Is Shame Ever a Good Thing?
The difference between being shame-free and shameless and the tension I hope never fully resolves in your life.
“Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame.” Psalm 34:5
Last weekend, our son performed at his school’s talent show. He’d been practicing Für Elise on the piano for months (which made a great soundtrack for cooking). He worked his reps to imprint it to memory, leaving no risk to chance that he’d get it wrong. The show is not obligatory. He volunteered himself for this level of prep and agony. And as we drove to his school the night of the performance and sat waiting in the car, his nerves trembled with the fear of facing a gym full of his peers and their parents. “Oh, why did I do this? I think I might throw up.”
Other than reassuring him this was hard and I was proud of his risk, I sat crippled with how to offer more comfort to him. I realized I could in no way rescue him from the inherent tension of taking these kinds of risks. I had to let him feel it out. We are made to want to rise to glory, to become more than we are right now. We are made to shine and be noticed for our brilliance or beauty or brawn, our talents and hard work. This was the courageous risk my son had taken. And yet, on the path to being seen and celebrated, we all face the terror of being exposed, embarrassed or shamed. The two risks go hand in hand. To reach for glory, we face the risk of shame.
Let me be clear: I don’t believe shame is ever a good thing. Put good shame in the category of snake oils we’ve been sold. I have never ever watched shame do any good in anyone’s life. It’s toxic through and through. Healthy shame is as oxymoronic as an Alaskan beach vacation. I whole heartedly agree with this salvo of a sentence from Curt Thompson:
“Shame is the emotional weapon that evil uses to corrupt our relationships with God and each other, and disintegrate any and all gifts of vocational vision and creativity.” Curt Thompson
Right away you might say, “I thought guilt was a good thing and necessary for us to grow.” Yes, it is. But guilt and shame are vastly different experiences. Paul makes this distinction himself between what he calls worldly sorrow (shame) and Godly sorrow (guilt). “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death” (2 Corinthians 7:10). Death and regret versus rescue and change. That’s not a subtle difference! I love how he goes on to describe the fruit of real guilt, “You’re more alive, more concerned, more sensitive, more reverent, more human, more passionate, more responsible” (2 Corinthians 7:11 MSG). Do you hear how much life and growth conviction brings?
The irony here then is that real guilt doesn’t really feel like guilt. I think when most people say, “I feel so guilty,” they are actually feeling shame. The conviction of God moves you to action and growth and life. Yes, it might lead to pain and tears and hard work, too. But it is not intended to shut you down or cripple you with regret and make you feel dead inside. Shame does that. It disintegrates people. Research shows that shame actually feels terrifying and traumatic to the body. And that’s why shame is always a bad thing.
But here’s the unbearable tension. While shame is never a good thing, the capacity for shame is a really good thing. Say what? The capacity for shame is really the capacity for vulnerability. No, we don’t need to feel shame, but we do need to feel our vulnerability and the courage it takes to risk on love. It’s risky to put your heart out there. In fact, the word vulnerable means “able to be wounded.” Vulnerability is the only way to receive love. And yet, shame always attacks vulnerability and tries to wound us there.
That’s the unbearable tension. When we open ourselves to being seen in a relationship, we will either experience shame or love. We don’t experience either alone (unless we are imagining someone else). They both have to do with eyes. We describe love as “feeling seen.” And likewise people often describe shame as “feeling exposed.” Put another way, love and shame both flow from our risk on people and their response to us. We all want to be seen. We don’t want to be exposed. Oh, what a wild agony to live with! Like a good warrior, on the path of risk, we must be alert to where shame wants to attack.
Know what we callthe people that don’t risk vulnerability? Shameless (which is a weird word given that being shame-free is a good thing). Why shameless? Because they don’t show any struggle with shame because something in them is cold and shut off to relationship. A shameless act is one in which someone’s awareness of others has been lost altogether. We don’t feel their openness and humanness. They have hidden their vulnerable side—the part of them open to connection with others. They are the arrogant. The proud. Even the monsterous.
Think of a dictator who demands people hold a parade for him under penalty of imprisonment or death. He is trying to achieve glory and celebration by means of sheer control and no vulnerability. Shameless. That goes for anyone who tries to achieve praise by means of control and not vulnerable relationship. You can’t thieve love or pillage praise. It comes only to those who risk the heart. It is (and should be) a haunting experience to meet someone who is so closed off they feel no flinch or risk of shame. Shameless is a right insult.
Here’s my hope for you: I want you to be free of shame. I want you to fight shame wherever you find it. But never live shameless. I know that sounds so confusing and crazy. Let me explain: I want you to keep risking your good and wild vulnerability. You were made to be seen and celebrated. Fight every accusation that assails you along the way. But do not shamelessly fake it and hide your real self behind an unflappable exterior. Be real. Be human. Take the risk of exposing yourself. In the end, no matter the outcome, the worst you will reveal is a human still learning and growing like the rest of us. There’s no shame in that.
To be free of shame, we must learn to listen to the desire that’s buried underneath it. Steward that desire like pure gold (it is the gold of your heart!). Shame always comes to assault the moments we are living alive and full of desire. So instead of letting shame narrate, what’s the story desire is telling? Turn the tables on your shame and tell the story from the vantage point of your desire. At the time shame attacked, what did you want or what desire was alive in you? If you can own and love that desire, you can be free of shame.
That’s what I knew in the car as I sat with my son. By planting himself on a piano bench on a stage in a room full of eyes, he was risking a chance to be seen and shine with an open heart. This was the real deal. And I knew his nerves were the sure sign of his authentic heart. I did and will always offer comfort to those kinds of risks for him. And boy, it made this father proud to see him show up to shine with a full and vulnerable heart. You’ll be happy to know he played his heart out and he played well. And the crowd gave him the uproar of applause.
Thank you for reading! As always, if this spoke to you, please share it with someone.
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I won't be able to be part of the discussion because of travel, but I would also love to hear you speak on the deeply gendered way that we moderns use the word 'shameless.' Meaning using the word in reference to men tends to evoke the dictator image that you referenced--a certain twisted and unassailable idea of power. Use the word in reference to a woman, however, and you have images not of dictatorship, but of harlotry. Especially as this relates to your broader topic, I'd love to hear you discuss this more.
Good stuff Sam! I would like to join the conversation, but in case I can't make it - I would like to offer up a thought. In Adam Young's series on "How to engage someone who's harmed you" he mentions that the response to a "wicked person" is to shame them (I think he gets this idea from Allender's Bold Love). Curious to know your thoughts on that. Would you say that the "shameless" person = "wicked" person and the loving thing to do is to jolt that person into feeling shame and rejoining relationship? Or....?