The world today tells us to be shameless. It insists that we are always good, and that any flaw does not condemn us, but that it is actually a worthy part of our own, unique, perfection. The world today thinks that it rejects yesterday’s perfectionism, but it is just as obsessed with being flawless. Not by purging our sins, but by denying their very existence.
Shamelessness is very seductive, but it only soothes those that are able to stay in denial. Once a person is woken up to the reality of their own guilt, and are seared in their hearts by it, they are beyond the power of false comforts. Once we have truly seen our own unworthiness, our own deserving of hell, it doesn’t help to just pretend it isn’t there.
The message of the gospel, however, is neither perfectionism nor shamelessness. It does not call us to live in our shame, but neither does it call on us to repress it. The message of the gospel is based around fully acknowledging that we are flawed, and that it is serious, and that it does damn us…but also that we are loved by God anyway and He offers His life to cover us. Only the gospel message allows us to both fully embrace our guilt and fully embrace God’s grace.
An argument that is made for giving in to our hedonistic desires is that it is cruel to perpetually deny and disappoint ourselves. But really, disappointment is a given. For on the one hand we want one thing, but on the other hand we want its opposite.
We want to get away with telling lies, but we also want to be understood as we truly are. We want to lust, but we also want to have mastery over self. We want to treat ourselves as the center of the universe, but we also want to be part of something that bigger than ourselves. We want to be lazy, but we also want to be there when others need us.
Disappointment, frustration, self-denial…one way or another all of these are inevitable. And so long as one side of us has to be disappointed, why not make it be the carnal, selfish, and dishonest side?
I’ve spent this series having a pretend conversation with a person who is unsure about whether they have an addiction or not. I’ve approached the topic from different angles, providing an answer to to all of the responses I typically hear from such people. I believe that all these different angles can be grouped into two main categories, though, so let us review those.
In Denial)
At various times in these posts I have tried to hold a mirror up to all those that are in denial. I hope those that minimize or turn a blind eye to their weakness were able to face them more fully through this journey. I asked the person who thinks he can control his unhealthy indulgence to prove it by swearing it off entirely and seeing how it goes. I called out those who refuse to acknowledge the burdens they put on others. I invited all to take a full inventory of themselves, fearlessly tabulating their failures and flaws.
I personally believe that the majority of people have not stepped out of denial and honestly appraised their souls. And, in my experience, those that have not taken this critical step tend to put more evil into the world than good. By avoiding the hard questions, they are perpetuating burden and abuse upon everyone else, and they are the main driving force for the deterioration we see in society today.
Now I do realize that that is a very stern pronouncement to make, so let me follow it up by acknowledging the decades I spent being just such a person. I was in complete denial for years, and I certainly put substantial amounts of hurt and burden on other people as a result of it. I also admit that even after looking into the depths of my soul, I still have a tendency to flinch and turn away, to revert back to selfishness, to continue to cause harm to myself and others. What is more, this is the case with most, if not all, of those who have awakened to the reality of themselves. We have to repeatedly recognize our denial and return ourselves to a place of unflinching honesty in order to keep doing good.
Semantics and Society)
I have also considered those that do not necessarily deny the reality of their problems or the harm that they are causing, but who struggle to adopt the label of “addict” for various other reasons. They might feel that their behavior does not fit under the category of an addiction, even while admitting that it is compulsive, habitual, and destructive. To these people I suggested that it really doesn’t matter what they or anyone else calls that particular area of life. There is no need to debate whether it is to be referred to as a “problem area,” an “addiction,” or a “deadly sin.” There are members of my addiction group who introduce themselves as “I’m an addict,” others as “I struggle with unwanted behaviors,” and still others as “I’m a son of God.” It doesn’t matter that we use different terms and labels, just so long as we’re there to do the same work.
In this series I did push back on those who avoid admitting to their problems because of social pressures, though. Those who don’t want to be lumped with “addicts” tend to retain a sense that they are above the group. Anyone who is trying to admit that he is fundamentally flawed while still making distinctions between himself and the “other” fundamentally flawed people is in argument with himself. He is trying to hold onto his old us-vs-them worldview, while also realizing that “us” really aren’t any better than “them.”
In short, people in the “Semantics and Society” category need to break a few of their walls down. They need to accept the common humanity that encompasses us all, accept that all of us are broken, and talk about that brokenness without worrying about the labels attached to it.
