SHAME, GUILT, MASOCHISM, AND THE PROOF OF THE GOSPEL

Our evangelistic conversations with the educated are generally accompanied by challenges, “Prove it! Prove that your God exists and that your bible is from God.”

While I am convinced that there are many sound evidences underpinning these beliefs, an attempt to prove them is seldom productive. We can get into an abstract discussion about the evidence that the Bible is the Word of God, but this is quite extensive, and you, and few will bear with it.

Therefore, I think it necessary to begin where the skeptics already are, with what they already know to be true, with our very evident and stubborn human condition - the internal awareness that we are sinners who need the Savior. Here’s how I answered one skeptic who demanded proof:

One proof of the Gospel of Jesus is this – you already know that the Gospel is true! Here’s how - We struggle with guilt, shame, pride, self-justifications, denials, jealousies, resentments towards others who have disrespected us - always trying to prove ourselves. We also have an unshakeable sense that we deserve to be punished for our moral failures. As a result, we are defensive and know that something is terribly wrong with us.

Rather than acknowledging this, we compensate for this destabilizing inner knowledge by trying to cover-up and to feel good about ourselves in a variety of ways. We convince ourselves that we are good and worthy people. Consequently, we strive to be liked, successful, and always in the right. We want to be around those who affirm and encourage us. We find criticism devastating because it attacks the glowing foundation we have built for ourselves.

Why can we not just laugh-off the criticism, rejections, and failures? Why do we even care about these things? Because we are unable to accept ourselves the way we truly are. Instead, we are in flight from the reality of our lives. As a result, we feed ourselves an endless stream of positive affirmations to convince ourselves that we are good people in the face of what our conscience is telling us. And, temporarily, it works.

It had been hard for me to be around others. Therefore, I dreaded going to school. However, I found that if I’d take my shirt off in front of the mirror and tell myself that I was a great guy and that all the girls secretly loved me, I’d be able to look forward to going to class. However, I’d find that the girls didn’t love me. Instead, they loved others. Back to the mirror for even more grandiose affirmations to regain my high! However, with each affirmation, I became more alienated from myself and from others. I became addicted to the drug of positive allusions about myself, but the initial high and self-acceptance always eluded me.

We read a ton of self-help books and see a stream of psychotherapists so that we can feel good about ourselves. All of them tell us that we have the answers within us. We just have to believe in ourselves – more positive affirmations! When this doesn’t work, we are told that we have to become successful at something – another tactic to run away from ourselves.

However, it soon becomes apparent that all the success in the world will never satisfy. John D. Rockefeller, the richest man in the world, was asked, “How much more money will you have to make before you are satisfied?” His answer was illuminating: “Always a little bit more.”

It should become apparent that all of these “answers” are unable to give us what we are looking for. We also seek wholeness through love. However, what seemed that it would last forever often ends in disappointment and divorce.

This is because these “solutions” are unable to penetrate to the heart of our problem – our alienation from God. We should realize that we are morally bankrupt sinners who need the mercy and forgiveness of God. However, we hate Him. The idea of Him fills us with distaste. Why? Jesus explained our problem with God in this way:

·       John 3:19-20 “And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed.”

Consequently, we are self-condemned by our hatred of the Light and our preference of the darkness.

TACTICS OF THE DARKNESS: IMPLICATIONS OF OUR FLIGHT FROM THE LIGHT:

Atheists try to deny their culpability and feelings of guilt by believing that they are not really responsible for their sins. How? By denying freewill or by believing that we are just a product of our genes and environment. One atheist friend conceded that after he had learned to deny freewill, we no longer felt so responsible for his moral failures.

However, all of these “solutions” are a denial and degradation of who we are – morally responsible people created to be like our Creator. They reduce us to wet machines fit only for the junkyard after we have lost our usefulness.

Masochism is a form of self-righteousness to avoid the Light of truth in favor of the darkness. We all want to be happy! How then do we explain self-mutilation and other forms of self-punishment? When we look at sadomasochistic sex or at people who cut themselves, we’re tempted to regard these phenomena as strictly pathological. However, when we recognize the full range of masochistic behaviors, we’re forced to seek a more global explanation—perhaps one based upon our common humanity and having a common rationale. I’m going to try to identify the thread that ties the individual manifestations of masochism together.

First of all, let’s take a look at a form of masochism with which most of us are familiar. Masochism seems to be at work when we silently endure painful relationships, ones we need not endure. How does this work? We feel guilty about something and, therefore, want to “atone” or compensate for this guilt by enduring the discomfort. Strangely, there seems to be an inner logic that requires us to pay the price by enduring discomfort to receive a guilt reduction. To put it another way, suffering buys us the confidence that we are righteous and entitles us to enjoy the things like sex. I too had participated in this script, which determined what pleasures I could enjoy.

