When the Good Samaritan tended the wounds of a man beaten by robbers, he didn’t use a spray gun to apply the healing oil and wine (Luke 10:25-37). He dressed the actual wound. It should be the same when we go to the Scriptures. Where’s my wound that needs Jesus’ touch?
I saw a local news report that a good percentage, I can’t remember the exact number, of teenagers are ashamed of their body image. Our preaching the forgiveness of sins doesn’t directly touch that hurt. On the other hand, many people show no modesty in their conduct, no hint of shame. Shamed or unashamed, the forgiveness of sins is no longer the lens through which many Americans see life and truth.
Brene Brown: “The majority of shame researchers and clinicians agree that the difference between shame and guilt is best understood as the difference between ‘I am bad’ and ‘I did something bad.’ Guilt = I did something bad. Shame = I am bad.” Brown offers some examples. “Shame was my response to seeing my parents’ shame when I came out. Shame is covering up a mistake at work and getting caught. Shame is failing at my business after my friends invested in it. Shame is getting a promotion, then getting demoted six months later because I wasn’t succeeding. Shame is my boss calling me a loser in front of our colleagues.” (Brene Brown, Dare to Lead, 125-128).
The public life of the church and our private devotions should be like the inn where the wounded man recovered, a safe environment where we can be open about our hurts and shame. “I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is in my flesh” (Romans 7:18). Just as an infection is treated from inside the body, the Gospel of forgiveness gives a new heart, a new identity. I am honored by God and by my fellow forgiven, or so the life of the Church should be. “No one who believes in him will be put to shame” (Romans 10:11). “Grace has the power to do what nothing else can do—rescue you from you, and in so doing, restore you to what you were created to be” (Paul Tripp, New Morning Mercies, June 19).