More than probably anything else, shame is the junk beneath the junk in our lives. It’s a powerful motivator and at the same time, terrible at solving problems and bringing peace. It’s also an elusive enemy. Too often we don’t see it or realize its incredible influence over us.
If you find that you’re often considered a “perfectionist”, an “all or nothing thinker”, have a tendency to keep people at arms length, or that you are “hard on yourself”, then you’re likely far more affected by shame than you know or care to admit. If you feel dirty, irredeemable, rejected, like an outsider, less-than, insecure, worthless–the list could go on and on–you and shame have been probably living together for a while now.
Shame is more complicated than just bad thoughts and feelings. It’s an entire experience that can shake a person at the deepest levels of the soul. Moreover, feeling “bad” isn’t always or necessarily a bad thing, despite what you’ve likely heard. Over the years, while standing on the shoulders of others, I’ve noticed a few things. So, I’d like to outline for you the anatomy of shame. Let’s make some sense out of a complex issue and then talk about hope.
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Guilt v. shame
Before defining shame itself, we need to differentiate shame from guilt. These get confused with one another quite often. When someone says, “I feel guilty” we usually know what they mean. But really, what they’re describing is shame. Guilt itself is a fact. It’s a legal and forensic reality. You either are guilty or you are not. You either transgressed or you didn’t.
Not only can guilt and shame be conflated, but sometimes we believe we’re guilty when in fact we’re not. We submit ourselves to illegitimate laws, place ourselves underneath unauthorized authorities, and accept the condemnation these contrived courts pronounce over us. So we think of ourselves as guilty and experience the shame that comes with it.
Of course, there are legitimate authorities established by God, and you are commanded to obey them (Matt. 16:13-20; 18:15-20; Mark 12:17; Rom. 13:1-2; 1 Pet. 2:13-14; Eph. 5:21-22; 6:1-3; Heb. 13:17; 1 Thess. 5:12-13; cf. Jer. 29:7) insofar as you’re not being asked to disobey God (Acts 5:29). What I’m referring to instead is the expectations and requirements of people that are given the weight of law, when in fact God hasn’t asked those things of you (Matt. 15:9). Sometimes these “laws” come from others, sometimes from ourselves. Either way, we believe lies and make promises we can’t keep.
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Distinguishing Shame
But there’s still more to untangle here. If you ask the prevailing culture about shame you’ll mostly hear too many voices with too much heat and not enough light. Sadly, there are people who will use the word “shame” as a weapon to (ironically) shame others, and in the process drown out those who are truly suffering. They may even become such a distraction that those who should be ashamed end up off the hook. If you ask current medicine you’ll hear about feelings of worthlessness and excessive or inappropriate guilt. Yet, in an attempt to force objective criteria upon matters of subjectivity, you won’t find any glossary to define the associated terms or any clear and agreed upon thresholds for measuring when something’s become “excessive” or “inappropriate”. And I want to be clear here–I believe the research that’s been done over the past century or more into matters of human neurology, behavior, and functioning are in many ways good. It’s good to study God’s creation including his image-bearers, especially when that research stays in its lane. This means sticking to the “whats” and the wonders of God’s material creation rather than the metaphysical “whys” of things belonging to the immaterial creation and the divine–yet doing so without dismissing or mocking the immaterial and spiritual.
So, then, how should we define shame? Unsurprisingly, the Bible gives us some robust discussion on the matter. Over time, I’ve noticed these seem to fall into three general categories.
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Shame as conviction
First, shame can present as conviction. In a world where people believe they should never have to feel ashamed of anything, conviction reveals that not all shame is bad. In fact, this kind is very good. Conviction comes from God, whether that be in a common restraining of evil kind of way, or in a redemptive repentance unto life kind of way. Conscience is a good thing, especially when made wise by the Holy Spirit.
Conviction can come in two forms: 1) conviction of the truth; and 2) conviction of sin. These are obviously two sides of the same coin. We can’t separate them but we can distinguish between them.
First, we can speak more generally about conviction of the truth. This includes conviction of sin but it can also refer to simply agreeing with God about something of which you were previously ignorant or unskilled. Perhaps there’s a biblical truth you learn from a pastor or member of your church that you hadn’t known or understood before. Upon being presented with the truth, you see it and agree with it. In that way, you agree with God and are sanctified “in the truth” of God’s Word (John 17:17) and its general wisdom. Sometimes we just don’t know what we don’t know, so we don’t know to look for it. This is one reason why sound doctrine and the local church are so absolutely necessary to our spiritual health (Tit. 2:1; Heb. 10:24-25). When the Lord in his kindness places you amongst brothers and sisters that benefit you in new ways, that is a wonderfully helpful means of conviction. This also happens, of course, at the time of a person’s conversion alongside their conviction of sin. They don’t only see their sin, they see and receive the grace and mercy of God in Christ and they trust him. God’s love and mercy are impressed upon them and that truth is their joy (1 Pet. 1:6-9). When the Spirit brings the gospel to someone effectually, he does so with power and “full conviction” (1 Thess. 1:5).
