Sin and Shame

The latest issue of the Jesuit run Indian magazine, “The New Leader” carries a lead article on hat it calls the growing phenomena of “Drinking as a subculture of Priests”. The article begins with the candid admission that alcoholism thrives in shadows, secrets and silence. And then goes on to say that alcoholism thrives because alcoholics take refuge in shadow land because they are confused scared and above all ashamed.I like the candidness of the article and the willingness to admit that there is a problem and that there is a need to address it and that those affected by alcoholism need to be helped to cope with it and not pushed into the shadows.


The word that most deserves to be coupled with sin is salvation; but the words that typically accompany them are shame, stigma and the world of shadows. at this point, I am not commenting on whether alcoholism is a disease or a sin, but simply commenting on the attitudes of shame and stigma in people who display behaviors that is considered unconventional in a given culture or society.

The church is the community of redeemed sinners, but is often unfortunately the first to put its own fallen comrades into the shadows, and often very publicly. The secular world, which has never seen nor often experienced grace, is often found to be more tolerant; though this tolerance may be more passive tolerance than active assurance and acceptance. How important is grace Vis a Vis the judgment that we often use to push people into the shadows because they have a “problem”? Just how important is grace and acceptance in the church community? Well, the the apostle Paul, in practically all of his greetings, starts off by wishing them grace and peace. God gives us grace, but God also want us to have grace in our lives.

And He also wants us to give grace. As we have received grace in whatever facet, He wants us to give it. How have you experienced it? If you've been through a death-like situation, you're likely to be very encouraging to people who are in a death-like situation. If you've been sick in a particular way, you're probably able to comfort people who are sick in that same way.

It is important to use the grace of God in our lives. And having the grace of God does not mean we still don't fight ourselves, because the Apostle Paul said in 1 Corinthians 9:27, that he had to fight himself and keep himself in check lest after he had preached to others he himself be found a cast-away. The grace of God leads us to exert ourselves in a godly way. It leads us to ask for forgiveness. It leads us to receive forgiveness. It leads you to comfort, console, and give hope, to others.

The New Leader article zeroes in on the particular burden of the priests: they are representatives of the church and the church hierarchy; he often faces extra ostracism if he reveals his situation and suffers in isolation if he doesn’t. It is a bit of a Herculean task I admit; the church is a body of people is called upon to reflect the image of God all right and so what happens when you notice an aberration? What do you do? The New Testament on the odd occasion does recommend the ex communication and disfellowshipping of the odd person; but the end goal is still the same – that the person would be eventually restored into communion and community. Restoration is thus the eventual goal; and there are various methods to pursue this. But the gift of grace has a far larger role in the scheme of God’s things than we are ready to offer it – stigmatization and isolation is a lot simpler to do.

A Theology of Silence

Buddhism, once the domain of Ambedkar and his acolytes is now attracting more glamorous followers including in its ranks people like Priyanka Gandhi. The latest issue of Outlook talks about the Buddhist revival that is happening. middle class and page 3 crowd, typically associated more with partying are joining up for one of the many forms of Buddhism available today.

One of them is Vipassana which has its centre at Igatpuri near Mumbai and which I recently visited. the introduction to Vipasssana in the Igatpuri begins with a ten day introductory course which is quite austere. austerity of course was to be expected but what fascinates me most is the importance accorded to silence in the whole course: ten days of near total silence cut off from television, news papers and conversation of any kind. Such an atmosphere, it is said leads to a state of mental purification and “detox” when one is cut off from all polluting influences.

Surely silence has a lot of therapeutic effects, but in the Christian tradition, more specifically in the Protestant, Evangelical tradition, we don’t have much time and space for silence. Silence is for the monks and the nuns and of course we don’t have them either. And that is a pity.

It is difficult to fathom a reason but perhaps a reason could be the protestant, evangelical emphasis on the Word of God and the underlying assumption that the Word of god is meant to be heard; rather than meditated up on or even read. Hence the plethora of preachers and speakers and the importance given to them. The medium does not matter; it could be television or in crusades or revival meetings or churches. In this tradition, the very moment we think of planning an event or a program, in the very next breath, we ask, “but who will be the speaker?” a program without a speaker is sort of thinkable in our circles.

Of course the concept of silence is thoroughly biblical. Jesus spent long moment in silent contemplation. All four Gospels tell us that Jesus prayed. He prayed alone on mountains and in the wilderness. In the first centuries after Jesus’ life, most Desert monk/writers were familiar with silence--their own silence, and the silence of God. After the Reformation in the 16th century, Protestant denominations drew parishioners’ attention almost entirely to the Bible, to sermons and vocal prayer, and to the singing of hymns.

From then on we lost the tradition. Almost all post-Reformation denominations (except, e.g., the Quakers) focused (and still do focus) on the Word--reading the Bible, listening to sermons and trying to convert others by convincing them that our particular verbal formulations of scripture, of doctrine and of God’s identity are true in themselves. For most Protestant denominations, the words of Scripture, doctrine and creeds are themselves identified as holy. These Christian brothers and sisters do not seem to be interested in contemplative silence or in the possibility that the Triune God can show up between, beneath and beyond our words and stories--even beyond our sacred words and stories.

Those of us who value contemplative silence should remember that Jesus did not teach wordless, contemplative prayer explicitly. Yes, Jesus did pray alone, often going into the desert for solitude, and we can infer from his life and teaching that he learned about himself, his mission and God in silence. But contemplatives should not ignore the fact that Jesus ‘s spirituality was thoroughly relational. Jesus discerned God’s personal presence as he studied Hebrew scripture, and he preached. The Gospel writers tell us that God’s presence was conveyed powerfully through Jesus’s words. Jesus’s ministry tells us that very often the Good News is spoken, one to another, and the effect on the listener may be more powerful, meaningful and redemptive than if that listener had sat in meditation or contemplative prayer. we may need of course as in every thing, the right checks and balances but a theology of silence would add great value to evangelical spirituality.