“Guardedness is the plague of the international church.” Long-time counselors to kingdom servants worldwide, Eric and Rachel DuFour made this bold statement in a workshop at the MICN Conference in 2018 and I have been thinking about it ever since. Guardedness is the inability to open one’s heart to deep connections. It is the compulsion to self-protect at the expense of authentic relationships and ministry. People in ministry are arguably some of the most guarded on the planet. For the person serving overseas among strangers of differing cultures, the ominous specters of the exposure of our true selves and possible rejection loom even larger and more threatening. Added to feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy are the expectations, requirements, and qualifications of denominations, sending agencies, and financial partners. No wonder, then, that the international church community must confront and address guardedness. Much like the transmission of disease, guardedness is a spiritual and emotional pathology unwittingly transmitted by self-protecting people. The results of guardedness are as catastrophic to the vitality of the international church as any plague of world history.
Guardedness is the outward expression of internal reality. But what is the root? We might identify several possibilities: simmering anger, pervasive fear, abiding regret, to name a few. A dominant yet largely unrecognized root is shame. The concept of shame is hard to define, but, at least to some degree, its experience is universal. Simply put, shame is the underlying belief (or bias) that one is permanently flawed at the core and therefore unworthy of acceptance and belonging. Shame may be felt and reinforced dozens of times a day by sometimes subtle, quiet, condemning self-talk. Principally, the response is to withdraw, emotionally if not physically.
Researchers say that generally, men respond to shame by getting “big”—loud, defensive, angry. Women, on the other hand, are more likely to get “small”—quiet, non-communicative (of anything self-revealing), almost invisible. Shame chokes off a person’s sense of worth, prevents heartfelt connection, and undermines the hope for change. Few options remain except to cover up what has been uncovered; to deny and conceal every weakness; and to steadfastly guard vulnerable exposure to others. Different from guilt, which stems from “what I have done,” shame stems from “what I am.”
Shame originated at creation’s fall. From the moment of choosing to go their own way against God’s command, the first humans realized vulnerable exposure, covered up, and hid (Genesis 3:7, 8). We have followed their footsteps ever since. Like every result of that tragic moment, shame is overcome at the cross of Christ. Hebrews 12:2 exhorts believers to fix their eyes on Jesus, “who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame.” The message of Christ’s endurance of suffering on the cross is proclaimed from pulpits the world over. But despising the shame? Not so much. It is not difficult to imagine that Jesus would despise something at the point of His agony: sin, Satan, death, separation from the Father—all come to mind. Most likely, shame would appear further down on a list of things that Jesus would despise at the cross. Yet, there it is. Despise means “to disdain, think little or nothing of.” While shame entered the world through the catastrophic fall, like sin itself, shame is rendered powerless through the cross.
In practical application, two key actions are paramount in despising shame (nullifying its affects): connection through mutually empathic and vulnerable relationships and the development of redemptive biases out of which we act.
Few knowledgeable practitioners (in any field) would dispute the importance of interpersonal connection to physical, emotional, and spiritual health. Here again, biblical truth reveals the heart of God for His creation. The stories of individuals throughout the Scriptures take place in the context of relationships in families, tribes, and nations; the fullness of divine revelation comes to us in incarnation; the church is birthed in the tumult of a city crowded and alive; witnesses are sent to the uttermost parts to share the Good News. Isolation is damaging on many levels. World-renowned author and speaker Brené Brown says her research indicates that “Loneliness is a greater early death predictor than smoking, obesity, and alcohol abuse.” Are we surprised? God said it first, “It is not good for the man to be alone” (Genesis 2:18).
What is the driving force that enables a person to “despise shame”? Redemptive bias is a term for core beliefs–anchors of the soul—that provide the foundation for decision and behavior. The Scriptures provide many examples of intrinsic values that transform paralyzing fear to courageous action, bubbling anger to humble deeds, and desperation to forward movement. In his groundbreaking work on emotional and social intelligence, Daniel Goldman says, a “negative bias clouds our lenses.” Conversely, then, would not a positive bias clearly sharpen our vision toward ourselves, others, and the world? Redemptive bias is more than positivity or a personal pep talk. It is the development of faith-filled, essential principles that reflexively guide our thoughts, words, and behaviors.
The story of Ruth in the Old Testament is a concise yet rich example of the power of connection and redemptive bias in overcoming guardedness rooted in shame. Two ex-pat women, different in many ways, despise every cultural shame thrust upon them by forging a mutually committed and vulnerable relationship and choosing to act time and again out of intrinsically held anchors of love, faith, and hope. The result changed their lives, the course of a nation, and world history.
Guardedness, like the concepts of connection and redemptive bias, is often overlooked because it seems nebulous, nondescript, shapeless. But then again, so are realities like love, peace, and grace. We know some things best by experience. If guardedness truly is a plague of the international church—silent, pernicious, contagious—then it must not be ignored.
Read: Cindy Brewer’s Dissertation
Cindy Brewer
Lead Pastor, Da Nang International Fellowship
Da Nang, Vietnam
