some personality disorders, certain of these traits may be significantly more pronounced.
At first, we considered each of these traits separately. However, they share a common “dark core”—the so-called D-factor, which is associated with a focus on one’s own benefit, even at the expense of others, and a tendency to justify such behavior. Therefore, in the future, we used hierarchical regression analysis: First, we took into account the overall D-factor, and then we looked at whether the individual traits retained their own associations with spiritual well being.
This analysis returned an interesting result. The dark core itself is consistently associated with lower spiritual well-being. But after statistically accounting for this common component, some traits show unexpected specific connections. In particular, some residual components of narcissism and psychopathy are positively associated with spiritual well-being in some models. This, of course, does not mean that narcissism or psychopathy becomes a positive quality. We are talking about the complex internal structure of these traits and the fact that after removing their common "dark" component, other psychological characteristics remain.
—So, psychopaths and people with narcissistic personality disorder feel spiritually well off?
—No. First, we did not study people with psychiatric diagnoses, but rather the intensity of individual personality traits. Second, a positive correlation between certain traits and spiritual well-being appears only after the “dark core” is statistically accounted for and adjusted out of the equation. This shows that different psychological components may be hidden behind the same name.
For example, self confidence, emotional resilience, or low anxiety are not inherently bad and can be associated with a higher sense of spiritual well being. The problem begins where these qualities combine with callousness, exploitation of another person, and a willingness to harm them.







