Monday, 8 June 2009

Christ the Shame Bearer

Being very new to the idea of doing theology by blogging, I have been spending some time thinking about the best way to organise things. I caught myself still in book mode; I was laying the foundations for an argument and therefore produced a blog on the use of anthropological models in biblical studies which just would not work. It was too long for a blog and got far too technical. So, moving away from book mode, I've decided to start at the end and work out where I want to go after that. One of my big questions in all this is: can we talk about Christ the shame bearer? There was a point where I thought I had come up with this idea but, of course, I then found it being used by others; but do we really have the foundation to use this as an image of salvation? Arguments against first and then a few for.

There is a danger that we will impose 21 century concerns onto ancient texts. We are fascinated by psychology and must not read that into the concerns of the biblical writers. Stephen Pattison has pointed out that one of the biggest problems with talking about Jesus bearing shame is that we do not have access to his inner thoughts; the gospel writers make no attempt to tell us how he felt about anything. There is also the issue of 'so what'. Even if we can show that Jesus experienced shame, how does that help the person struggling with shame today?

This is where I do think the anthropological models might help us. For what does seem clear is that Jesus was brought up in a culture which taught him that he could only respect himself if others respected him first. The group oriented person internalises the attitude and regard of others. He then died in a manner designed to inflict the maximum possible humiliation; the Romans built shame into crucifixion by ensuring that it involved nakedness, mocking and public exposure. I suspect it is also significant that one of the great concerns of the biblical texts is whether the disciple will be ashamed of Jesus. And I think that we can also see that Jesus was gentle and gracious with shamed people.

And all of this matters because it does seem to me to be a powerful thing for the shamed person to know that Jesus is in the place of shame with them. It is easy, when struggling with a profound sense of deficiency in yourself, to project your self contempt onto God. Shame is a profoundly lonely experience which can teach people to dread the presence of God (God will just see straight through me and highlight everything that is wrong). But if God has lived through shame, shared our vulnerability then maybe shame itself can be redeemed.

Tuesday, 2 June 2009

Shame: Wrestling with jelly

I pinched the idea of wrestling with Jelly from Martyn Atkins; he uses it for thinking about postmdernism, but it works equally well for thinking about shame. It is a tricky and amorphous subject, but I have found the wrestling itself to be helpful.

So let us start with the positive aspects. Not all shame is bad, to describe someone as 'shameless' is (or used to be) an insult. To have shame can mean to have discretion, to be properly aware of the sensitivities of others. A good sense of shame is a necessary part of community life. But shame can also be crippling and destructive; so what is shame?

The psychologists have a simple distinction: guilt relates to what we do, shame to we are; a shame is a sense that there is something deficient. It is simple, but I wonder if it always holds; surely at some point my behaviour does say something about who I am?

The anthropologists have a different set of distinctions and this is where the jelly comes in. There is a lot of fascinating material out there about 'shame-honour' societies, but, inevitably, scholarship evolves. Part of the distinction seems to be about the difference between a collective and an individualistic society. The earliest theory was that shame was concerned only how others see you; this makes guilt the sophisticated response while shame is concerned only with upholding your own reputation. But that simply does not hold, nor does the idea that people who live in a collective society have no sense of themselves as an individual. A more helpful understanding (certainly for me) emphasises the link between self respect and the respect that others show you. A 'group oriented' person is focussed on the assessment of others and internalises what others say, do and think about them. You cannot have honour in your own eyes unless you also have honour in the eyes of your group. An honour- shame can be both hierarchical (it is good to receive honour from someone of a higher status) and competitive (among equals honour is a 'zero-sum' game if one person gains in honour another is perceived as losing it).

There are two reasons why the concept of 'honour-shame' societies fascinate me. The first is that not only the Biblical but also many of the great theologians were writing in the context of 'honour-shame' societies; and realising this has, I think, helped me to understand them better. But the second is that I am realising more and more that our society is not the opposite of an 'honour-shame' culture; I can see traces of the same values in the way that many groups function. There is something here for us to learn.

Monday, 1 June 2009

Shaming and Blaming (thoughts on Genesis 3)

Genesis 3 is the story of how people can be dragged into a sinful cycle, which becomes more and more destructive. It seems to me to be a story of shaming and blaming.

Adam and Eve have two significant reactions to eating the fruit and to being caught; they come in verse 7 and in verse 13-4. In verse 7, the immediate response to eating the fruit is that they realise that they are naked and they cover themselves. Now I'm quite happy to accept that having to sew things is the first fruit of sin (being completely unable to sew a straight seam) but the deeper issue is their sudden sense of uncomfortable exposure. What is shame? Psychologists have a straightforward way to distinguish between shame and guilt; I feel guilt over wrong actions but I feel shame over a sense that there is something fundamentally wrong with me. Shame can have many manifestations and results, embarrassment, humiliation, the sense that if people really knew what I was like they would not want me; but at its root lies a horrible sense of unwanted exposure before a gaze which we assume to be critical. It can be an agonizing experience, far worse than many forms of physical pain. I am deficient, I need to be hidden, there is something wrong with me. So the Adam and Eve's first action after eating the apple is to cover up; to cover up not simply their actions but their selves.

Which leads directly to the second action. For one of the problems with shame, is that it makes it difficult if not impossible to accept responsibility. So in verse 13 and 14 they explain that it was not their fault. I've always liked the way that Adam carefully points out not only that it was the woman who did it, but it was the woman 'you gave me'. (Get the point God, see who really caused this?). If you are convinced that there is something fundamentally wrong with you, it is incredibly difficult to take responsibility for your wrong actions. Worried that to do so will expose you in the very way that you fear, the easier option is to shift the blame to someone else. The problem, of course, is that this simply creates a vicious cycle of hatred and blame.

It is argued that the problem today is not guilt, but shame. Very few people (even Christians) will speak of being conscious of sin, needing to repent of wrong actions. But a growing number of people apparently struggle with sense of shame, (if they knew what I was really like, they would not want me). And the accusation is that Christianity addresses only guilt. So how fascinating that the very first story, which has been so dominant in the history of the understanding of sin, actually deals with shame. A hint, perhaps, that we have misunderstood and need to dig further.

And how fascinating also, at the end of the story, it is God who gently covers the couple's nakedness far more permanently than their fig leaves. A story of blaming, shaming and grace.