Shame

This is part of a journal entry series for a class taken in Spring 2007. Topics are addressed along with our image of God-- how the topic affects our image of God, how our image of God affects our life.

“Sin hath the devil for its father, shame for its companion, and death for its wages” -Thomas Watson

I think a thin line of difference exists between shame and guilt. Both seem to feed off each other; yet, shame can grow out of guilt or be placed on someone regardless of their guilt. Shame can develop in a victim of hurtful and abusive circumstances or in cases of torture. Furthermore, shame-based cultures exist. Shame seems to be a part of human socialization in all societies.

I understand the relevancy of conviction as experiencing guilt or shame for something we have done wrong. The fear of shame and guilt has prodded my conscience in critical moments enabling me to do the right, and often more challenging, thing. However, shame invokes a much deeper, defeated image. A person experiencing an abundance of shame cannot realize the blessing of their humanity nor the abundance of a life lived through the truth of bearing God’s image.

My Catholic past may have invoked guilt sometimes reminding me of God’s standards, but it also allowed me to live in my humanity and provided me with the means to release guilt through confession. The expectation was not Tara, perfect, sinless, super-human, but Tara, human being becoming more like Jesus, filled with successes and failures. Sin would enter my life, guaranteed, but sin and shame did not, and shall not, define my life.

Thus, I typically experience two levels of shame centered on one ideal: perfection. First, a self-generated shame provoked out of an emotional response: my disappointment in myself, and further, a feeling that I disappointed God. My image of God was a stern face, crossed-armed God standing over me, unhappy unless I felt ‘bad’ enough. He certainly would not forgive me until then, and even so, would begrudge me for the next time. Anything less then perfect was unacceptable. Now God’s image captures a ready extension of grace, love, forgiveness, but self-forgiveness is still a process for me. I think I demand more from me than God does.

Second, the church generates shame, because of a lack of acceptance (not of my sin or guilt), but in essence- me. The church reconstitutes disappointed, stern God while pronouncing the opposite. We assert the value of authenticity, vulnerability, and our admission as failed human beings. Yet, there seems to be little tolerance for failure and almost a meter of image control at its basis. In our guilt, we experience shame and realize “I can not tell them that. I should not be wrestling with this. This is not suppose to happen to me. What if they found that out about me?”

We become afraid to confess our sins to one another, because we are afraid of shame. Yet, confession is the very thing we need to do in order to escape the effects of shame. I have a favorite saying, “Only nasty things grow in the dark.” Consider pastors and leaders who have experienced moral and personal failures. They most likely felt the weight of perfection, knew their guilt, yet in a sense of shame, they could not confess their sins, because they were afraid of greater shame. Shame seems to operate like fire. The more you feed it, the more it consumes.

In my own life, I have realized if I truly believe there is no condemnation in Christ, I must readily own my mistakes, not with guilt, shame, or in self-defeat, but with humility, recognizing the freedom and power of the Christ’s cross and resurrection. I am alert to the moments when I feel that I cannot be myself or speak of my failures, because of what people might think. In these moments, I muster my strength and courage to move in the opposite spirit and confess. Image control generates shame, because we believe that we are disappointing, unacceptable, and insufficient as the human beings we are.

Yet, a gracious, perfect God delights, accepts, equips and loves me in ALL my imperfection and mess. He sees beauty in my humanity, and modeled grace perfected in my weaknesses. If He can accept me in the midst of my failures, should I not be willing to accept others in theirs?

Everybody Polka!

This is part of a journal entry series for a class taken in Spring 2007. Topics are addressed along with our image of God-- how the topic affects our image of God, how our image of God affects our life.

I love traveling, living amongst and studying other cultures (my undergrad minor). Culture is hard to define since just about everything we do, say, or think reflects or builds into culture. It maintains a certain foundation, yet is composed of sub-culture and shifts. As I write this entry, I will primarily speak from the cultural perspective that has influenced me the most (white, mid-class, strong Austrian influence, small town Midwesterner). Yet, I will also attempt to consider a wider cultural net.

Cultures are a beautiful thing. God created a multitude of cultures as He scattered people throughout the world, and gave them a variety of languages, yet preserving our humanity within culture. As I think about culture, it is easy to compare positive and frustrating experiences. However, I do this completely from my cultural standpoint. If my reaction to something is abhorrent, I must examine why I think that. Would God be abhorred?

