Neuroplasticity & The Gospel

The human brain is a wondrous thing. It is the epicentre of control in our bodies — our entire physical and mental being depends on its function. It is also delicate — prone to morphing under the effects of patterns and experiences. This design signals hope for the anxious or traumatized brain. The idea of a mind that’s too far gone is not a scientific one, and it’s certainly not a biblical one.

Neuroplasticity is how we refer to the ability of the brain and nervous system to change. A key tenant of neuroscience is that neurons (or brain cells) that fire together wire together. In other words, repeated or significant experiences have the potential to physically alter the brain and the way it responds to stimuli.

The part of the brain that detects danger is called the amygdala. It is an important little structure designed to keep us safe. Traumatic experiences can rewire the amygdala, keeping it in a state of hyperawareness. This is one of the reasons that trauma and anxiety are so closely related — the threat-detection system can learn to stay activated even when no threat is present.

In the same way that our brains can learn to remain in a state of fear, they can relearn what it means to feel safe. It’s often not as quick of a process — the physical changes happen over time with repetition.

In Romans 12:2, Paul writes about the power of the renewal of the mind:

“Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God.”

The Greek word used in this passage for transformed is metamorphoō — the same word that refers to a caterpillar morphing into a butterfly. The renewal of the mind that occurs through repeated experiences — including experiences of safety — is a metamorphosis. It requires patience and persistence, and the cocoon period is not particularly comfortable.

The renewal of our minds sometimes requires sacrificing the feeling of safety in the pursuit of freedom. For someone with OCD, it requires resisting responses to triggers to weaken the OCD cycle. For someone with clinical depression, it requires the extreme discomfort of behavioural activation — pursuing activities that produce “happy” neurotransmitters, even with sub-zero motivation or energy. For the believer who wants to think in a way more aligned with Christ, it means the daily surrender of comfortable thought and behavioural patterns.

None of these processes feel intuitive at first. The anxious mind perceives unfamiliarity as danger, and the depressed mind perceives activity as nearly impossible. This is one of the reasons that healing can feel so exhausting — we are asking ourselves to abandon patterns that we feel keep us alive.

The paradox of healing and renewal is exactly this: freedom is often found on the other side of extreme discomfort. As a therapist, this is a road I often walk with clients. It’s also one I’ve walked in my own experience with OCD over and over again.

An important part of the Christian faith is an understanding that full healing does not occur in this age, but the one to come. The beauty of neuroplasticity is that even in this lifetime, the brain is never permanently fixed. What a merciful design God came up with to allow the human mind to change — allowing us to operate with a constant hope on this side of eternity.

Fear does not have to remain the loudest voice in our nervous systems. Little by little, through repeated experiences of safety, our minds can be renewed to experience safety as they were created to.