Questions are Hard

I have a million thoughts swirling around in my head. “I need to write another blog post, the last one hit home with people! Yikes, now I have something to live up to… Self-care and being an amateur are safe topics, what if people don’t want to hear the other things I am pondering? What if I go too far and they stop listening?”

The Seattle School is like a playground for hard questions, deep questions. Do you have a question? It’s welcome here. Do you want to revaluate your belief system and examine your inner biases? Come on in! Even if you don’t want to do those things, you’re going to learn so many different things that your head will be swirling with new thoughts or maybe old thoughts that you never finished.

Deconstructing your beliefs isn’t exactly the motto evangelical culture (the culture in which I grew up) is built on. Asking questions might be outwardly encouraged, but the subtext is to ask the “right” questions. The “right” questions don’t challenge currently held beliefs, current systems, or current leaders. The “right” questions might change you inwardly, but as long as they don’t rock the boat.

That sounds harsh. Doesn’t it? Maybe you are reading this and saying, I don’t do that. Not my church, not my family, not my organization. Maybe your reading this and saying, I’m not a Christian or a part of a church. Surely this doesn’t apply to me.

Has anyone ever asked you a question and you tense up? Have you ever had a convicting thought and shoved it aside? Have you ever set a goal to change in a positive way and then felt a sense of inner resistance to change? Maybe even an outward resistance to change?

Psychologists notice this too. In the book Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, by Gottlieb (highly recommend this book) she explains that we all live within systems. Everyone has their role in the system and when they try to change often other members of the system are resistant to it. This is why friends might encourage someone who is trying to quit drinking to have one more drink. This is why a family member might encourage another family member to skip the gym today and hang out with family. When you change, everyone around you has to adjust. We humans are bad at change.

In my Battle of Shame class, the professor recently said, “we are loyal to our shame.” That hit me like a ton of bricks. So often, my head knows something, but my heart doesn’t know that thing. I know negative self-talk is pointless and harmful, yet I still call myself an idiot when I forget a deadline or can’t find my phone. I know I made progress on an exercise goal but exercising and my body image is so wrapped up in shame that I can’t be fully proud of myself. I am resistant to let these ways of being, go. I am loyal to my shame.

Shame is a big and scary word. We have literally spent weeks of class defining it and exploring it, learning how to identify it. I’m itching to get to the part of learning to deal with it, yet my head knows that identifying it is half the battle. We all know shame. We know that inner cringe, the sweaty palms, red face, don’t look at me feeling.

The thing about shame, is it is so painful that we don’t want to look at it.

What does this have to do with asking questions? When we ask hard questions, we are opening up the opportunity for change. Maybe I will have to change a belief, a habit, a way of life. Then comes in the bully, shame. Shame distracts us from the question, floods us with emotion, and leads us to shutting down and shutting up.

What does this have to do with evangelical culture? I mean we’ve all heard Chris Tomlin’s version of “Amazing Grace.” The lines “My chains are gone. I’ve been set free. My God, my Savior has ransomed me,” surely imply that we aren’t a slave to shame, right? Well, yes and no. Yes, we don’t have to be loyal to shame. However, while we are still battling it out here on this side of heaven (to throw some Christianese at you), we have to fight shame. That means as a culture we have to stop demonizing whistleblowers and dissenters and start examining our shame.

If you’ve ever asked a well-meaning question, such as “we preach helping the widow, why do we not do that?” and the response is a dismissal “oh we do” and referencing an organization that a handful of members of the church are aware of, that’s probably shame talking. If something big happens in the world and you are anticipating a sermon dedicated to how to acknowledge this injustice, and instead, you receive a sermon about how we must focus on heaven. That’s probably shame talking. It’s easier to ignore the things that make us uncomfortable or feel inadequate than address them.

If you aren’t a part of a church, there’s still plenty of ways shame shows up. If you have ever been a part of an academic organization and been told “things used to be worse, so why are you complaining.” That might be shame talking. If you have ever asked made a small suggestion of change to your boss or asked for a raise and they took it personally, there’s an element of shame there. If I admit that this organization is flawed, and you saw it not me, what does that say about me?

Shame is so sneaky, so pervasive.

I’m not sure how to address this on systems level. However, on a personal level we can start to notice shame.

Next time you feel resistant to a question, a political idea, a suggestion, ask yourself “when did shame walk into the room?” Don’t shove the uncomfortable question aside. Research it, analyze it, pray about it. Listen to both sides. Sure, ask a pastor or leader about it, but don’t take their word for it. Do the work. Ask where is their shame showing up? Where do I feel resistance? And remember, asking questions is hard, and that’s ok.