Unfortunately, the church is still trying to understand Christianity cross-culturally. In the past, most missions meant imposing a cultural footprint upon those who accepted Christ. To accept Christ also meant, “Ok, now you have to become like us.” (Without ever really being able to do so, and maybe, even adopt some self-loathing. Repent that you’re Black, Hispanic, Asian, Poor, a Woman, etc.)

When I consider that someone must be like me, worship in my manner, and adopt the same cultural values, then God’s image becomes a white, mid-class, small town Midwesterner. A superiority is created, God values my culture, not yours. You must participate in Polka Mass to be acceptable. Equality in Christ becomes second to culture, class and race.

Missionary work has certainly taken strides away from the image of Spanish Conquistadors. However, the danger still lurks, because the majority of my formative church experience and influences are centered in this culture. I am forced to consider, “Is this the way it is suppose to be done, because that is what Christ desired or because that is the way the church does it?” This is evident at times in cross-cultural communion— is it not communion if you use mango juice and saltines? Or even issues of alcohol— American churches disagree on this issue, and culture complicates its consideration— is part of accepting Jesus to completely abstain? Must I be circumcised?

Up until this moment I considered God working very counter-cultural. I certainly think that God from the beginning has had a radical plan as to what culture and community looks like. He also moved very counter-cultural regarding socio-political and religious system (i.e., no poor among you, God as King). He desired to shape Israel as a nation of blessing, a nation to impact, and draw others to the one and only true God.

God also worked very much within the Jewish culture. Jesus came as a Jewish male to impact the Jews first and then the world. He also did things that were not culturally kosher: healing and talking to Gentiles, interacting with women, children, tax collectors and a general collection of sinners. All of this may have been counter-cultural, but I picture Jesus more as redefining culture especially considering the church in the early beginnings (Acts). Redefining not only who the people of God were, but also how the people of God truly lived in relationship with Him and one another. God did not come to abolish culture— he created it and embraces its diverse magnitude.

Even within our overarching American culture, I must consider what it truly means to live as the people of God. A polka mass is not a necessity to accepting Jesus or determining your eternal standing. How do I help redefine culture in my actions? Does being counter-cultural mean I must force everyone to do Christianity like I do? I grew up Catholic, stepped away from God, and after college, once again became a (Protestant) Christian. Although, I have been a Christian for 10 years, there are many things I do not understand about Church-culture. At times, this puts me culturally outside, but should there be inside and outside in Christianity? Is this the redefinition that God is calling us to— creating a culture where diversity is accepted, but lines of inside and outside are erased?

There are certainly aspects of all cultures that could surrender to God’s holy sovereignty; however, God does not expect or desire one big homogeneous, ‘white-washed’Publish Post polka-dancing blob. (Nothing wrong with a good Polka though!) Therefore, I must also be willing to embrace a variety of people, and be culturally aware considering our similarities and our differences. It is interacting with others that my image of God is tested and expanded. I must consider God a part of, yet, beyond my cultural parameters and social demographics.

Do you really want to know me?

This is part of a journal entry series for a class taken in Spring 2007. Topics are addressed along with our image of God-- how the topic affects our image of God, how our image of God affects our life.

Intimacy is typically thought of in emotional or physical/sexual aspects. However, physical intimacy also exists in a non-sexual way. Most physical intimacy grows from an emotional relationship first (and usually best). The familiarity and personal relationship with my family or friends allows me to be in closer physical contact with them than with others. I will primarily address emotional intimacy in this journal.

I do not want nor do I have intimacy with just anyone, despite my general openness or expressiveness. I know a wide-range of people and as much as I love people, I only heavily invest and trust a few to intimately know me. The range of intimacy varies even with people I consider to know me very well.

In one way, I am intimate with my family. However, my family is also very autonomous and independent. We go about our own lives. Yet, intimacy allows acceptance and easy forgiveness, especially in our ill-tempered moments of personal behavior. Since my family knows me, I am accepted even when others might ostracize me for intolerant behavior. They stick by me. In addition, my family fails to communicate feelings. Thus rather than talking, anger sometimes results in childish behavior (doors slamming, shutting down, pouting, etc.).

