A Legacy of Shame

Recently Danielle at From Two to One wrote a powerful article describing a visit she and her husband made to an old slave fort in the country of Ghana. I won't try to retell her story; you must read it yourself in her own words. Her tale has remained in my mind since I first read it, disturbing my efforts to ignore unpleasant truths. One detail that she shared sticks out particularly: that over the dungeon where the captured Africans were held, abused, tortured and dehumanized until they were sold and shipped away, the white masters of the fort and the territory had their chapel. Danielle writes:

As they [the white masters] sang worship songs to the Almighty God, the captives who had been beaten and raped and tortured shouted for mercy and rescue.

How, I ask myself, could people who call themselves by the name of Jesus Christ engage in such behavior? How could they so casually worship God while under their very feet were hundreds of humans whom they had abused, raped and tortured and whom they were going to sell into lives of slavery to serve the economic interests of other white Europeans?

I asked my wife this question and she gently reminded me that humans have a remarkable ability to justify their behavior, often by dehumanizing others. The white masters didn't feel any sense of guilt because to them the black Africans were not really fellow humans. They were fundamentally inferior, even inhuman. Therefore it was not immoral to treat them as beasts. Worse still, these people who considered themselves Christian in some sense of the word turned to the book of Christians, the Bible, for justification of their actions. This book which speaks of God's love for humanity, which describes the great lengths to which God has gone to restore humanity—all of humanity—to harmony with the divine as it was intended, was read in such a way as to support the dehumanization, abuse and degradation of people created by that same God.

The painful truth is that one can read the Bible in that manner.

In fact the Bible has often been used to justify the mistreatment of various groups of people throughout history. One can cite verses in which slavery appears to be normal and acceptable. One can cite verses in which God commands one group of people to annihilate entire cities and other groups of people. One can cite verses in which a woman who has been raped must marry her rapist. One can cite verses to argue that women are subordinate to men. The list could continue. What troubles me is that I so rarely hear anyone in my circles speak of how they are bothered by these verses or how they are interpreted to justify and support the exclusion or abuse of entire groups of people. In the past year I have found a growing number of voices who do speak openly of this, but I'm still not hearing it from the pulpit, at least not very often.

Instead I continue to hear voices that call for the submission of women as the biblical model. I hear voices that would have us deny equality to women, homosexuals, immigrants and other groups. These voices cite the Bible as their authority, often pointing to specific texts as support. How does one interact with a text that can be so freely used to support the subjugation of other members of God's creation? How is it that the message of redemption, liberation, restoration and renewal are so often drowned by the voices of exclusion and privilege? What am I to do with this book that has been used to condone some of the most inhumane behavior humans have committed?

I'm not sure we really have learned much since the time when the white British and Dutch masters ruled that slave fort in Ghana. Yes, we no longer buy and sell slaves openly as we did then, but we continue to tolerate slavery. We continue to use the Bible to justify our exclusion of women and others from full participation in society. We may not be just like those slave masters, but are we really so different? Am I really so different? How do I in my reading of the Bible and in living out my faith support either explicitly or implicitly the abuse of others? How do I need to think, read and act differently to stop participating in these acts of injustice?

I appreciate the many voices I have found that are speaking up openly and powerfully on these questions. Thank you Danielle, not only for this thought-provoking post but for your consistent advocacy for those who are marginalized, excluded, abused and cast off. If we are not to remain blissfully ignorant or complacent of the evils which our faith has been used to justify, we must learn to see, read and think differently. I would hate for my legacy to be looked at with the same scorn and shame that we now look back at those slave traders.

No Longer Ashamed

On Thursday I watched in distress as “my” team, the German national football team, went down in agonizing defeat to the Italians in the UEFA Euro 2012 tournament. Although disappointed, I managed to make it through the remainder of the day and the following day without suffering severe emotional distress. There was a time when this would not have been the case – when a loss by a team I supported would make me irritable and cross for a day or more. Not only did seeing my team lose used to cause me anguish, I really hated the stigma of having sided with a loser. I didn't want to have to face even casual ribbing at the hands of those who supported the winning side. So often I would keep any allegiances I had to myself. That way I could at least avoid any negative treatment from those on “the other side.”

