I’m sure that I irritate the beautiful people around me with my quibbling over the semantics of the commonly used phrase, “But I feel guilty.”
The conversation usually goes like this:
Steph: “Well, are you guilty?”
Her friend: “Uh . . . what do you mean?”
Steph: “I understand what you mean, but you can’t feel guilty; guilt is a state. You are either guilty or not guilty. Either you have done something that renders you guilty or you haven’t. So, which one is it?”
Her friend: “Uh maybe . . . well, no . . . I’m not sure.”
The discussion usually continues as we flesh out the differences between false guilt and unhealthy shame. Shame often looks less at our actions and, instead, makes assessments about our personhood. It is usually less about doing wrong and more about being wrong. Unhealthy shame can cause individuals to run from God and others in an attempt to hide.
A lot of missionaries, non-profit personnel, and ministry workers live in a perpetual state of false guilt and shame. We feel bad for having more material wealth than the people around us; we feel “guilty” for using our air conditioning, driving a vehicle, having funds to educate our children, or being able to access medical care. We are ashamed of using money to fly back to our home country from time to time, buying cheese at an embarrassingly high cost (and then burning the receipts for it at home), or taking a needed rest. We feel like we haven’t given enough, done enough, sacrificed enough, or proclaimed the gospel enough. It’s never enough.
I’m not here to convince anyone whether the guilt they identify in their lives is true or false. Sometimes the examples listed above may involve sinful behavior if our hearts are driven by selfishness, idolatry, a fear-driven desire to protect our comforts, or other wrongful attitudes. However, often they are not sinful acts but rather false guilt that leads to deep shame. Sometimes, we can also find ourselves in an uncomfortable place of ambivalence as we grapple to understand whether we did or did not sin. In this case, God’s Word, the work of the Holy Spirit, and those in community around us—the church—will help us. I think these times of uncertainty are when the phrase “I feel guilty” comes up the most.
But maybe it is more than just semantics, this variance between guilt and shame. Each of these two ideas can lead us to very different places. Guilt, true biblical guilt, can lead us to repentance, forgiveness, and—ultimately—to freedom. Shame often moves us into one of two behaviors: hiding or running—or staggering somewhere between the two.
Hiders
The very first feelings of shame happened after Adam and Eve sinned in the garden (Genesis 3). Their guilt brought shame. They saw themselves as naked and exposed, and they hid. Rather than running to their holy God to seek shelter and confess their guilt, they hid behind a tree. This is also the first time we see individuals seeking refuge in God replacements rather than in God.
Some of us are hiders. When our guilt is before us, we cannot imagine being seen by others, especially by a holy God. Being exposed is our greatest fear. Our shame causes us to avoid or neglect others, detach from people and our responsibilities, dissociate from reality, develop coldness towards relationships that used to bring us joy, become critical of others to increase our own feelings of self-worth, or feel defensive and unprotected after even the smallest critique. We, as hiders, often deflect by blaming teammates or colleagues, withdrawing from intimacy and connection, and finding creative methods and God replacements to shield us from being seen.
Hiding feels safe. But the longer we hide, the more the fear of being exposed takes root in our hearts. We lose joy. We lose relationships. We lose freedom. Hiding becomes so automatic that we forget that there is a way out. We chain ourselves to the very shame that we so desperately seek to avoid. We feel utterly alone and wholly exposed.
Runners
Jesus told a parable about the prodigal son—a runner (Luke 15:11-32). The guilt of squandering his wealth with wild living led him to believe that he was completely unworthy to be seen by his father ever again. He ran from the very man that was waiting with open arms for his return.
Some of us run. We sprint through tasks, bulldoze over relationships, plow through deadlines, exploit our own abilities, pick up more projects than we can handle, overpromise, outperform, and burn out, all in an attempt to outrun our shame. Except, we cannot outrun shame. We can only continue in anguish, picking up the pace—doing more, pushing harder, hustling faster, vowing to abide by stricter regimes, finding better methods . . . no rest . . . no peace . . . just running.
Hope for Runners and Hiders
The gospel reaches into the heart of both runners and hiders—and those who find themselves between the two. Tim Keller explained that “the gospel says we are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe,”—that’s the guilt part of the story—“yet at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope”[1]—this is the part where grace and mercy replace shame. The gospel doesn’t ignore or excuse guilt, but it also doesn’t leave us alone in our attempts to escape it.
But we often don’t even realize that we are running and hiding, let alone have the ability to identify why. We fail to allow enough time in our days to contemplate the soul-needs that motivate our behavior. Let’s attempt to claim time to observe our running and our hiding tendencies. Let’s develop some curiosity about what lies behind them.
If we are running from guilt, we have a gracious God who promises that if we confess our sins, he is faithful to forgive us and to cleanse us of our guilt (1 John 1:9). Maybe we will also discover that we need to apologize to other people. There’s freedom in that too. Confess. Repent. Find Freedom. And remind yourself that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
As for the shame—the acts of running and hiding aren’t inherently bad; the question is rather where we are hiding and to whom are we running. The gospel beckons us to run to our Savior instead of running from our shame. The gospel also hides our shame and our guilt as our sins are covered in the sacrificial blood of Christ (Colossians 3:3).
“You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance. Selah.” (Psalm 32:7, emphasis added)
“The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe. (Proverbs 18:10, emphasis added)
[1] Timothy Keller and Kathy Keller, The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God (New York: Dutton, 2011).