On the Brink)
When I see someone teetering on the edge of joining our twelve-step group I feel a great excitement for them. They are lingering at the entrance, trying to let go of the old perspectives and agreements hold them back. They want to confess and surrender and throw themselves into an authentic way of life, but they need to cut ties with whatever lies still remain. There are only a few bonds left to sever, and if they manage it, then they are free to make the single most important choice of their entire life: the choice to live sincerely.
I do not think them petty because they struggle at the doorway. All of us who are in the room had to do that to some extent before we got through. Neither do I think that I can pull them in against their will. I can offer perspective and advice, but this is a choice that everyone has got to make on their own. Some of them choose to walk away, and there is nothing any of us can do to prevent that.
Here at my conclusion, I want to acknowledge that I have been blunt in these posts, but it is not because of any animosity towards those teetering on the edge. I merely wish to shine a bright light into whatever dark corners still remain for them. Clarity and honesty, even bluntness, are the best tools to combat any lingering self-deception.
If you have found yourself pacing at the doorway of recovery, but unable to pass through because you weren’t sure if you really had an addiction, then I hope this series has helped you to see the reality of the matter. I would love to welcome you into the community of the awakened as soon as you are ready to join us!
I’ve spent the last few posts speaking to those who recognize that part of their life is amiss, but who are reluctant to call their behavior an addiction. I’ve made the case that all of us need to strive for shameless authenticity, own our failings and admit where we need help.
I have also made the case that everyone is fundamentally flawed in one way or another. That is a claim that we immediately agree to when we hear it, but rarely do we consider the real weight of what those words mean. They mean we are going to hurt ourselves and also those around us. They mean that we are going to deny our better nature and live beneath our potential. They mean that we are going to actively put some evil out into the world.
Most of us are naturally flippant towards any serious accusation levied against us. Even if we agree that the complaint is valid, we’ll shrug our shoulders, say “no one’s perfect,” and quickly move past the issue. We don’t face the very real damage that is being done. We’re all genuinely screwing the world up around us, hurting each other in real and terrible ways, and virtually none of us own this fact. We just smile, shrug, say “no one’s perfect,” and keep our hearts sealed off.
Are you willing to start taking ownership for the evil you put into the world? Are you willing to face it with eyes wide open? Are you willing to hear the complaint of those that have been hurt without trying to justify or minimize your actions?
If your answer to the above is either “yes,” or even just “I want to be able to do that,” then you are ready to belong to the community of the awakened and striving.
A Community of Striving)
That community of the awakened and striving exists all throughout the world, intermingled with every culture and society. Its members live in broader organization, but often identify one another and coalesce together. Inside the churches is the subgroup of those who are truly faithful. Inside the non-profit charities is the coalition of those who are sincerely serving. Inside the government institution is the cabal of those who are genuinely trying to improve the world.
One place I have found where these awakened souls congregate is in the twelve-step programs scattered across the world. These communities are full of men and women who are willing to face the reality of the evil they are putting into the world and are seeking the help of a Higher Power to stop doing so. They come into this way of thinking because of their addictions, but then expand it to address all other forms of evil in their lives as well.
I have seen people drag their feet at the door to a twelve-step program because they weren’t sure whether their problems qualified as a full-on addiction or not. But we in the group aren’t going to be checking your “addiction credentials” at the door. There is no “group police” who are going to kick you out because you aren’t messed enough to be here. All that we ask is that you are sincere about facing your flaws and obtaining a life that is sober from your negative impulses. If you’re willing to do that work, then you are ready to join the crew.
I’ve already talked about our tendency to minimize our addictions, and I have encouraged all to bring their full resolve to addressing these “minimal” issues, so that they may quickly ascertain how “minimal” they really are. At the end of my last post, I suggested that even if one discovers that their vices are not a matter of choice, but of compulsion, they might still be reluctant to call their situation an addiction.
There are a few reasons why this might be, let us first consider that the person might have an aversion to that label due to social pressure. Most of us are blind to just how much we are molded by the society around us, so our addict-in-denial probably doesn’t even recognize this factor in his life at first. Through introspection, he may realize that he has always heard of addicts in association with murderers, liars, the homeless, and thieves. He has considered anyone with that title to be hopeless, broken, and perverse. In short, he views the label “addict” prejudicially.
He might express a fear of how others will view him if he labels himself as an addict. He knows that the label is stigmatized, for he has held that same stigma, and he is terrified that others will assume all manner of perversions about him that are inaccurate. He, himself, remains suspicious of addicts as a whole. He views them as an unpredictable group, and he only meets with them while inwardly pinching his nose. Frankly he believes that he is better than them. Thus, he would rather find a term that tells gives people a more favorable view of his problems.
