“Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood.
Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.”
~Marie Curie
A few years ago, I facilitated a Christian study group that included a variety of local women, a few men, and several people from Latin American countries. One of the men from a Central American country asked why, given Jesus was from the Middle East, all the artwork in the local churches he’d attended depicted a very white-skinned Mary and Jesus. A discussion about colonialism and oppression followed. One woman, obviously distressed, asked what she was supposed to do about the situation. She was a compassionate White woman – I’ll call her Betty – who cared about injustice. Her fear was that she was somehow being held responsible for what people with her skin color had done in the past and therefore should feel ashamed. She wondered if she was expected to atone for shameful behavior she personally had nothing to do with.
I was very glad Betty expressed her concerns. As facilitator, I realized I needed to change the atmosphere in the room so people could focus on understanding the past, not feeling ashamed of it. Shaming is often counterproductive. If we perceive that someone is trying to make us feel bad about ourselves, our defensive survival instincts kick in. We want to stay out of trouble and fear losing the respect of others. Therefore we look for reasons to justify the wrong we believe we’re being accused of. We may blame others in an attempt to keep a clear conscience. Our curiosity shuts down as does our desire for understanding. We quit listening and instead, engage in self-protection and defensive maneuvers.
There’s a difference between shame and guilt. Shame is feeling degraded and humiliated about who we are. Shame creates the fear of being ostracized and losing power. Guilt, however, is feeling bad about the wrong we have done and involves owning our mistake. It hopefully motivates us to make better decisions in the future. As Maya Angelou said, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” Guilt allows us to change while retaining our dignity.
I didn’t want Betty to feel ashamed and assured her the goal of our conversation was understanding. Understanding is what helps us do what Jesus advised: love our neighbor, love our enemies. Understanding is what can turn enemies into friends. It leads to compassion and a desire to make good on what we recite in the Pledge of Allegiance: “liberty and justice for all.”
Feeling empathy and sadness when learning about injustice and oppression helps us appreciate the struggles of our fellow humans and discover our common humanity. Curiosity regarding why events happened and how people came to feel the way they do enlightens us. But great conversations only occur when everyone feels respected and heard, their dignity intact.
The movement against diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) and the concern about being “woke” seems to have been ignited by feelings like the ones Betty expressed. I hear comments like:
“I wasn’t even alive back then, don’t go blaming me.”
“My family and I work hard and ‘those people’ need to quit complaining and being so lazy.”
“‘Those people’ get so many benefits and freebies. That’s why they don’t want to work. It’s White people who are discriminated against.”
It’s human to form hierarchies and rank ourselves. We talk about upper and lower social classes; first, second, and third world nations; high to low test scores. I still remember walk/running a half-marathon together with my young niece who was petrified that we would come in last. Trying to help her avoid being on the bottom rung almost gave me a heart attack.
That same human desire to excel, achieve, and at least not come in last, can inspire great things. But it may also explain why people with privilege and power are so afraid of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) and being “woke,” which means being aware of social injustices and sensitive to inequality. It feels good to be on top and it’s natural to fear losing resources and power. We hang on tight to what we have because it’s frightening to think we may not have enough. That we may not be enough.
Some Christians are very fond of the god of the Old Testament who was often portrayed as playing favorites and smiting groups that irritated him. That god didn’t like diversity, equity, or inclusion. Some want to display the Bible’s Old Testament Ten Commandments in school, but not the words of Jesus, whose commandment was to love one another (John 13:34) and follow the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. (Luke 6:31). And Jesus didn’t make exceptions for people we personally would rather not see join us in heaven.
It’s very hard to love and forgive people who offend us, and our human pride will stand in the way of loving anyone who tries to shame us. The beauty of love and genuine forgiveness is that we trade in our pride for humility. Humility is awesome because we let go of our desire to be exceptional or superior and make peace with both our strengths and our weaknesses. We’re not afraid to listen to different perspectives, acknowledge our mistakes, and change our minds. Winston Churchill said, “Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.”
“Peace cannot be kept by force;
it can only be achieved by understanding.”
~Albert Einstein
We often shy away from conversations about controversial subjects involving politics and religion because they light an emotional fuse in us. Our shame detector goes off if we’re afraid of losing power, giving up resources, being embarrassed, or losing our dignity. If we flip the switch, however, and light up at the thought of learning more about the thoughts and fears of our fellow humans, we can attain something more precious than gold. Understanding.
Image thanks to Gracini Studios from Pixabay