Second, we can speak more specifically about conviction of sin. We see this all over the Bible. Real faith and repentance require this kind of Spirit-wrought conviction. For instance, David prays after his famous blunder with Bathsheba that, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psa. 51:17). Jesus commends, “Blessed are those who mourn,” that is, over their sin, “for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4). And John tells us, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:8-9).
Notice that true and lasting conviction is always something produced in us by the Spirit, as a response to the gospel. It never stops at feeling bad about our sin but always goes that most glorious step further–to faith in Christ. We lay down our sin and our ignorance at the feet of Jesus and admit, with empty hands, we are needy, helpless people. There is no pride in it that tries to be good enough on its own or to make up for failures by oneself. No, true conviction casts its cares upon Christ (1 Pet. 5:7) and gives him that burden (Matt. 11:28-30), knowing that he cares for his people. It accepts with humility the gift of grace that we could never earn or achieve no matter how hard we try (Rom. 3:27-31; Eph. 2:8-10).
If you struggle with shame, this second kind may feel like a far more familiar way to encounter conviction than the first kind. But be careful here. There is a kind of shame that may feel similar or even the same as conviction, but in reality is quite different.
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Shame as self-righteousness
There is a more sinister kind of shame. Something that comes from our own sin but isn’t taken to Christ. Instead, our response to our sin is to relate to shame in self-righteousness. That is, we attempt to deal with our sin problem on our own, in our own strength, without Christ.
Self-righteous shame also comes in two forms: 1) attempts to establish one’s own righteousness by good works; and 2) attempts to atone for one’s own unrighteousness by way of self-punishment. These will typically present together but can at times present separately.
First, self-righteous shame comes from a desire to earn, in part or in whole, our own righteous standing before God, ourselves, or others (John 12:43; Luke 16:15). We actively attempt to justify ourselves. We try to be good or good enough by our own estimation. We make our own rules and standards. We may shift blame when we’re guilty. We take God’s holy Law and minimize it–shrink it down to a level we can attain–and in that way our legalism is lawlessness (Matt. 7:21-23; 23:1-36). This posture of heart flies in the face of the imputation of Christ’s active obedience. That is, the righteousness that Christ achieved for us and credited to us, whether we know it or not, is something we seek to supplement or supplant, and in so doing we scorn his work for us. Do you “need” to be the best? To “win”? To know it all about your “thing”? Do you look down on those who don’t care as much as you do or do as well or as much as you do about that “thing”? Do you minimize the importance of things you aren’t great at, but elevate the things you do well? Are you trying to prove something about yourself? If you don’t achieve or display your competence, is it devastating? To whatever degree you see yourself when I ask these questions, you have some self-righteousness in you that needs to die.
Second, self-righteous shame comes from a desire to make up for, in part or in whole, our sin before God, ourselves, or others (Col. 2:23). We passively attempt to justify ourselves. We try to make atonement by punishing ourselves. This could look like self-sabotage, volitional isolation, or keeping ourselves from any number of good things. It could look like physically harming our bodies, repeatedly giving in to an addiction over time, or restricting what is good for our bodies like food or cleanliness. Most often it looks like self-loathing thoughts and beliefs about oneself. We silently beat ourselves to a pulp and give in to lies that contradict God’s Word and gospel. This posture of heart flies in the face of the imputation of our sin onto Christ by his passive (think “passion” like suffering, not disengaging) obedience on the cross. That is, the sins that Jesus died to forgive, whether we know it or not, is something we seek to augment or replace with our own suffering. We say in our hearts that it is by our wounds that we are healed, rather than Christ’s (Isa. 53:5). Not only that, but we insult the image of God in us when we denigrate it in ourselves these ways (Gen. 1:27; 2:23-25; Psa. 139:13-18). And to God this is nothing to wink at, but instead it’s of great offense to him (Psa. 51:4; cf. 2 Sam. 11-12).
Most often, we’ll swing back and forth between these two attempts at self-righteousness. I usually see people begin with attempts at being good, followed by the inevitable failure of that strategy, and then the self-loathing punishment described above. And so a cycle begins. We sin, so we try to be better. We can’t be good, so we punish ourselves to make up for it. That doesn’t ever really work either, so we give up and give in to sin so we can feel better. And the cycle starts over again. Take some time right now to examine yourself on this one. Everybody has it to some degree. When do you tend toward this kind of thinking and acting? Look especially for patterns of besetting sin in your life that you’ve chronically had difficulty shaking.