And while that may sound terrible and judgmental, it is a completely understandable place for one to begin their journey. So many of the very people in the twelve steps started in just the same way. We have all had many years to reinforce the stereotypes of what an “addict” is, and it is going to take some time for us to broaden our perspective. We have to learn to let go of our bias and see things with more honesty and nuance.
Not That Bad)
But ignorance and bias are not the only possible reasons why one might be averse to calling himself an addict. Another reason might be that our one genuinely doesn’t think his problem qualifies under the category of addiction. Most of us feel that only certain sorts of actions can belong to an addiction. And maybe this is accurate, and maybe it isn’t, really this is merely a matter of semantics.
Some, for example, feel that an addiction must involve some sort of foreign chemicals. Thus, they would say that one could not be addicted to overeating. Others say that it doesn’t have to be a chemical, but the taking in of some substance must be involved, which would rule out being addicted to pornography or gambling.
There are also many different opinions as to how afflicted one must be before their situation can be considered an addiction. There is a sense that there is a quota of suffering and senseless behavior that must be met before the addiction is official.
But frankly, in this case arguing semantics isn’t very meaningful. So long as one realizes when and where they are powerless over their behavior, and acknowledges that they need drastic changes and external help, then who cares what they call it?
I have my own issues that fall into this gray area. One of them is my seeming refusal to get to bed on time. Every day I tell myself that I’m going to, I know that I am going to suffer if I don’t, yet night after night I find myself making the same unhealthy choice to stay up too late. Does that really qualify as an addiction? Even by the most broad and inclusive definition of the term, it seems a bit of a stretch. But I don’t care. If someone decided to call this problem of mine an addiction, I would feel absolutely no need to correct them. My addictions and my compulsive negative behaviors still live under the same umbrella, and I still need to work on each of them in the same way. In all cases I need to identify my triggers, discover my underlying mental and emotional states, seek support from understanding friends, and surrender my failings to my Higher Power.
“Addiction” or “compulsive negative behavior?” It just doesn’t matter. That which we call a thorn, by any other name, would pierce just as painfully. So long as we are no longer in denial about our affliction and our powerlessness, we may call it whatever we will. If you feel reluctant about labeling yourself an addict, I would simply encourage you to consider what the reason for that is. Is it due to some social bias, or have you become hung up on semantics? In either case, can you set aside the periphery and deal with the problem honestly and wholeheartedly? Are you humble enough to get the help you need?
One would hope that a man and woman wouldn’t have any secrets from one another by the time they decide to get married, but this is far from guaranteed. Certainly I was guilty of keeping my wife in the dark from all the deepest parts of me. Previously I mentioned that I kept my addiction to lust concealed from her, but that wasn’t all, I was also hiding my wounds.
It may seem a strange thing, but I was able to tell my wife about my problems with pornography before I could tell her how I got hit as a child, and how I felt ashamed for wincing before each blow. Obviously the addiction was the part of my life that made her more upset, the one that directly hurt her, but it still was the easier thing for me to confess to. I never thought that she would despise me for having suffered abuse, but talking about it brought up areas that were still raw and tender. I couldn’t go there without bringing up all of the attached horrible feelings, so I had always stayed away.
My heart is broken within me; all my bones shake - Jeremiah 23:9
Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children;
And unto Adam he said, cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; - Genesis 3:16-17
All of us have these deep, soul-shaking wounds. As Brené Brown has said, “Every single person has a story that will break your heart. Nobody rides for free.”
If you listen to the stories of two different people, one might have endured a more horrifying pain for a more extended period of time, but both lives will still hold significant trauma. The hardest thing you have ever had to go through, no matter how small it might seem compared to others, is still the hardest thing you have ever had to go through. Simply by virtue of being your greatest pain, it will warp your psyche and become your personal definition of suffering.
Coming to terms with that pain, and developing our relationship with it, is one of the most difficult things we will ever do in life. Virtually all of us will make mistakes in this arena, and we will come up with flawed reactions that end up causing even more pain further down the road.
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives - Luke 4:18
And the Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole: and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live. - Numbers 21:8
Jesus teaches us that it is good for us to mourn our sorrows, and reassures us with the knowledge that we can be comforted (Matthew 5:4). But there is a clear line between mourning our sorrows and wallowing in them. It is one thing to recognize that you have been a victim, and another to make victimhood your key defining feature.