Over-consumption would make me feel guilty. Consequently, if I restricted myself to a three minute shower, I was entitled to feel that I was a good and worthy person. If I exceeded the limits that my legalistic script imposed upon me, I’d have to compensate with some form of saving-the-planet. Similarly, when I’d get an “A” on a test, I’d feel worthy and entitled to buy a chocolate milkshake. However, if I failed to receive the “A,” the milkshake wouldn’t have felt quite right going down. I’ve even feel stressed. Somehow, I understood that my coveted sense of worthiness came at a price. Either I would have to earn it or suffer for it. In conclusion, we are in bondage to an uncompromising slave-master.

In many religions (or perhaps all), self-denial and/or self-flagellation have become the price for righteousness or feelings of OK-ness. Sometimes they take the form of puncture wounds or walking on hot coals or even knives. As an Augustinian monk, Martin Luther endured walking on his knees, walking barefoot in the snow and long periods of sleeplessness in a vain attempt to prove himself to God. The faithful prove themselves by what they suffer. However, he later discovered that by the sheer mercy of God, his sins had been forgiven through the Cross. No need to bask in guilt any longer. The truth had set him free. He was now free to face the truth about himself.

In other religions self-righteousness is accomplished by making costly sacrifices, sometimes human, in order to earn the favor of their deities. As the plague stalked Europe in the 1300-1400s, a flagellant sect arose. They thought that the plague was a sign of God’s displeasure and punishment. Therefore, the flagellants paraded through Europe whipping one another, convinced that this would earn them God’s favor. And for this, they received high grades from their admirers.

Masochism as the price for self-righteousness is even manifested in the political arena. Benedict XVI noted how Western culture has turned against itself and its own Christian heritage in a vain attempt to purchase self-validation:

• “This case illustrates a peculiar western self-hatred that is nothing short of pathological. It is commendable that the West is trying to be more open, to be more understanding of the values of outsiders, but it has lost all capacity for self-love. All that it sees in its own history is the despicable and the destructive; it is no longer able to perceive what is great and pure…Multiculturalism, which is so constantly and passionately promoted, can sometimes amount to an abandonment and denial, a flight from one’s own heritage.” (Quoted by Jean Bethke Elshtain, First Things, March, 2009, 36)

Self-castigation is subconsciously understood as a reasonable payment for self-validation, a necessary defense against shame. It works something like this: “I am a good and worthy person if I champion the interests of others and am willing to criticize my own traditions.” (It is not my intention to devalue good deeds, but rather their self-righteous motivations!)

Can we ascribe all of these phenomena to pathology or to the idiosyncrasies of a limited number of cultures? Obviously, there is something more global taking place. Ordinarily, it would have been more in keeping with our pleasure-seeking nature to believe, “I make my gods happiest when I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.” However, this type hedonistic religion always seems to give way to its more masochistic forms.

Why haven’t we become more proficient in rewriting our scripts to eliminate the necessity for pain and to maximize pleasure? Why has this mysterious script proved itself so impervious to editorial “improvements,” especially in view of the encouragement given to hedonism by our permissive age? Evidently, there is something else deeply and deterministically taking place in humanity’s game-plan. This is why human history consistently testifies that we are more than ready to pay the price of self-mutilation and self-deprivation.

I don’t think we’re ready to answer this question until we have expanded our inquiry to include the sister of self-denial—self-indulgence! They both address the identical problem of shame and unworthiness and seem to be opposite sides of the same coin. Writer and psychotherapist, John Bradshaw, points out that these opposite responses are both shame-generated:

• “The most paradoxical aspect of neurotic shame is that it is the core motivator of the super-achieved and the underachieved, the Star and the Scapegoat, the “Righteous” and the wretched, the powerful and the pathetic.” (“Healing the Shame that Binds You,” 14)

Interestingly, both self-indulgence and self-denial are closely associated in the practice of Eastern religions. Some of their practices attempt to dry up desire and lust through the fires of self-mortification, like rain evaporating on hot Florida asphalt. By extinguishing desire, they hope to transcend the world of pain and delusion.”

However, the opposite teaching of self-indulgence is often taught as a more appealing alternative. Instead of trying to burn away their desires, some gurus teach radical self-indulgence. As one Hindu mystic commented, “Fasting will only increase desire, and you will only think about food. Instead, consume as much honey as you can, and you won’t desire it anymore.”

The Doors’ Jim Morrison had a similar outlook. As is the case with all of us, his sense of shame wouldn’t be silenced by self-denial. Instead, he believed that it had to be saturated with self-indulgence until it fell apart, like a soggy paper towel. He was convinced that this would result in freedom and spiritual purification:

• “Sensuousness and evil is an attractive image to us now…It’s like a purification ritual in the alchemical sense. First you have to have the period of disorder, chaos, returning to a primeval disaster religion. Out of that you purify the elements and find the new seed of life.” (Steve Turner, Hungry for Heaven, 96)

How do we explain self-mutilation and self-indulgence in the same breath? Is there a common thread connecting them? All humanity experiences guilt and shame. Psychotherapist John Bradshaw claims that these feelings are so powerful that they are life-controlling. Guilt and shame tell us that there is something the matter with us and compel us to do something about the disturbing alarm they sound. We therefore resort to denial, self-mutilation, self-indulgence, drugs and even workaholism to convince ourselves that we’re worthy people, in the face of our persistent shame. We cut ourselves and for a few moments feel that life is good. (Clinical studies have shown that after an act of self-mutilation, cortisone production, directly associated with stress, is reduced.)

