C is for Confession (an alphabet for penitents)

Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. James 5:16

Confession is one of those things we think about doing when we get to Lent and try not to think of the rest of the year. Most of us do not do it well.  We either choose to ignore unhealthy and sinful patterns in our lives or we are debilitated by shame and self-loathing. Mostly we vacillate between these two poles. We minimize our sin (or simply don’t acknowledge it) or we obsess over it and are destroyed by it. We see this in religious communities. Some churches never get around to naming evil. Other churches obsess over their total depravity, making God’s grace opaque. Confession steers us between the extremes of minimizing sin’s seriousness or feeling disqualified by it.

Our sin is not that serious!

In the primaries, president Trump famously asserted that he doesn’t think he’s ever asked God for forgiveness. He later stated that he think’s “repenting is terrific,” that he goes to communion which is a form of confession and that he tries to live his life so that he doesn’t have to ask for forgiveness. His famous public apology for his 2005 lewd remarks, “I said it, I was wrong and I apologize” may be one of the few examples we see from him of confession. Unfortunately, he followed up that confession with political doublespeak designed to minimize his wrongdoing:

“I never said I was a perfect person,”

“These words don’t reflect who I am,

“I’ve said some foolish things, but there’s a big difference between the words and actions of other people. Bill Clinton has actually abused women and Hillary has bullied, attacked, shamed and intimidated his victims.”

Trump gives us the anatomy of a poor confession: (1)minimizing the seriousness of sin ( ‘I am not perfect,’ (2) separating his actions from his character (‘these words don’t reflect who I am’), (3) misdirection (pointing to someone else’s sins). There was an apology, yet this was not repenting with sackcloth and ashes.

We shouldn’t make this about Trump. We are also bad at confession and we try to minimize the seriousness of our own Sin. If a tape of our past indiscretions surfaced, we may also seek to downplay its significance.  More often we distract ourselves so we don’t have to take an honest look at ourselves.

Our sin disqualifies us!

The other side of the coin is that we may carry the weight of past wrongs, wishing we had acted differently. We beat ourselves up  asking “If I only didn’t . . .” We are ashamed of friendships that fell apart because we acted selfishly, and opportunities missed. We regret rash actions, unkind words, angry flare-ups, and untruths. Sometimes the past holds us in paralysis. We are ashamed of what we have done and what we have not done. We keep all this hidden.  This was the first reaction of Adam and Eve in the garden before their excuses (Genesis 3:6-7).

These two poles are not mutually exclusive. We can outwardly act like we have it together or that our sin is insignificant. Inwardly, we may carry the shame of personal failings. I do. I can be gregarious and charming, quick-witted and fun, while privately I may be a mess—full of self-doubt, insecurity, shame for ways I fail and have failed. Publically present, but isolated from others.

Why confession is good for us

Confession is good for the soul precisely because it cuts through our tendency toward both excuse making and self-loathing. When we name sin for what it is, we break its stronghold in our lives. We hear words of abolution—that in Christ we are free and fully forgiven. We are accepted by God and restored to fellowship with others. There is no morbid self-loathing here. We are set free from Sin’s death grip on our soul and set free to live life. Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes:

The sinner surrenders. giving up all evil, giving the sinner’s heart to God and finding forgiveness of all one’s sin in the community of Jesus Christ and other Christians. Sin that has been spoken and congessed has lost all of its power. It has been revealed and judged as sin. It can no longer tear apart the community (Life Together, Fortress Press, 2015, 88).

The fruit of confession is that we act differently in the wake of Christ’s forgiveness. We are forgiven when face-up to the seriousness and consequences of our actions. When we do, we live differently. We repair broken relationships (where they can be repaired), we live and act from a new center. We own up to our missteps and begin the journey back to the right path.

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The Shame in Our Game: a ★★★★★ book review

Shame is  a major part of my own journey. As a kid, I was a classic underachiever, and even today I still hear, in my mind, my parent’s “you have potential” lecture and feel like I’m not measuring up. I also carry the burden of past mistakes, vocational frustrations, and family secrets. I am ashamed for being forty without making an indelible mark on my world. I feel shame acutely when social interactions turn awkward and I feel disconnected from others. Is it me? 

4433Yes, of course it is. But it isn’t just me. Shame is part of your journey too. Psychiatrist Curt Thompson wrote The Soul of Shame : Retelling the Stories We Believe About Ourselves to address our common sickness:

Shame is something we all experience at some level, some more consciously than others. Of course there are the obvious examples: times we’ve felt everything from slight embarrassment to deep humiliation. . . .But many of us also carry shame less publicly, often outside the easy view of even some of our closest friends. Losing a major account at work. The breakup of a marriage. Our child’s seeming disinterest in school. A boss whose motivational tactic is to regularly compare your work to that of someone who is outperforming you. Any of these more common scenarios carry the burden of shame in ways that we work hard to cover up.  And our coping strategies have become so automatic we may completely unaware of its presence and activity (21).

Thompson defines shame as more than  simply ‘just a feeling’ but a belief that: ‘I am not enough; there is something wrong with me; I am bad or I don’t matter’ (24).  This is profoundly isolating and demeaning. Shame is that part of us which tries to destroy our soul and derail our story.

Thompson explores the neuro-biological and psychological roots of shame, and points to the practical and theological resources which will bring us healing in the book’s nine chapters.  Chapter one provides a working description of shame (quoted above). Chapters two and three examine shame from a interpersonal neurobiological (IPNB) approach, discussing how shame works in the brain, and in relationships.  This includes biochemistry, the history of attachment, past experiences, etc. Chapter four explores the fact that we are story telling creatures. When shame reigns unchecked, we inhabit one sort of story. Chapter five examines the biblical narrative, especially Genesis 3 where shame corrupted ‘God’s intended creation of goodness and beauty.’