This behaviour extended not only to sports, but to most areas of life. For most of my life I have hesitated to openly take stands on issues for fear that I might offend someone. I want people to like me and I have always worried that in expressing an opinion someone disagrees with I will also incur their rejection of me as a person. I also feared committing myself to a cause or idea lest in the end it should fail to “win,” in whatever sense that might be understood. I have kept my opinions to myself in order that I would be likeable and in order to avoid conflict with others. Not any more.

I do not want to remain silent any longer. I do not want to live in fear of what others might think of me. I do not want to avoid expressing opinions and supporting people and causes because doing so might cause someone else offense. Yes, I want to be tactful and civil in my discourse, but I am learning to overcome my fear of rejection. As I reach midlife I am finally understanding that my identity and my worth do not rest in what others think of me. I do not require their approval. Some issues and causes are worth standing up for; too important for me to remain silent. I'm learning to listen to the voices of those outside the circles of power. I'm raising my voice in concert with those whose voices have been silenced far too long. I'm not the solution. I'm not a superhero who is going to single-handedly solve all the world's problems. But I can take a stand for those things I believe in and let myself be counted – even if it makes me unpopular in certain circles, even if it means I will be misunderstood and possibly even rejected.

Of course this isn't really about football or any other sport – although I apply it there as well in a willingness to affiliate myself with particular teams or athletes that I admire, regardless of their stature in others' eyes. Far more importantly it applies to speaking out and acting against injustice. For me it means standing up for the equality and dignity of women and others who have been silenced by society for too long. It means speaking out in favor of sustainable living and taking care of the creation God gave us. It means taking a stand on the side of immigrants and seeing them as fellow humans, and affirming actions that support and enhance the well-being of society's weakest and poorest. It means raising my questions about theology and Scripture and a host of issues related to the Church, no longer quietly acquiescing to the viewpoints of those around me.

I guess I've become an activist of sorts. I will use my voice and my words to advocate for those things I believe in, regardless of how others respond. I don't want to remain silent and in fear any longer. I don't want to live for the approval of others. I've done that for too long.

I'm okay with Germany's loss on Thursday. I'm learning to take a stand and not be ashamed.

Responding to Micky

As I read Micky De Witt's guest post from Friday and continue to reflect on it I feel sadness and sorrow. I grieve that a woman like Micky should feel shame simply because she is a woman. I mourn that the world has sold her a lie concerning her identity and her worth.

And I feel angry. Outrage rises within me when I realize that it is not only the world that has sold her this lie, but the Church has peddled it as well. The people of God, the very people who should be affirming her worth and dignity, have far too often been the very ones limiting these, even denying them. How many women like Micky has the Church – have we – injured, wounded and excluded by policies and practices of exclusion? How is it that we have chosen to deny and denigrate the worth and value of our sisters, who are made fully in God's image? We men have clung to our position of privilege and power and in the process have hurt so many people, creating barriers and hindrances that keep them from discovering and embracing their true identities and potentialities in Jesus.

Micky, I apologize. I apologize that as a man I have benefited and participated in a system that has told you that you are worth less as a woman; that you should be ashamed of yourself, your beauty and your gifts and talents because you are not a man. I have reaped the benefits of being a man both in the world as a whole and particularly within the Church long enough, and it is time for change. I ask your forgiveness. And I ask that you as a woman and as a sister in Jesus, would allow me to walk alongside you in this journey of faith, learning from you and together with you, listening to you and conversing with you, affirming the dignity and worth that you have as a child of almighty God.

I am so glad you are overcoming shame. I rejoice that you are embracing your identity in Jesus. And I give thanks that I have the privilege of knowing you—and other beautiful women like you—who enrich my life and this world and who radiate the beauty of our creator God. This world would be a terribly dull, colorless, empty place without the richness that women like you bring to it.

I am encouraged by the growing awakening that I am becoming aware of, the awakening within God's people that affirms the value and dignity of each person and welcomes her or his contribution to the Kingdom of God, without regard to gender or education or ethnicity or any of the things that we currently allow to divide us. Don't give up the fight Micky. We're in this together and we're not alone.

Getting Beyond Shame - A Guest Post

Today we have the privilege of hearing from a new friend of mine: Micky De Witt. I want to learn to listen more to the stories of others, to begin to see the world through eyes that are different from mine. I asked Micky to share her experience and struggle with shame, something that many of us struggle with. Micky and I both welcome your comments in response to what she shares, and you can follow her blog at: www.mickydewitt.com  Thanks so much for sharing with us Micky!

