False Religions and Spiritualities

Contrary to popular opinion, Jesus was not a religious pluralist. He was not live-and-let-live regarding other religions, even the religion of those closest to Him – the religion of the Pharisees:

• "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves. (Matthew 7:15)

• Then He charged them, saying, "Take heed, beware of the leaven [teachings] of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod." (Mark 8:15)

Jesus is very exacting about what He’d have His church believe:

• Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

Believing in Him as the Savior of the world was not an option:

• “Therefore I told you that you will die in your sins. For if you do not believe that I am ⌊He⌋, you will die in your sins.” (John 8:24)

• Jesus told him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” (John 14:6) 

His Apostles were no less theologically exacting (Gal. 1:9). Paul understood that salvation depended on a softened heart made amenable to right belief. Placing trust in the wrong things would place salvation in question:

• Be careful that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit based on human tradition, based on the elemental forces of the world, and not based on Christ. (Colossians 2:8)

What we believe can make prisoners out of us. However, there are many things about which we think wrongly – history, time, space, matter, DNA, and even life. However, this isn’t the problem. Instead, it’s a matter of where we place a trust – what we believe in. Our trust has to be exclusively invested in Jesus (Gal. 3:1-5; 5:2-4). In contrast, we are taken captive by alien philosophies when we place our trust in them:

• Let no one disqualify you [of eternal life], insisting on ascetic practices and the worship of angels, claiming access to a visionary realm and inflated without cause by his unspiritual mind. He [the false teacher] doesn’t hold on to [Jesus] the head. (Colossians 2:18-19)

To place our trust in anything in addition to Jesus is to no longer trust in Jesus – to be “disqualified”:

• If you get yourselves circumcised [to become a Jew and follow the Law], Christ will not benefit you at all.  Again I testify to every man who gets himself circumcised that he is obligated to keep the entire law. You who are trying to be justified by the law are alienated from Christ; you have fallen from grace. (Galatians 5:2-4) 

I used to think that I’d play-it-safe by earning my worthiness before God by performing good deeds and in trusting in Christ. However, I condemned myself to obsessive introspection, trying to convince myself that my deeds were good enough – something I never could do! Nevertheless, we are to perform good deeds but for the right reasons. To perform them to earn God’s love represents a refusal to believe what He tells us to believe – that salvation is an absolutely free gift, apart from any good deeds (Eph. 2:8-9; Rom. 3:27-28).

What were these dangerous philosophies (teachings) that Paul warned against? One was an ascetic mysticism through which its adherents claimed visions (Col. 2:18). Mysticism is the belief that we can access God through a variety of techniques like meditations, visualizations, imaginations, and repetitions of a single word or phrase. Ascetic mysticism believes that God can be accessed through severe afflictions or depravations. About this, Paul warned:

• Why do you submit to regulations: “Don’t handle, don’t taste, don’t touch”?  All these ⌊regulations⌋ refer to what is destroyed by being used up; they are commands and doctrines of men. Although these have a reputation of wisdom by promoting ascetic practices, humility, and severe treatment of the body, they are not of any value in curbing self-indulgence. (Colossians 2:20-23) 

“Severe treatment of the body” (asceticism) – the attempt to achieve a worthiness before God - has been a central part of many religions. It had been so for the reformer Martin Luther, according to blogger, Bill Spears:

• When Martin Luther tacked his Ninety-Five Theses on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences in 1517 on the church door at Wittenburg, Germany, initiating what would be called "the protestant reformation", he was turning away from a life of self-mutilation, self-condemnation, and self-castigation. He was instead forwarding a cause favored by grace and freedom. The Reformation was a change in theological thinking that had held a firm and frightening grip on Europe throughout the dark and middle ages. And with that change in thinking came the Renaissance and scientific method. The world has never been the same since.

Later, Luther confessed that his “severe treatment of the body” represented a denial of the severe treatment that our Savior had endured to free us of our sins - grace. Through his self-afflictions, Luther had hoped to win God’s approval but almost died as a result.