Chapter six begins to unfold the resources for healing: vulnerability and community. We feel shame in the areas that are most vulnerable; the power of shame is broken in us when we allow ourselves to be known. Thompson’s counsel to one client addressed her shame:

It makes complete sense that you would feel vulnerable. This is the feeling that shame activates and that everyone feels to some degree when they are on the verge of being known in what they anticipate may be an unsafe space. To allow yourself to be known is very hard work. (119)

He calls this ‘the gift and terror of being known.’ There are no guaranteed outcomes in how other people will respond to us, but by learning to share ourselves, the power of shame is broken. In chapter seven Thompson explores how sharing ourselves in community can gives us the strength and imagination to counter our internal shame narratives. Ultimately we need to make the shift from the story shame is trying to tell in us, ‘back to the story that is true, the story God is telling at that moment’ (141).  A committed group of people who will tell us the truth about us, and our behavior, and won’t turn and run from us in those moments when we are wrong, are people who can be used by God to heal our shame (144).

This communal burden sharing which allows us to conquer shame is described further in chapter eight, especially in relation to our ‘primary communities of nurture’: family, church, and schools.  I gleaned some insights here on how to  speak to my own kids without re-enforcing their shame. Chapter nine, explores the new vitality in vocation we experience as we experience healing.

Shame is something of a ‘hot topic’ lately. Many of us have read Brené Brown’s books or seen her popular TED talks. Thompson draws on Brown and builds on her insights, but his approach is different. Brown’s writing is more self revelatory, Thompson tends to share stories from his counseling of others. This is also a self-consciously a Christian, theological approach to  the topic of shame, so Thompson explores relevant scriptural passages and the ways in which church aids in the healing process. This is an integrated Christian approach to shame which makes use of the best insights from neuro-psychology.

Vulnerability and community is sound advice. It is also difficult and risky. There are parts of my soul I had to learn to let people know and was lucky enough to have friends who didn’t bail on me for sharing my twisted vulnerable self. Whatever inner healing I have experienced, it is in this knowing and being known by others. However it still takes risk and I have also learned that not every listening ear honors brokenness. The key to Thompson’s model, is a commitment, loyalty and acceptance. Without these, there is no nurturing community to reveal our deep shame.

This is a compelling read and worth spending some time on. The back of the book has questions for discussion and a bibliography of related resources. I recommend it for anyone who has wrestled with shame from past wounds or has experienced the fear of being found out.  There are plenty of insights on how to nurture healing in others as well. I give this five stars: ★★★★★

Note: I received this book from InterVarsity Press in exchange for my honest review.

 

 

 

40 Days of Grace: a book review

While I occasionally review devotional literature, I am not really a ‘devotional guy.’ This is especially true of the 40 day journey variety. Admittedly, I can lack the consistency and stick-to-itiveness to complete the ‘whole 40 days.’ I also have bad memories of being dragged through the 40 days of Purpose (twice).  My big issue is that I find devotional books somewhat shallow. I’d rather pick up the Bible, and maybe a good commentary and study something. So it was with a little bit of apprehension that I began Rich Miller’s 40 days of Grace. Except I did it in like 32. I’m not bragging or anything, I’m just letting you know I did it all wrong.

Miller is the president of Freedom in Christ Ministries, USA, an organization founded by Neil Anderson (Miller has also  co-written several books with Anderson).  Miller is the sole author of these devotions; however the book is designed to be used in concert with The Grace Course, a DVD curriculum featuring Steve Goss and Rich Miller (although it can also be enjoyed separately).

Miller’s six week (5 weeks, and 5 day) journey explores the different facets of Grace. The first week is devoted to describing what grace is, how amazing it is, and how good and gracious God is for giving us a gift we do not deserve. The following weeks expand on how  God’s grace ministers to various parts of our soul. God’s grace in Christ deals decisively with our sin and guilt (week 2), our shame (week 3), our fears (week 4), and our pride (week 5). The final five days are devoted to exhorted us to live the “Grace-rest life.”

Miller writes these devotional reflections with wit, insight and good humor.  My initial impression of this book was that it was overly basic. But there are many ways where we can ‘get grace’ intellectually yet still fail to live it out. Miller’s Mission) is to get us to understand experientially what we have been given in Christ, and help us to flourish as a result. This is a good goal, and sometimes a ‘back to the basics’ approach is good for the soul.  However, I think that I would recommend this more for new Christians than seasoned saints.  That isn’t to say that this book didn’t also make me hunger for a deeper, richer experience of God’s grace in my own life.  I loved that Miller is not content to leave his description of grace as God’s gift of salvation from sin.  By tracing the way Grace sets captives free (from sin, guilt, shame, fear, pride), Miller points us to a more grace-full life.

This was better than my previous 40 Day journeys (even if I got done eight days early).  Of course Miller doesn’t say everything about grace (anymore than Rick Warren speaks comprehensively about the purposes of God). What he does say here, is generally biblical, thoughtful and personally enriching. I give it 3.5 stars.

Thank you to Kregel Publications for providing me a copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

The Tenth Station

Jesus is Stripped of His Garments

The took your clothes and divided them.

You were left naked.

All dignity was taken from you.

You would die naked on a cross.

You knew fully our shame.

We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.
Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.