You’re sitting in church feeling a little more nervous than normal. If you had known that the sermon was going to be about that, you might have decided to stay in bed this morning. But there it is, front and centre on the service outline. What should you do? Thinking at a speed that would normally startle you, you hit upon the perfect strategy: talk to others about ‘it’ before they talk to you. If you start the conversation and talk about how you struggle with ‘it’ before they raise the topic, you’re home free! People will think you’re godly and open, and you’ll be able to walk away feeling good about yourself without having to change a thing. The best defence is a good offence.
If you don’t recognize this story, you’re either much more godly or much less devious than me (and probably both). It’s a little scenario that plays itself out in churches all over the world every Sunday.
I was reminded of this piece of relational deception when I read Emily Maguire’s article ‘Too much information‘ in my local paper the other day. The article is about the tendency for people to reveal too much information about themselves to complete strangers. She says,
At a recent dinner function, I was seated next to a stranger who told me about her divorce, abortion, gynaecological troubles, abusive childhood and teenage sexual experimentation all before the main course was served. I responded with polite interest and sympathy but cheerfully declined to reciprocate with confessions of my own. Later, I learnt that this woman had found me “uptight” and “secretive”.
Apparently in our up-to-date world, you have to be willing to share your deepest secrets with a perfect stranger, just like the celebrities do. There’s no ‘privacy’ any more.
Why does this happen? I can’t prove it, but I suspect people at dinner parties do this for the same reason we do it in church on Sunday: if you seize the initiative, it removes the guilt. It’s all about the difference between hypocrisy and shamelessness (an idea that I owe entirely, and borrow shamelessly, from my old pastor Phillip Jensen). Hypocrisy involves saying one thing and then doing the opposite thing entirely. Hypocrisy is an awful thing, and most of us dislike it intensely; it’s just plain ugly. But hypocrisy is actually better than shamelessness. Hypocrisy at least agrees that there is something that we are supposed to be doing that we are not. Shamelessness, on the other hand, is about declaring that the thing we should be ashamed of is actually our glory. Shamelessness means taking what is perceived as bad and turning it into a virtue. It’s a way of removing guilt and shame.
Now, of course, shamelessness can be both positive and negative. In Australia in the 80s and 90s, certain ethnic communities took the sting out of racial slurs by using the slurs positively. In Australia, the word ‘wog’ had long been a derogatory term for people of southern European and eastern European background (particularly those living along the Mediterranean, such as the Italians, Greeks and Spanish). In the late 80s, a group of comedians took the term and began to use it positively; they created a hit TV show Wogs Out of Work. Suddenly, because of their public shamelessness, the source of shame became a source of pride. People began calling themselves wogs, and the stigma was largely removed. The same path has been pursued with great success by the gay and lesbian community.
What has all of this got to do with us? Well, there is little doubt that we live in a world that wants to remove any concept of guilt completely. Guilt is the great opponent of self-esteem. And the best way to be rid of guilt is to act shamelessly. The unfortunate effect has been to make guilt and shame private and personal categories. Well, almost! Of course, there are still categories of public guilt and shame, like believing in God’s sexual ethics and believing in absolute right and wrong. It is tempting to think that Christianity has been sidelined, and that Christians should keep their heads down and accept the new status quo. This leads, in many cases, to quiet acquiescence to the ideas of the day or to a general sense of nostalgia about other and better days. But the simple fact is we all live in societies with their own conceptions of guilt and shame—conceptions that have been changing ever since Jesus walked the earth. Christians in the west have lived for centuries in a world where God’s conception of appropriate guilt and shame have been (largely) shared by our world. Increasingly this is not so, and so we are often challenged to feel ashamed of the things are most important to God.
But as I read the Bible, I don’t think our world is all that different from Jesus’ world. Paul speaks to the Philippians about people opposed to the cross using these words: “their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things” (Phil 3:19). Peter tells his readers not to worry that they live in a world where people “are surprised when you do not join them in the same flood of debauchery” (1 Pet 4:4). Shamelessness was part of life for the early Christians. The apostles encouraged them to stick with God’s truth and to live for righteousness. They were to work at being shamelessly committed to God’s gospel.
The problem is, of course, that shamelessness is a two-edged sword. It’s possible to use shamelessness to defend ourselves against the truth—to protect ourselves from being changed by the word of God—just like in our opening illustration. And it’s also possible to be rightly shameless in standing up for the truth and holding onto the gospel of Jesus. When it comes to proclaiming Christ, the best defence is a good offence. When it comes to responding to God’s word, our offence can become a terrible defence that keeps us from being transformed.
So how’s your shamelessness going? Are you shameless about the right things or the wrong things? Are you being shameless about your sin, or about the gospel of God?
Ouch, Paul! I think I am guilty sometimes of this taking the initiative to confess a struggle with some sin (often crafted of course – partly consciously, and sometimes almost subconsciously – to obscure the worst bits).
As is so often the case, when I reflect, there’s a mix of motives. Partly, it’s engaging with the genuine struggle with sin. Partly, it can be framing it, so I can keep accountability to others, or just my own personal feelings of failure at arm’s length.