However, others are convinced that by paying the severe price of self-mutilation, they have succeeded in making themselves both worthy before God and even before men. This is the core of self-righteousness.

The Flagellants were a sect that sprang up while the Black Death was ravishing Europe. Convinced that the Plague was the result of God’s wrath, the Flagellants whipped their bodies bloody to ward it off. As they wandered through the cities of Europe, they earned praise for their sacrificial behavior. Convinced of their spiritual superiority, they violently installed themselves in the place of the priests, whom they beat and tossed out of their parishes. This is the fruit of self-righteousness.

Others try to achieve spiritual worthiness through other forms of physical punishment or the rejection of anything pleasurable. Some take vows of silence, sexual abstinence, or fasting for long periods. However, Paul insisted “they are not of any value in curbing self-indulgence [sin]” (Colossians 2:23). In fact, they are even worse than useless if we place trust in these depravations to make us worthy before God.

Another evil arises from these practices. When we think that we have achieved a higher spiritual state through such practices, we tend to believe in our own sanctity. We sanctify our thoughts, feelings, and imaginations as did the Flagellants. According to Paul, these mystics claimed “access to a visionary realm and [became] inflated without cause by his unspiritual mind” (Colossians 2:18).

When people become self-righteous, they tend to glory in their thoughts and imaginations. In Celebration of Discipline, mystic Richard Foster insists that:

• As with meditation, the imagination is a powerful tool in the work of prayer. We may be reticent to pray with the imagination, feeling that it is slightly beneath us. (172)

• Imagination often opens the door to faith.” (173) 

Does God really care about our imaginations or in faith, confession and righteousness? Scripture never mentions that “Imagination often opens the door to faith.” In contrast to Foster, the Apostle Paul claimed that we are not free to imagine and visualize God according to our own inclinations:

• For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. (Romans 1:21)

Our imaginations provoke God’s wrath. Why? Because it represents a rejection of true, biblically prescribed worship! Although humankind knows God, we refuse to worship Him “as God!” As a consequence of refusing to abide in God’s light, we become darkened by our own imaginations, as God revealed through the Prophet Jeremiah:

• This is what the Lord Almighty says: "Do not listen to what the prophets are prophesying to you; they fill you with false hopes. They speak visions from their own minds, not from the mouth of the Lord. They keep saying to those who despise me, 'The Lord says: You will have peace.' And to all who follow the stubbornness of their hearts [“walketh after the imagination of his own heart;” KJV] they say, 'No harm will come to you.'” (Jeremiah 23:16-17; Ezek 13:2; Luke 1:51) 

If we are to represent the Lord, we cannot speak from our own thoughts or imaginations, as if they are coming from the Lord. If we are to walk in the light, it has to be according to the light of His Word (Isaiah 8:20; 1 Peter 4:11; 1 Cor. 4:6-7)

As Paul claimed, many of these ascetic practices have the “appearance of wisdom” and spirituality:

• Now the Spirit explicitly says that in later times some will depart from the faith, paying attention to deceitful spirits and the teachings of demons, through the hypocrisy of liars whose consciences are seared. They forbid marriage and demand abstinence from foods that God created. (1 Timothy 4:1-3) 

Interestingly, “the teachings of demons” have the appearance of piety. How self-sacrificial and godly to deny oneself sex and a family! Such a person must be more worthy of God, right? Also, the giving up of all animal products has the appearance of spiritual worthiness.

Meanwhile, there is nothing the matter with rejecting meat products or marriage if that is one’s calling. Likewise, there is nothing the matter with taking vows of poverty or chastity if one wants to make such sacrifices in order to more effectively serve the Lord. However, if we place trust in such vows in order to make ourselves more acceptable before God, we are denying Christ and the adequacy of His Cross.