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Shame that’s attributed
Attributed shame is a phantom–felt but not always seen. It comes to us by proxy. The guilt isn’t real but the experience of shame certainly is, so the guilt feels legitimate. Memories haunt us. Words and actions cut deep and we can’t seem to stop the bleeding. Someone else’s yuck gets all over us, and at some point we own it. Or for whatever reason, we believe something demeaning that isn’t true about us as image-bearers or as individuals. This fallen world hurts, and we think it’s because of something uniquely and especially broken about us. Sometimes others, even those we call friends, will blame us for things we didn’t invite into our lives (e.g., Job’s friends).
Anytime someone sins against us and we accept responsibility for it or identify with it we experience this kind of shame. This can likewise come from two sources: 1) others; and 2) ourselves.
First, the most obvious way that attributed shame can come upon us is when others sin against us or we are associated with someone or something that’s sinful or shameful. Anyone who’s been abused or the victim of a violent crime knows this all too well. Someone else committed horrible acts against you, and it can be extremely difficult to shake the thought that maybe you deserve to be treated this way by other people. Perhaps, you think, there’s something exceptionally worthless or disgusting about you that you would be the rightful recipient of this kind of behavior. “I must be the kind of person people treat that way.” You see yourself as fundamentally broken, dirty, and contemptible and everyone else around you can see it too–or so you think.
Second, we can attribute shame to ourselves illegitimately without the direct prompting of another’s sin. You simply believe a falsehood about God, yourself, and the reason things happen to you. The reasons one might fall into this kind of shameful thinking are too numerous and complex to discuss here, but suffice to say, this can happen for all sorts of reasons. Perhaps you’ve internalized something from earlier in your life that isn’t true. Possibly you’ve been poorly taught about who God is and why we suffer in this life. Maybe you don’t feel well and don’t know what to do with that pain. Or perhaps you have some confusion about distinctions between the law and the gospel.
In whatever you have attributed shame, you also have a choice. In Christ, you don’t have to bear that weight. You don’t have to let that shame rule you or define you. But you could if you’re not careful. At this point we need to ask: Will you address this attributed shame–that isn’t your fault–with self-righteousness, or with conviction of the truth?
Shame is a universal problem for fallen humanity, so no one is exempt. The question is not if you have any shame in your life, but instead, “Where do I have shame in my life?” Where have I associated myself with, or been associated with, what is shameful, dirty, foolish, worthless, rejected, etc.? Some of us will have more than others, but no one will be completely free of it. And if shame goes unaddressed it will bear rotten fruit, whether you’re willing to acknowledge or deal with it or not. So then, what to do about your shame?
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What is my only comfort in my shame?
Famously, the Heidelberg Catechism (1563) and after that the Baptist adaptation, An Orthodox Catechism (1680), asks and answers the following:
Q 1. What is your only comfort in life and in death?
A. That I am not my own, but belong–body and soul, in life and in death–to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven: in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him. [1]
I love that question and response because it so helpfully takes our heart’s eyes off ourselves and places them on Jesus. That movement of gaze from internal to glorious external is the key to overcoming and persevering in the shame experience. Too often we engage in what Jerry Bridges calls “morbid introspection”. [2] The prevailing culture around us may counsel you to look inside yourself for comfort, but anyone who’s honest with themselves knows this isn’t the answer. Look long enough and you’ll find your ugly stuff hidden behind the surface level veneers. And refusing to see it is no solution either. That’s like hearing you have cancer from the doctor but refusing to believe or act upon that news. You can pretend it isn’t there but it’s eating you up inside all the same.
This is the bad news. “None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God…no one does good, not even one” (Rom. 3:10-12). Left to ourselves there is no hope and there is no comfort of any lasting substance. But if there’s bad news, there might be good news too. Is there? Yes! Though the “wages of sin is death,” the Good News is that, “the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 6:23).
Focus with me for a moment on that phrase “in Christ Jesus”. We find this and similar phrases throughout the New Testament, and it’s meant to speak to us about our union with Christ. If you haven’t heard of the doctrine of our union with Christ, then you’re in for a treat. Union with Christ can be defined as “that intimate, vital, and spiritual union between Christ and His people, in virtue of which, He is the source of their life and strength, of their blessedness and salvation.” [3]
If you wanted a good summary phrase in Scripture it might be that, because of God, every true Christian is “in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Cor. 1:30). Every aspect of our salvation flows from this singular reality. This union between us and Jesus is mysterious and it’s Spiritual. That is, there’s a mystery to how the resurrected Christ can be as far away as heaven and yet at the same time as intimate and close as within us. And that mystery is explained (though no less incomprehensibly mysterious and wonderful) by our knowing that God the Holy Spirit within us is “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Col. 1:27; cf. Rom. 8:9-10; Eph. 3:16-17). Jesus promised to not “leave [us] as orphans” but “will come to you” (John 14:18). And how does he say he does this? By “the Helper, the Holy Spirit” (v. 26) who is himself “the Spirit of Christ” (Rom. 8:9; 1 Pet. 1:11; Gal. 4:6).