The topic of shame is new to me, but the feeling of shame is something that has been with me for as long as I can remember. I just didn’t know the feeling had a name.

It happens every time I leave the house wearing a dress. It happens every time I am spoken to by a man other than my husband or father. It happens when I attempt to speak at church. It happens when I write and post about a controversial topic on my blog. It’s this feeling that asks the question, “Who do you think you are?” It reminds me that I am just a woman, uneducated, and that my mere existence can cause grown men to stumble. It tells me that wearing pretty clothes is prideful. It whispers to me that my gender has already settled the score. I will always come in second. It hushes any desire to lead because I haven’t read enough books. I lack experience, and who would want to follow me anyway?

That is shame.

Realizing this took some time. I used to just think of it as humility, submission, and simply who I was. It wasn’t until I was allowed to cross over those lines that I realized that shame was what was holding me back. Self-doubt and fear were long-time friends of mine and I still hang out with them from time to time. Sometimes, learning to say goodbye can be a process.

Coming to this realization is still very new. When you have walked one way for so long, it takes time to examine the new road and even longer to walk comfortably. I am in transition. For me personally, the beliefs I held that contributed to my shame were also the beliefs of others around me. This complicates things. It’s not my job to change people, and the last time I checked, people (including myself) don’t respond well to forceful opinions.

So what is a girl to do? I am learning to tread gently. I lean on those who encourage and walk forward with me. I write about different issues on my blog in hopes to start a conversation. And more than anything, I try to find my identity in Jesus. He is not the King of Shame, but the conqueror of it. He tells us to walk boldly, speak truthfully, and to love with abandon.

The last part is tricky. To abandon means to leave those thoughts behind… And not just the thoughts about myself but also the thoughts I have towards others. My battle with shame should not motivate me to elevate myself, but it should help me see myself and others as equals. It can be so tempting to pull out my megaphone and yell to the world that being a woman doesn’t make me any less… but you know what? It doesn’t make me any greater either. Not having a college degree doesn’t make me stupid, but I also see my need for those who are wiser.

I’d like to say that I don’t battle with shame anymore, but as I said earlier, this is very new still. I struggle with it daily. I have a hard time with making eye contact. I have a hard time with initiating conversation. The list of struggles could go on. But it helps to have a community of people around who encourage me through my weakness. Without people, I am sure that Shame would win each and every time.

So I walk. I take each step in fear and trembling and some days I make strides while on other days I run backwards. It’s a process. It’s a fight. It requires sweat and tears, but it worth it. Because through the process, I get to see more of who I was made to be. As each layer falls to the floor, more and more of the New Creation is revealed. I wouldn’t give up the fight for anything.

Listening to Shame

I have seen a number of good talks from TED, but this one spoke to me more strongly than any other I've heard yet. In this powerful video Brené Brown addresses the issues of shame and vulnerability. "Vulnerability is not weakness" she states emphatically. In fact, she declares, "vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage." She adds, "Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change."


I appreciated how she addressed the difference in the way men and women experience shame. Both feel shame. According to her, only sociopaths don't experience shame. "For women," she says, "shame is: do it all, do it perfectly and never let 'em see you sweat....Shame for women is this web of unattainable, conflicting, competing expectations about who you are supposed to be." I can see this in the lives of the women I know, though of course I cannot verify it from my own personal experience. I would love to hear from women how they respond to what she says about shame.


I resonated with her comments about shame and men. At first, starting at 16:28 in the video she tells us, she didn't study shame in men, until a man challenged her one time at a book signing. This man, in her words, pointed to his wife and daughters nearby and told Brown, "They'd rather see me die on my white horse than watch me fall down.When we reach out and be vulnerable, we get the shit beat out of us. And don't tell me it's by the guys and coaches and dads, because the women in my life are harder on me than anyone else."


"For men," Brown states, "shame is one: do not be perceived as weak." That's so true. Thankfully I have a wife who does not really behave as the man in the bookstore described, but our culture puts all sorts of pressure on us, both from men and women, not to be weak, not to be vulnerable. This leaves us wearing masks, projecting images of "manliness" but cuts us off from real relationship and, for many of us at least, from expressing our inner self. We live in shame because I think all men feel weak at some point, in some area of their lives. But our society doesn't want us to show it. And this is more often than not true in the Church just as much as it is in society in general.