What we believe can tear us down, but it can also build us up, giving us all spiritual blessings:

• May grace and peace be multiplied to you through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord. His divine power has given us everything required for life and godliness through the knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and goodness. (2 Peter 1:2-3) 

When I believed that I needed to earn or be worthy of God’s salvation, I placed myself in torment, never certain that He loved me. Instead, I began to see how unworthy I was of anything coming from Him. Even after I began to teach, I was afflicted with thoughts of unworthiness, as if the Devil was telling me:

• You teach? You are a hypocrite, getting in front of the class as if you are some kind of role-model. I know who you are! You are a loveless, faithless fraud, you disgusting hypocrite!

After allowing me to be torn down, my Savior began to build me up in His holy Gospel. I realized that it wasn’t about me but Him; that it wasn’t about my worthiness but His, entirely. Consequently, when I was accused by Satan, I responded:

• Satan, you are right. I am entirely unworthy, but I have a God loves and forgives me. It is He who has given me a task to perform. As a result, I am so glad to be reminded of my unworthiness. This awareness just causes me to adore my Savior all the more!

What was Paul’s solution to these philosophical threats? Awareness of Jesus and our unmatchable inheritance in Him (Col. 1:15-20; 2:8-15)! When we understand how rich we are in Him, we will not be enticed by a bag of trinkets.

Western Intellectuals, Shame and S&M

We all want to be happy! Why then do we resort to masochism, a form of self-punishment - sadomasochistic sex, self-denial or even self-mutilation? However, masochism is not restricted to those forms we usually think of as “pathological.” In its many manifestations, it actually has gone mainstream.

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 a subconscious life-script, an inner logic that requires us to transact a cryptic deal with ourselves. We pay the price of enduring some discomfort, and then we entitle ourselves to receive a reduction in guilt.

Similarly, according to this hidden contract or “logic,” after having paid the price of a few lashes, we have “bought” the right to enjoy the things that are more important to us, like sex. Of course, this sexual satisfaction we derive from the lashes is predicated on deep-dwelling shame that regularly requires this “sacred offering.”

More commonly, armed with masochism’s inner logic of or “contract,” we punish ourselves when we fail to perform up to our standards and reward ourselves when we succeed. Likewise, I had my own internal script that specified what pleasures I could enjoy. Since “over-consumption” would make me feel guilty, I would restrict myself to three minute showers. My internal reward system signaled me that I was not worthy of longer showers. If I exceeded the limit that my legalistic script imposed upon me, I’d have to compensate with some form of saving-the-planet activity.

Similarly, when I’d get an “A” on an exam, 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. Somehow, I understood that my coveted sense of worthiness came at a price. Either I would have to earn it or if I couldn’t earn it, I would have to suffer for it.

Others, when they feel that they have achieved a certain scripted level of “worthiness,” feel entitled to take a vacation. Meanwhile, others who have a more stringent script never feel worthy of taking a vacation.

In many religions, self-denial and/or self-flagellation have become the staples for everyday 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.

In other religions self-denial 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 God’s favor. And for this, they received high grades from their admirers.

Masochism takes many forms. Benedict XVI writes about another form of masochism. He notes how Western culture, en masse, has turned against itself and its own Christian heritage:

• 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)

Author Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a Somali Muslim turned atheist, shares this insight:

• In certain countries, "left-wing," secular liberals have stimulated my critical thinking and that of other Muslims. But these same liberals in Western politics have the strange habit of blaming themselves for the ills of the world, while seeing the rest of the world as victims. To them, victims are to be pitied, and they lump together all pitiable and suppressed people, such as Muslims, and consider them good people who should be cherished and supported so that they can overcome their disadvantages. The adherents to the gospel of multiculturalism refuse to criticize people whom they see as victims. Some Western critics disapprove of United States policies and attitudes but do not criticize the Islamic world, just as, in the first part of the twentieth century, Western socialist apologists did not dare criticize the Soviet labor camps. Along the same lines, some Western intellectuals criticize Israel, but they will not criticize Palestine because Israel belongs to the West, which they consider fair game, but they feel sorry for the Palestinians, and for the Islamic world in general, which is not as powerful as the West. They are critical of the native white majority in Western countries but not of Islamic minorities. Criticism of the Islamic world, of Palestinians, and of Islamic minorities is regarded as Islamophobia and xenophobia.

