
In my previous essay on guilt and shame, I discussed their nature and differences, their impact on personal and social life, and their centrality to much of our individual unhappiness and communal dysfunction. If shame is the common thread of the human condition — fraught with pain, suffering, and evil — it must be mastered and overcome if we are to bring a measure of joy to life and peace to our spirits and social interactions.
Shame is the most private of personal emotions, thriving in our souls’ dark, secluded lairs. It is the secret never told, the fears never revealed, the dread of exposure and abandonment, our harshest judge and most merciless prosecutor. Yet, like the Wizard of Oz, the man behind the curtain is far less intimidating than his booming voice in our subconscious mind.
The power of shame is the secret; its antidotes are transparency and grace. Shame thrives in the dark recesses of the mind, where its accusations are amplified by repetition without external reference. Shame becomes self-verifying as each new negative thought or emotion reinforces the theme of our rejection and worthlessness. This vicious cycle may only be broken by allowing the light of openness, trust, and honesty.
The barriers to this liberating openness are fear and mistrust: fear that revealing our darkest selves will lead to rejection, pain, and humiliation, and a lack of trust that sharing such darkness will be used against us to our detriment. This anxiety and distrust locks us into a self-imposed prison from which there is seemingly no escape. Our only recourse becomes the adaptive but destructive defenses of withdrawal, self-attack, avoidance, or aggression.
The most dangerous infections in medicine occur in a closed space. As the bacteria grow, they generate increasing pressure, which drives deadly toxins into the bloodstream. The infection can only be treated and health restored by uncovering and draining the abscess. And so it is with shame: we must take that which is most painful and most toxic and release it, lest we become even more emotionally and spiritually sick.
How do we go about such a process? It should not be done lightly, as the world remains dangerous and sometimes hostile, and many cannot bear such disclosure — and who may use it against us? For this reason — this reasonable fear (amplified many times over in the echoes of our inner chambers of shame) — many will not take this step until life circumstances become so difficult or painful that they have no other choice. Hence, you will find this process first in the alcoholic at his bottom, at the therapist for intractable depression, at the counselor after divorce, and in the prodigal son seeking fellowship in a grace-based church or small group.
But we need not wait for such disasters before beginning to address shame. There are several principles to begin the journey from shame to sanity and peace. Here are a few that come to mind:
- Sharing of shortcomings with trusted friends: First and foremost, we must be willing to open the door and begin sharing something of our inner selves with others. We must find someone trusted, a good listener, and not quick to judge. This means taking some risks, as many people may be unwilling — or unable — to be safe harbors for our vulnerabilities, failures, and shortcomings. Test the waters by sharing some minor issues with others who seem trustworthy — or perhaps even better, by being open to others willing to share their pain in some small way with you. Nothing builds the trust of others quite like your own vulnerability: it signals a willingness to establish a relationship based on true intimacy. We all put our best foot forward, expending tremendous energy at maintaining our masks. But at the same time, we all hunger for the intimacy of being truly open with one another.
- Learn to listen: Our isolation lessens when we hear our story repeated by others. As we start to hear the bits and pieces of our own experiences, failures, and struggles in the lives of others, the uniqueness — and the shame — of our own experiences lessens. We develop compassion for the struggles of others — and thereby become willing to accept our shortcomings. To become mutually vulnerable is the essence of genuine, intimate relationships — and to achieve this, we must be willing both to share our own weaknesses and to accept those of others.
- The importance of forgiveness: When you become open to others, trusting them, you will sooner or later get hurt — perhaps intentionally, more likely inadvertently. Count on it; it’s a sure bet. Once it happens, you then have some choices: you can withdraw, no longer expose yourself to the pain, strike back, or carry resentment. These approaches are proven shame-builders: they do little or nothing to take revenge on our offenders but replay the injury repeatedly (re-SENT-ment: to experience — to feel — again), reinforcing our loneliness and worthlessness. Forgiveness allows you to move on. It may mean confronting the one who has hurt you — a terrifying thought for a shame-based person — but such courage pays off in restoring relationships at best or maintaining your dignity at worst. Courage is not acting without fear; it is acting in spite of fear. It is the best antidote, as reality is rarely as bad as the scenarios our fearful minds fabricate. Bear the pain, reconcile where possible, and move on from there.