In this way, you are Christ’s and Christ is yours (1 Cor. 3:23). That is, you don’t belong to yourself. You belong, body and soul, in life and in death, to Christ your most faithful Savior. We are not most faithful; he is. And you are now indestructibly associated with Christ. All that is his is now also yours. His Father, his righteousness, his kingdom, his Spirit, his glory, his honor—and the list could go on. In him we have “every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” (Eph. 1:3).
You may already be putting the pieces together. If shame associates us with the marred identities and reputations of ourselves and others, then in our union with Christ we’re no longer associated with those things but are instead associated with him. And we can’t earn it or contribute in any way. It’s all of Christ and he alone gets the glory. You can’t do it…and you don’t have to. Thank God!
Have you sought to establish your own righteousness; to justify your existence? When we trust our righteous Messiah in all our weakness, we can be sure that our sins are removed and his refreshing presence is our good (Acts 3:19; Psa. 73:28). By taking on our sin and giving us his righteousness, “in him” we “become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). Have you attempted to atone for your own sin by punishing yourself? “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:10). Have you been shamed by others or crushed by your own self-loathing? Look to Jesus, “the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame” (Heb. 12:2).
You may have any number of reasons for why Christ should reject you. And yet, you must contend with Jesus himself who says that, “All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out…And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day” (John 6:37, 39).
The reality is that whatever you’ve done or think you’ve done can’t be worse than refusing the grace of God in Jesus Christ–not only for your justification at your conversion, but every single moment of every single day. His grace is relevant all the time and working in you all the time. Of course you don’t deserve it. So what? You’ve got two options: 1) in your pride try to be good enough on your own and assuredly fail; or 2) admit you can’t be good enough and accept the love God has shown you in Jesus (see Gal. 3:10-14). What right do you have to refuse him? So give up. Surrender to the King. And “whenever our heart condemns us” let us recall that “God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything” (1 John 3:20). Agree with God, not your own deceitful heart (Jer. 17:9). When everything in you says otherwise, remember Christ is truer. And when “we are faithless, he remains faithful–for he cannot deny himself” (2 Tim. 2:13). You can’t wiggle out of his loving arms, so stop trying.
And let me ask you one last question…Does that kind of grace and mercy compel you to sin and thumb your nose at the one who has loved you so perfectly? Of course not! Yes, sadly, you will sin. And, thankfully, you also never have to sin. Why? Because the law can’t condemn you anymore, and the Holy Spirit works effectually in you despite you until he completes that work in his time at the Day of Christ Jesus (Phil. 1:6). So be encouraged! You ultimately can’t mess this up. Let his kindness lead you to repentance as it’s meant to (Rom. 2:4). Yes, our sin has consequences in this life, age, and world. Make no mistake, your sin will find you out (Num. 32:23), God will not be mocked, and we all reap what we sow (Gal. 6:7-8). But that is in no way contradictory to the reality that God “does not deal with us according to our sins” (Psa. 103:10) and there is absolutely nothing that can separate God’s children from his love in Christ (Rom. 8:35-39). Even our sins and sufferings in this life he uses to produce in us “the peaceful fruit of righteousness” (Heb. 12:11). There is no eternal punishment or shame for any true Christian. No, that’s not fair. Again, thank God. We don’t want what fair would get us. We want grace–and that’s exactly what’s been given to us in Christ.
For further reflection…
Where have you resisted addressing shame in your own life? Have you examined your heart to see where shame is hiding? If you find yourself defensive or recoiling from these questions or anything in this article, why might that be? How might you be attempting to protect yourself from shame? Are you denying its presence in your life? Are you hiding behind your own talents, skill, aptitude, intelligence, or reputation? Have you faced the reality that God will address these things in you because he loves you, even if you don’t want him to? In what ways might you trust him to take care of you as you face these scary thoughts, memories, feelings, and experiences?
I recently preached a sermon on shame from the story of Peter’s denials of Jesus in Luke 22. If you’d like to think more about this topic and your own life, here’s a link to that sermon:
Footnotes
[1] I’ve chosen to quote Hercules Collins’ An Orthodox Catechism not only because of my own Reformed Baptist convictions, but because I find the wording to be a tad bit sweeter. [2] Bridges, Jerry. The Pursuit Of Holiness. Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2006 (p. 45). [3] Berkhof, Louis. Systematic Theology: New Edition Containing the Full Text Of Systematic Theology and the Original Introductory Volume To Systematic Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1996 (p. 449).