We deprive, afflict, and sacrifice ourselves for good reason, but why should self-castigation make us feel better? We are created in the image of God. Therefore, we are highly moral creatures, and we are painfully aware when we violate our internal God-written rule book. In addition to this, we also have a sense that there must be retribution for our infractions. We’re then confronted with two choices: either we confess and seek the mercy of the One who created the rules, or we deal with the problem ourselves in the darkness of denial. If we have a problem with God, we usually deal with the problem ourselves. This is exactly what Adam and Eve did. They covered their sin and shame with fig leaves—hardly an adequate solution. We, however, do the same thing. Instead of fig leaves, we cover ourselves with good deeds, accomplishments, or self-affliction. We convince ourselves that we are fully able to pay the price for our guilt and shame. And we often do such a good job of this that we actually become convinced of our own righteousness, superiority, and entitlement.

But an entitlement mentality is a lethal poison. Because of their self-inflicted punishments, the flagellants convinced themselves and others that they were even more spiritual and entitled than the priests. Consequently, they entered the cathedrals and drove away the “less worthy” presiding priests, sometimes even beating them.

Guilt and shame cause such psychological turmoil that we can’t ignore them. We feebly erect a wall of denials and self-righteous rationalizations in a vain attempt to shield ourselves against their indictments. However, we find that they are like inflated balls, which inevitably resurface no matter how valiantly and persistently we fight to keep them submerged.

Are we condemned to vainly pursue an unattainable freedom from these slave-masters? Have we become servants of denial and image management to hide the painful truths about ourselves? It would seem so. If we need to feel that we are significant and worthy people, and our unalterable script tells us we’re not, we have a problem—a fatiguing quest after the transient feeling of worthiness. We need to always be in the right. This places others, our dearest relationships, in the wrong.

The Biblical faith affirms that we do have a very real problem—God (and even our God-given human nature) has been offended by both our sin and our inadequate, self-absorbed attempts to “atone” for our sin through self-righteous acts and justifications. We have covered ourselves with fig leaves in the form of accomplishments hoping that this would obscure the offense and silence the guilt and shame. All of this has occurred because we continue to run from God and refuse to meet Him in the light of true confession. And we have been running ever since.

However, He paid the price by submitting to mutilation by our human hands so that we wouldn’t have to suffer mutilation at His hands or even by our own hands. If we are convinced that Christ has paid the price for our sins in full, and that nothing will separate us from His love and forgiveness, then the sense of guilt and shame and the need to continually prove ourselves is neutralized.

Bradshaw claimed that “By being aware of the dynamics of shame, by naming it, we gain some power over it” (23). He’s right, if, by “being aware of the dynamics of shame,” he means understanding that we have a real sin problem that only grace can adequately address. We do have to “name it” by confessing it, not in denying it or by covering it over by self-atonement or good deeds. Good deeds do play their very vital role, but not as a ploy to deny our guilt. As rain falls from clouds, so must forgiveness flow from God. Any attempt to forgive ourselves is nothing short of masturbation and a refusal to grapple with the objective offense of our sins.

Martin Luther subjected himself to the most extreme and painful disciplines trying to earn God’s love. However, in the midst of his studies, the concept of grace and reconciliation through Christ suddenly came alive as never before. In his Commentary on the Book of Galatians, he wrote:

• “Although an impeccable monk, I stood before God as a sinner troubled in conscience, and I had no confidence that my merit would satisfy Him. Therefore I did not love a just and angry God, but rather murmured against Him…Night and day I pondered until I saw the connection between the justice of God and the statement, “The just shall live by his faith” [Rom 1:17]. Then I grasped that the justice of God is that righteousness by which, through grace and sheer mercy, God justifies us through faith. Therefore I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through the doors into paradise.”

Luther discovered something that many of us have discovered—the Word of God is transformational! It and the God who gave it are the necessary antidote for masochism in its various forms. I still don’t enjoy taking long showers, but I no longer experience the need to prove my worthiness by keeping them under the three minute limit. In contrast to the reassurances of many psychologists that I was a “great guy,” it was only the Word of Christ that was able to convince me of this and free me from my internal shackles.

When we reject the gift of God’s righteousness procured on the Cross, we condemn ourselves to endlessly pursue our own righteousness, like Sisyphus self-condemned to push his boulder. When we fail to receive this payment for sin, we likewise sentence ourselves masochism’s vengeance, endlessly trying to pay off a debt that is far beyond our means to ever satisfy. Consequently, we are always paying, pushing, and trying to prove ourselves.

In retrospect, I find it so remarkable that Jesus’ death on the Cross is the only antidote for humanity’s obsessions. It’s also the perfect piece to complete the jigsaw puzzle presented by our confused lives. Pleasure seeking, denial, and masochism each had failed to fill the gap. This forces us to ask the question, “Why is there is such an incredible fit between this Bible-centered event, which occurred 2000 years ago, and my mental well-being?” Perhaps, Christ is the missing piece!