"Empathy is the antidote to shame," Brown concludes. As we step out and offer ourselves in vulnerability, we open the door to empathy. Unfortunately we also open the door to ridicule and mockery. But as we receive empathy and offer it to one another, we can overcome the shame that tells us we are mistakes, that we are unworthy, that we are failures.


What are your thoughts on this video? How have you felt shame in your life?

The Power (and Abuse) of Words

Recently Rush Limbaugh, never one of my favorite people, stuck his foot deep down his throat with some comments he broadcast about Sandra Fluke after the latter had gone before a congressional committee to argue for the inclusion of birth control treatment in standard health insurance coverage. I don't intend to repeat his words here and extend their influence. You can easily find them on other sites. Many have responded to Limbaugh's words, expressing their outrage at his over-the-top and inappropriate comments. I like this particular response from Soraya Chemaly. Others have chosen to defend his freedom of speech or tried to raise the question of fairness, claiming that liberal commentators have not been taken to task when they have made inappropriate comments about conservative women. I have not been in the information loop until recently so cannot adequately comment on this latter claim, although many of the voices I have read acknowledge fully that outrage should be expressed in response to any speech that degrades a woman for being a woman.

At first I was not going to post anything about this controversy. I didn't want to give any further attention to Limbaugh, because that's what he seems to crave more than anything. Also, others have responded, probably better than I can. I thought at first that it would be best for women to respond because they are the ones under attack. But last night I realized that as a man I also need to raise my voice. We men need to state unequivocally that we stand with our sisters—fellow human beings—in decrying any speech that demeans them as women. Had Limbaugh used degrading terms against any ethnic group he would have been resoundingly pilloried and rightfully so. But because he denigrated a woman, we let it pass. It's a women's issue, after all.

No, it's not.

It's an issue of respect for one another as human beings. Whether we agree with Sandra Fluke's position or not, we owe her the honor of not being called a slut simply because she holds a certain opinion. This article by Chemaly really helped me understand the power of labeling a woman a slut. By his choice of words Limbaugh deliberately sought to marginalize Fluke and label her as an immoral person, one whose voice could be discounted and disregarded. This should not be.

I used to live in an Asian country where women were routinely denigrated by the men around them for any behaviour the men perceived as being immodest or inappropriate. A woman's reputation could be destroyed simply by the word of another, regardless of any real activity on her part. Her choice of clothing or a brief interaction, almost anything could be used against her. A woman in that culture must be constantly thinking about her reputation. What particularly saddened me though was the extent to which it was women themselves who used this slut-shaming technique to keep other women, particularly younger ones, in their proper cultural place. I thought that such labeling didn't occur in my own culture. Now I understand how wrong I was.

Not only am I troubled by Limbaugh's words, I'm even more disturbed by the lack of outcry by evangelical Christians. Their conservativism causes them to blindly support an ungodly man like Limbaugh or, at best, to remain silent. I understand, because I too had remained silent until now. As I said before though, even if someone disagrees with Fluke's perspective, that doesn't mean a person should remain silent when another person is being marginalized and dehumanized for expressing her perspective. We as Christians should be the first to stand up in defense of those who are being silenced. Unfortunately Christians, particularly conservative evangelical (is that redundant?) Christians, fail to place basic human, godly values above their own cultural biases. Rachel Held Evans does a great job in this article exploring what she sees as three key reasons for this support of Limbaugh and others like him. I think she's pinpointed some key issues.

Language is a powerful tool. As Chemaly points out in her article calling a woman a slut is a means to control her. In this article Dianna Anderson pointed out that there is no true equivalent term to describe a man, a word that succinctly denigrates a man's behaviour and his moral character, marginalizing and disempowering him in one simple term. Our words have power and when used as Limbaugh used his, they are a deadly weapon. We need to change the way we use our words and select them more carefully, not that we would never offend another person, but that we would not simplistically categorize and discount a person or group of people because they are of a particular gender, ethnic group, religion or anything else. We can disagree without dehumanizing our opponents. That's called civil discourse. It's also in keeping with recognizing the image of the divine in each human being.

I want to watch my own speech. While I cannot recall that I have deliberately called a woman a slut, neither can I say that I have never done so. In fact, if I haven't actually said it, I've probably thought it in response to the way a woman dresses or behaves. I may not approve of her clothing or behaviour, but I need to stop labeling her and categorizing her for this. My words have power and this unguy is going to wield that power more wisely and graciously.