Commandments vs Shame

There is a particular conundrum that has troubled me all my life. On the one hand, I believe that God fiercely and lovingly calls me to be better. Because He cares for me, and wants me to have a fullness of joy, He invites me to step out of my baser self, inspiring and motivating me to become the sort of man that I can be proud of. Part of Him calling me into that higher place is the giving of His commandments, which I truly believe in my head are a sign of His love.

On the other hand, I still struggle to get that conviction down into my heart. When I am reminded of all the commandments, and particularly the ones that I’m not doing so great at, I can’t help but have a great upwelling of shame and resentment. In that moment the commandments don’t feel like a balm of love at all, they feel like a stick of punishment. Perhaps it is due to the way that I was raised. I don’t have any memories of being told, “I love you so much, and I don’t want this behavior for you because I know it will hurt you.” I heard things that sounded more like, “How could you even do that?! That’s so disgusting! It’s so beneath you!”

The result: I feel like I am caught between a false choice. If you’ll excuse the mixed metaphors, on the one hand I can take God’s commandments and the shame of not living up to them together, which is like eating a cupcake with a razor blade in it, or I can discard them both, which is like throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

For a long time, I didn’t even know that this was a false choice, because I didn’t know there was a third option until I became immersed in my therapy group, 12-step meetings, and spiritual retreats with Warrior Heart. In these places I found the elusive union of commandments and love that I had been starved for. I found brotherhoods of broken men who were very real about wanting to be better men, but who strove for it with encouragement and connection instead of disparagement and abandonment. In these brotherhoods shame only made an appearance when it was being laid to rest, and transformational change actually seemed like a joyful thing, even something fun!

But while I’ve seen that there’s a better way, I don’t stay in that message at all times. When I go back home I start slipping back into my old mindset of commandments=shame. I set goals for how to step further into the life God has for me, I fall short on those goals, and I feel ashamed for not measuring up.

Jesus promised us that he would put within us a “well of water springing up into everlasting life” (John 4:14), which sounds to me like having a constant connection to the love of God. Jesus even said that those he gave access to this water would “never thirst again,” so why do I find myself getting thirsty again all the time?

I don’t know that this is the full answer, but the last time I read these promises of Jesus I noticed he never said that the establishment of this constant nourishment would happen in an instant. Out in nature, rivers do not burst forth all-at-once in full force. First there are little creeks that twist and turn around every bend and obstacle. The creeks combine into medium-sized streams that babble happily over small rocks that once would have stood in the way. Streams, in turn, merge into full-sized rivers, strong and purposeful, that carve the very earth to accommodate their passage. Maybe Jesus has put a little creek in me, and I’m still finding my way to the stream, the river, and the deeper seas that lay beyond. That’s alright. I can just allow myself to be part of the flow, winding back-and-forth around the obstacles that I can’t pass over yet, staying with the trickle to see where it takes me. Maybe just by learning to go with God’s flow I’ll already be adding a few more drops of water to my channel.

By Abe, Writing Team