Thus, God was not necessarily invested in every day life. He was present for the “big stuff,” yet apathetic and inattentive in my daily life. It was easy to put distance between us at times out of anger (God’s or mine).

However, God’s image differs. Even when my behavior does not warrant His affection, He pursues me investing in my daily life and never as distant as He may seem. I have never felt as wanted by anyone as I do by God. God ontologically and intimately knows me, as well as the things I have only spoken to Him.

I expect a level of acceptance from the Church. When I should misspeak or behave a bit brash, I hope for quick forgiveness and a delay in typifying or ostracizing me. I anticipate a basic level of knowledge from the church, but not deep levels of intimacy.

The church, however, poses dualistic characteristics of God—near yet far, interested yet bothered, hopeful yet disappointed. I was led in relationship then discipled in religious routine-- a deep, relational intimacy required a disciplined, formulaic approach. It was implied that I must pray more, read, study, memorize, serve, etc. -- more-- in order to garner deeper, deeper levels of intimacy.

Disciplines are good and valuable, but is intimacy a result of discipline or intentionality? Is there a difference? Nevertheless, spiritual disciplines have helped me develop deeper biblical, theological, and relational knowledge of God; yet, I do not know if it has truly ignited intimacy. Especially as I consider a ‘more’ formula has not worked in developing intimacy within other relationships. Is God’s image steeped in self-interest, in what ‘more’ I can do for Him? He wants all of me, yet more? If He has all of me, I have no more to give Him.

Nor does intimacy always takes place in working up deep, emotional expression. The depth of my relationship with God should not be measured by how often I shed tears, raise my hands, or say, “Praise the Lord.” I find value with God and friends in the gift to just “be,” and allowing them to also “be.”

Therefore, I expect deeper levels of intimacy with friends. The level of relationship sustains a few misspoken words or ill actions, but also works through personal challenges. We will not easily let each other slide with mediocrity, passiveness, or give up on each other when things do not quite go our way. My friends have shown me a greater image of God. He does not give up on you. He allows you to express yourself, and shows grace, love, patience, and mercy without sacrificing integrity and righteousness.

Intimacy seems to be discussed in linear and egocentric terms, but true intimacy is in each person knowing and trusting the other. It goes beyond my desire of really, truly being known and accepted, because my heart’s desire extends to really, truly knowing someone else as well.

I know I experience levels of intimacy, yet feelings are unsustainable. At times, I do not know what it looks like or how to achieve it, yet I have it. Thus, the truth is I do not understand what intimacy is ‘suppose’ to feel like. Some people have expressed feeling closer to me than I ever do with them. I have had close friends say they feel like they “really don’t know me.” What do they feel like they really need to know in order to accomplish that? I do not think that it can be accomplished in a statement or linear terms, but developed over-time as trust is built, experiences, feelings, and thoughts shared. Likewise, I do not expect to know everything about them. I have a close friend whom I have known since Junior High. I know her well, yet she still surprises me and I am continually getting to know her more.

Intimacy is a frightening dance. At times, I certainly hold off my relationships while cautiously moving forward or waiting to see if a friend is also moving closer or into a deeper level of intimacy with me as well. True intimacy requires the mutual engagement of both parties. It is a scary thing to invest oneself, especially after having suffered rejection or terrible hurt in intimate friendships.

Yet, God suffers hurt. God takes risk in loving. I think God sees intimacy as an immersion experience rather than linear. Like wading into a lake, He eventually wants all of me immersed in intimate relationship with Him. He does not violently rush in pasts my boundaries but nurtures me into a loving relationship as I move deeper with Him.

I can have intimacy with a very present, near God without always ‘feeling intimate.’ I can grow to know God more, but because He’s infinite I will never fully know God. My relationship with God helps me to know myself better and produces a greater ease in developing intimacy with Him and others.

Although there are moments where I feel inadequate, truly incapable, and frightened in developing intimacy, I deeply long for it and my relationship with God has spurred me on in developing intimacy with others and making real intimacy more feasible. I do not enter in relationships unwisely, but I hope I take the risk of offering a sincere and genuine heart filled with Christ’s love.