Over-identifying with our pains and obsessing on what happened to us can lead us to reject the deliverance that is offered, because we start thinking that healing means saying our wounds didn’t matter. Even more perversely, holding on to our damage can be used as a way to justify our own misbehavior afterward. Thus, God is offering us to look to him and live, but we first have to choose to stop remaining a prisoner.
And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. - Ether 12:27
Thus says the LORD: "Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength" - Jeremiah 17:5
The intended effect of our wounds is that in our weakness we might turn to God, who will heal and make us strong. But that requires stepping fully into our hurt, letting it wash over us, and asking for God to meet us in the middle of all that pain. But what if He doesn’t show up? What if we are consumed?
It is natural to have a fear of facing the pain, and thus many of us will never even try to take that step. We instead try to bury our wound. We act tough, we say “yeah, it happened, but so what?” We claim that our wounds made us stronger, that they made us grow a thicker skin. Or maybe we try to deny that they ever happened, changing the subject anytime someone brings the matter up. In either case, we put on a show that the wounds are unimportant and don’t need to be examined, and that we are well and past them, but nothing could be further from the truth. If we really were past them, there would be no fear of bringing them into the light. A tough wall around the wound only reveals how upset we still are about it.
Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows - Isaiah 53:4
Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. - Revelations 3:20
One way or another, wound tends to lead to building up walls. Sometimes walls are a good thing, a necessary survival mechanism for keeping our oppressor out. Our natural instinct with physical wounds is also to cover them up, to shield them from any outside aggravation. But walls tend not to discriminate. Often they keep everything out, not only the source of the pain. Obviously this becomes a problem if we now stand before the physician and we still can’t expose our wound for healing. We need to let the physician in, even if it will initially cause even more pain, so that we can start becoming better.
Jesus stands at the door and knocks. He is reverential and respectful of our pain, so he does not force his way into our wounds. If we absolutely refuse his healing he will wait. If we never accept his help he will never force it upon us. But he really can help us if we will let him. He has felt it, he has borne it, he has descended into it and risen above it.
If we will not let Christ in, then the wound will fester. It will grow and it will infect. Most addicts don’t initially recognize the connection between their shameful behavior and the unhealed pains for their youth, but through time and exploration the links become clear. One of the greatest sources of trouble in our lives is things that we should have cried about but never did.
***
At the start of this post I mentioned being struck as a child. This pain was most typically the result of not being able to play quietly enough. I was expected to keep entertained by myself, in a way that was contained and non-intrusive. I would try to do that, really I would, but I was a boisterous boy, and I would raise my volume without realizing it, and then I would be hit. A few days ago I mentioned that a key part of my façade is that I try to be a people pleaser, never a bother to anyone. Can you see the connection to that from this wound?
There was also a wound of isolation. I was homeschooled, and any would-be friends were told over-and-over that I wasn’t able to play with them until they stopped asking altogether. As I came into my adolescence I wanted to have meaningful relationships with girls, but I was such an outsider to every social norm that I could never relate to them. Can you see how this wound connects to my addiction for pretend-love-on-demand?
And there were also wounds for being unintelligent. I was pushed to get into college as early as possible, being punished when I did poorly on the admission tests, and being treated as the stupid child for not making it in until I was sixteen. Can you see why I cheated for better grades and made up a façade of being ultra-intelligent?
Our shame is nothing more than a misguided way to cope with our wounds. It tries to alleviate painful shortcomings, but tragically it often does so in a way that only reinforces them. Relying on cheating and lust gave me artificial grades and relationships in the short term, but they further confirmed to me that I wasn’t intelligent or social enough for the real thing.
Our façade is nothing more than an over-compensation for the wound, where we pretend to be all the things that our wounds have told us we are not. In our childhood mind it seemed that we were denied connection and love because of these shortcomings, and so we end up with the false belief that we must project strengths in these areas to be worthy of that connection love.
And so, the wound is a layer deeper than either the shame or the façade, but it is not the true core of who we are either. Defining ourselves based on our wound prevents us from living with truth and joy, same as identifying at the other two levels. There still remains a deeper layer to uncover.
In fact, the reason the wound hurts us so much, is because it is a direct assault at that deeper core. Our wounds put us on such a long and misguided path because they make us forget who we really are. They make us forget our own divine self.
Spiritual Wanderings 