Self-castigation is subtly and 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 with me when I’m thoroughly enjoying myself”? However, this type of hedonistic religion is always replaced by more masochistic forms. Why? 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, pleasure-seeking age? Evidently, there is something else indelibly 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 or 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 feelings of unworthiness. Although seeming polar opposites, they are kissing cousins. 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 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 by 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.” (Quoted from Hungry for Heaven, Steve Turner, 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. Counselor 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 really worthy people in the face of our persistent shame. We cut ourselves and for a few moments feel that life, once again, 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-infused rule book. In addition to this, we also have a sense that there must be retribution for the 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. 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, driving 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 beach balls in the ocean, 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.

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. When this failed to work, we ran from God and refused to meet Him in the light of true confession. And we have been running ever since.

However, He paid the price through mutilation by our human hands so that we wouldn’t have to suffer mutilation at His hands or even our own. 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 claims 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-live sin problem that only God’s 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 come 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) is 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 to lives of masochism, endlessly trying to pay off a debt that is far beyond our means to ever satisfy. Consequently, we are always paying, always pushing, always 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 that occurred 2000 years ago and my mental well-being?” Perhaps, Christ is the missing piece!

Masochism’s Inner Logic

Why do we resort to masochism? We all want to be happy! How then do we explain self-mutilation and other forms of self-punishment? When we look only at sadomasochistic sex or at people who cut or torture themselves, we’re tempted to regard these phenomena as pathological. However, when we recognize the full range of masochistic behaviors, we’re forced to seek a more global answer—perhaps one based upon our common humanity and having a common rationale. I’m going to try to identify the thread that ties all of 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 a subconscious life-script, an inner logic that requires us to transact a mysterious deal: we pay the price by enduring the discomfort, and we receive a reduction in guilt.

Similarly, according to this hidden contract, after having paid the price of suffering, we entitle ourselves to enjoy the things that are more important to us, like sex. Likewise, I had my own script that 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. Somehow, I understood that my coveted sense of worthiness came at a price. Either I would have to earn it or suffer for it. Hence, we are in bondage to an uncompromising slave-master.

In many religions (or perhaps all), self-denial and/or self-flagellation have become the staples for everyday 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.

In other religions self-denial 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 God’s favor. And for this, they received high grades from their admirers.

Masochism takes many forms. Benedict XVI writes about another form of masochism. He notes how Western culture, en masse, has turned against itself and its own Christian heritage:

“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 with me when I’m thoroughly enjoying myself”? However, this type hedonistic religion always seems to give way to its more masochistic forms. Why? 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 indelibly 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 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 by 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.” (Quoted from Hungry for Heaven, Steve Turner, 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. Counselor 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 really worthy people in the face of our persistent shame. We cut ourselves and for a few moments feel that life, once again, 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-infused rule book. In addition to this, we also have a sense that there must be retribution for the 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. 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, driving 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.

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. When this failed to work, we ran from God and refused to meet Him in the light of true confession. And we have been running ever since.

However, He paid the price through mutilation by our human hands so that we wouldn’t have to suffer mutilation at His hands or even 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 claims 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-live 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 come 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 purpose our own righteousness, like Sisyphus self-condemned to push his boulder. When we fail to receive this payment for sin, we likewise sentence ourselves to lives of masochism, endlessly trying to pay off a debt that is far beyond our means to ever satisfy. Consequently, we are always paying, always pushing, always 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 that occurred 2000 years ago and my mental well-being?” Perhaps, Christ is the missing piece!