Aren't We Better Than That?

A Conversation

“What do you think about abortion?” I ask. A young man stops, and says that it is always wrong. His religion says so.

A while later, he comes back, and is not so sure. He has thought about it, and he gives me a situation when abortion would make sense. A unmarried young woman gets pregnant. She has brought shame on the family. Abortion would make the problem go away.

Confused and a little concerned, I introduce the infant – same situation, but the baby is born before anyone else finds out. This simple pro-life tactic usually helps to clarify that the situation doesn’t actually justify killing. He doesn’t get it. We go back and forth a bit. He gives another example. If he had a daughter, and she got pregnant he would tell her to get an abortion or leave the house. He continues to explain that if she refused to get the abortion, and had the baby, he might never talk to her again.

Then he stops himself.

Well, that would never happen to me, because if I had a daughter, I would treat her right, so she would never do that.

Shocked, I don’t know what else to say. He’s only a high school student, and he clearly doesn’t know much about how life works. He speaks so confidently.

Somehow the conversation ends, but it isn’t resolved.

Shame and Honour Culture

During debrief, I explain the conversation to the others.

One of them has spent some time in the Middle East. He explains that honour culture is really strong there, and many Muslims do think that way. Among other things, it is actually fine in honour culture to lie to avoid getting into trouble. Preserving a reputation matters more than telling the truth or saving a life. The coverup is not worse than the crime.

As horrible as it sounds, the explanation makes sense to me.

Eventually, I start reading a little more about the topic. The APA Dictionary of Psychology defines a culture of honour as

a cultural norm in a region, nation, or ethnic group prescribing immediate, definitive retribution as the preferred reaction to an insult or other transgression, particularly one that threatens a person’s reputation.

Fascinating stuff. I find another definition of honour-shame cultures from HonorShame, a website for Christians ministering in honour-shame cultures.

They are collectivistic societies that use the moral values of honor and shame to regulate behavior. Thus, people’s primary response to sin is shame and disgrace (not guilt). The primary motivation in social situations is avoiding disgrace and maintaining harmonious relationships. Life is viewed through the prism of acquiring honor for the community. Honor-shame cultures value hospitality, family, respect, community, generosity, purity, loyalty, and patronage.

This definition feels a little less foreign to me. It’s even possible to think about different types of honour and shame in different cultures.

We’re Better Than That. Are We Good Enough?

I personally know several grandparents of children who were conceived outside of marriage. They’re overjoyed about the existence of their grandchildren. They love them. They’re so excited and happy about them. Our culture is different. We know better than to be so obsessed with our reputation, right?

Still, I wonder a bit about shame and the instinct to hide. It’s as old as sin itself. (Genesis 3:8) I resonate deeply with the idea of preserving my reputation. I know that I prefer to hide my problems.

I wonder about my own first instincts about an unmarried pregnant woman. Would I assume guilt, even though she might be the victim of coercion, manipulation, and sexual assault? Would I want the problem child to just disappear? Do I really want to do the right thing, or do I just want to look good?

I wonder about my reaction to someone who is suffering from a mental illness. Maybe I’m wondering what they did wrong, or I’m afraid that helping will be complicated. Maybe I would just like the problem to go away. Maybe it’s just temporary, and it will go away without bothering me anymore. Logically, I know that it isn’t the only possibility. It might go away because it’s carefully hidden, and I might never see anything more about it. It might keep getting bigger, until it’s impossible to ignore, and helping will be so much harder. Maybe I’m just afraid that helping will be hard.

I wonder about my reaction to someone who divorces an abuser. The divorce tells me what I never wanted to know. It tells me that there really are abusers in our church, in our family, in our social circle. Maybe it would be easier to believe that abuse just doesn’t happen, because we raise our kids right, and so that would never happen. Maybe the problem will just go away if we tell her not to divorce the abuser, and just to be more patient with him.

I wonder about our reaction to anyone who is suffering. Sometimes, we support them. We care and we love. We spontaneously know how a community is supposed to work. And sometimes, silence. And not the silence of privacy either, because there are whispers and rumours. It’s both too embarrassing to speak openly, and too interesting for complete silence. Maybe one or two people stand up to help.

These people, they’re close to us. These embarrassing moments, they happen to us. They happen to kids who were raised right, to kids in our church, where they learned all the right things.

Is it easier to pretend that if we just taught our kids right, embarrassing things would never happen?

Sin, Shame, and Forgiveness

But there’s a problem. Shame isn’t always something that people just make up to feel bad. Sin really is shameful. It’s more than embarrassing. It’s dangerous. It ruins the relationship with God. What can we do? Accepting my sin will not make it go away. How is it possible to stop wallowing in shame? How can I stop feeling the need to justify myself by putting shame on others, whether they deserve it or not?

Dear Christian, Jesus took our shame. His name was dishonoured and mocked, both in His religious community, (John 9:22) and in front of the whole world. (John 19:1-5) He took the bad reputation that you and I deserve. (Hebrews 12:2) Because of that, we’re free. We’re free to do what’s right, and honour God, even when that isn’t good for our own nice, pious Christian reputation.