- Other-orientation: We are designed to give, but have been programmed to receive. We try to fill our inner emptiness by seeking material stuff, the attention and admiration of others, pleasure, the oblivion of drugs or alcohol, food, sex, success, achievements in work or society. None of it works — the emptiness remains, as we are not worth something because we have something. We become worth something when we give — when our actions and efforts are helping others, improving their lives, and giving them joy, help, comfort, and support. This generosity reveals why someone like Mother Theresa experienced a richness in life unmatched by endless hosts of wealthy celebrities or business billionaires. We nod, agreeing that this is so — but no one wants to walk her path: we lack her faith and calling. But we don’t need to move to Calcutta to start down the same path: we can begin in small ways, one little act at a time. Try to help someone out each day, somebody who doesn’t deserve it, perhaps someone you don’t like or would rather avoid. Do it when you’re too busy, self-absorbed, or too tired. Do it willfully, not grudgingly. Don’t do it with any expectation of return. Try it — and watch miracles happen in your life and those around you.
- Grace and mercy: Grace is receiving what we do not deserve; mercy is not receiving what we do deserve. Shame tells us we deserve nothing good, that we are tried, convicted, and condemned by ourselves and others. Grace defeats shame by not waiting until we are worthy, worthwhile, or “fixed” but by accepting us right where we are, just as we are. It must be experienced — you cannot appropriate it using logic, reason, will, or effort. It is, indeed, anti-logical. It starts when you tell a friend a painful, dark secret — and hear that he or she has done far worse. It begins with terror at relating humiliating events and ends with laughter and perspective about those same events. It arrives when you tell of hurting another and receive not condemnation but understanding and guidance on repairing the damage and restoring relationships. And it shatters the gloom like shafts of light through broken clouds when the God whom you have driven away and abandoned — a God in whom you have lost all hope and confidence — instead wraps His arms around you in tears of joy at your return. When you have experienced such grace, your life will never be the same again.
- The role of faith: People struggling with guilt and shame often turn to religion for answers and relief. This religious pursuit is not invariably a wise decision: religion can enormously benefit from overcoming these liabilities — but it can also greatly exacerbate them. Guilt and shame are the golden hooks of toxic religion and religious cults, and even mainstream religious denominations that have a highly legalistic emphasis can cause far more harm than good. Cults and toxic religion lure the wounded by offering “unconditional love” — which later proves very conditional indeed. You are accepted only when you rigorously follow the rules — which may be arbitrary, capricious, or even unspoken — and interaction with “unbelievers” outside the sect is severely restricted, leading to isolation, ritualism, and depersonalization — and severe rejection should you elect to leave. Becoming enmeshed with such groups, driven by shame, proves highly destructive and a recipe for personal and emotional disaster. But true grace-based faith and spirituality can transform shame into service and guilt into gratitude. It finds the balance between a just God and One who is merciful. It is a place where love accepts us with all our imperfections and shortcomings — yet desires their removal so that we may live with more joy and purpose, not hiding our flaws but using our own brokenness to restore, heal, and lift up others.
There was, the story goes, a holy man who sat by the side of the road praying and meditating. As he watched and prayed, the broken of the world passed by — the crippled, the lame, the ragged poor, the sick, the blind. In his prayer, with broken heart, he asked God, “How could such a good and loving Creator see such things and do nothing about them?”
Our shame, our brokenness, brings us great pain and wreaks much destruction in our lives. Yet by this very means, God equips us to be His hands, heart, voice, and compassion. As such, we can find a purpose in life unmatched by anything else we might wish for or desire. Such are the ways of the God of endless surprise and limitless grace.