Thanks for the post.
What thoughts do you have though, about genuinely confessing your struggle with sin, and – for pastors and leaders – about modeling honesty in the struggles – as Paul does for example – without giving too much information. I want to minimise the opportunities for false modesty or self-justification or just keeping the issue and accountability at arm’s length?
Just as a follow up, I am reading John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine & Doxology edited by Burk Parsons and published for the 500th anniversary of his birth this year. This is an accessible and non-technical book by pastors and scholars to expose us to the real Calvin and not simply Calvinism as a system reduced to five points and a caricature. So far so good, although I’m only into the first couple of chapters.
Anyway, in chapter 1, “The Humility of Calvin’s Calvinism”, Parsons writes
That’s Calvin apparently, and so much of it sounds right, but I still wonder about the passionate example of Paul (that’s the Apostle, not you, Grimmo) who often revealed his heart and spoke of his struggles – both for himself and for others – and said that people knew all about his way of life, and even to imitate him as he imitated Christ.
Anyway, Paul (Grimmo), I may be taking your post off on a tangent, in which case, feel free to remove my remarks and start a new thread with them on a subsequent day!
Hi Sandy,
Thanks heaps for your post and I don’t think it takes us off track at all. The tension is genuinely there in the Biblical revelation. We are to be real and honest with each other but need to keep remembering that the truth about God is found in the gospel and not in voyeuristically enjoying other people’s struggles.
I must admit then, that my following piece of advice is a principle that I only adhere to on my better days with the strength of the Holy Spirit.
My general rule has been to try to share what I think will be genuinely encouraging and what I have already tried to engage with God about. In other words, if I haven’t confessed it to God, then I shouldn’t confess it to you. And I need to ask two questions (1) Am I doing this for myself or the other? – if the answer is myself, then now isn’t the time to disclose (even if it would be genuinely helpful) – for myself includes things like my desire to get it off my chest and feel better about it, my desire to impress others by my humility, and even my desire to get people listening to my preaching because a personal story always gets people’s attention (we are so sinful aren’t we?!). (2) Will this genuinely benefit others in the congregation? (we don’t always get this right, but it is the right question to ask).
I would love to hear from other people on this one.
Grimmo.
Paul,
I have been aware of this tendency in myself for a long time – which won’t surprise anyone who reads my blog! I knew I was protecting myself in some way by telling others the worst about myself, but couldn’t figure out how. Thank you for spelling it out.
At the same time, like you, I can see the value of honesty about my sin when it benefits others.
I found your practical comments in response to Sandy’s comment, on how to know when openness about my sin is appropriate or inappropriate, very helpful. Would you consider turning them into a practical follow-up post? I know I would appreciate it as I think about how to be godly in this area!
I discussed similar issues about honesty and self-diclosure here and here in response to Simone’s post here: have a look, I’m sure you’ll be interested. I’d like to hear your comments on my list of “7 ways honesty helps”, if you have a moment – do you agree? Would you add anything?
Thanks again for reminding me to keep thinking hard before I open my mouth – or press “post”!
Yours in Christ,
Jean.
Hello
I’m a young briefing reader in the UK.(Is 25 still young?)
That was a very thought provoking post. It is a fine and prayerful line to follow, particularly in the case of the pastors! Mainly because, not only does the pastor need to carefully evalutate his reasoning behind ‘sharing sin’ with the congregation, but also the congregations own sinful slant that may follow!
I know that on some occassions that members of the congregation have indeed been encouraged of a pastors honesty in a particular struggle, which has helped to give fresh desire to peservere with our own sin.
However, in other Christians, the admission of sin, has led to a sense of misplaced comfort. ie.“Oh well if even the <em>pastor is struggling, then then I’m not doing so bad” and they feel free to leave that area of sin unsurrendered and unattempted.
I don’t know if this is helpful at all, but wanted to attempt to join the disccussion. Perhaps my experience is due to a time spent at a ‘holiness movement’ church where performance inspired by endless guilt, which then led to inertia and hopelessness, were prevalent!
Hi Jean and Sophie,
Thanks heaps for your contributions. I will respond briefly to each.
Jean: I loved your seven points but I think I found your last point (after the 7) most helpful! Honesty is indeed a starting point rather than an end point. As with all things, the motivations of our heart and the desire to love God and love our neighbour will tell us whether our honesty has been well used or abused. Honesty must be a step towards obedience or it becomes like 1Cor 13:1-3, a clanging cymbal!
Sophie: Thanks so much for entering the discussion. From where I’m sitting, 25 is still pretty young (he says longingly – what has happened to the last decade?) One of the things that your post reminds me of is to keep praying for the work of God’s Holy Spirit in people. Sin is so devious and deep seated that it can even turn the truth into weapon. Someone can seriously, faithfully and wisely share the truth about their lives and we can still turn it into an excuse to stop struggling with sin.
Your post also made me think a bit about some stuff I have been reading lately about changed hearts. External rules don’t deal with the problem and so legalism never works. I think that there’s probably another post in that, so I will say more soon.
Grimmo.
ouch! thanks for that.