The walk of shame

Jerusalem has sinned greatly
and so has become unclean.
All who honored her despise her,
for they have all seen her naked;
she herself groans
and turns away.
Her filthiness clung to her skirts;
she did not consider her future.
Her fall was astounding;
there was none to comfort her. Lamentation 1: 8-9

For any of you who have watched ‘Game of Thrones’, I’m sure at this point, like me, you are imagining Cersei taking her Walk of Atonement through the city in the final episode of Season Five. She has been Queen. She is now Mother of the King. She is rich and powerful and beautiful. She is haughty and cruel and self-seeking. No one warms to her. And yet when you see her walking naked with her head shaved through the city streets from the Temple to the Palace – exposed, alone, humiliated – and you see the crowds hurl abuse and rotten food at her, your heart goes out to her. This is the worst kind of humiliation. Her sins have been exposed and she is being made to pay -this is her walk of shame.

The city of Jerusalem has found itself shamed. Once great and revered, now unclean and despised and exposed.

Her fall was astounding.

Now the enemy has laid hands on all her treasures. She has been plundered.

The pagans have trampled through all the sacred places. She has been violated.

Jerusalem’s  people barter their treasures for food.

Jerusalem’s warriors are defeated and trampled on the ground.

My sins have been bound into a yoke;
by his hands they were woven together.
They have been hung on my neck,
and the Lord has sapped my strength.
He has given me into the hands
of those I cannot withstand.  Lamentations 1:14

You can sense the crushing sense of loss, the bewilderment, the shame in these words, can’t you? Jerusalem thought that she was exempt from this kind of suffering and humiliation because God was on her side. She took advantage of God’s love and mercy. And now she is suffering in shame and utter degradation.

Throughout history, there have always been those who feel they are above the law. That their wrongdoings will never be found out. And then they are brought low. They are exposed. And the people delight in their humiliation. Take that MPs’ Expenses Scandal of several years ago – how complacent politicians living a comfortable life were suddenly stripped of their reputation and lifestyle. It happens.

And it can happen to us too. Sometimes through our own wrongdoing, sometimes seemingly not our fault. But shame finds a way to creep in either way.

Our marriage breaks down and we feel shame.

Our child is arrested and we feel shame.

Our health deteriorates and we feel shame.

Our friendship falls apart and we feel shame.

We lose our job and we feel shame.

We should have done more. We should have tried harder. We should have done the right thing. We should have been stronger, loved more, been a better person. We have failed.

Being brought low leaves us in an uncomfortable position. We are exposed. Our reputation is damaged. We seem weak and tainted and isolated.

If we have done wrong, sometimes we do need to atone for what we have done. We maybe need to apologise or pay someone back somehow or be punished by law. There will be consequences.

And wherever there is shame, we need to find a way to own it and deal with it. To admit that we have failed. To seek forgiveness – from others, from ourselves, from God. To uncover our faces. To find a way to look others in the eye again. To pick ourselves up and keep walking forward.

I feel a sense of shame every time I remember that day when I took my adopted daughter to Social Services and said ‘I can’t do this anymore’. I admitted defeat. I failed as a mother to care for my child. It broke my heart. I was deeply ashamed.

I’m not saying I was wrong. Or that I felt I had a choice. I know what looked like weakness actually took immense strength. But I felt overwhelming shame at what I had done. I knew she would not understand. I knew others would not understand. Even my husband would struggle to understand. I felt humiliated. Like I was saying I was not fit to be a mother. And it hurt. It hurt so much But who would be there to comfort me when I had seemingly brought this on myself?

Two years on and I still struggle to talk about this day. I struggle to lift my head and look people in the eye when talking about it. I still feel ashamed that it came to this. That I am somehow to blame. I feel a failure as a mother.

That is my shame that I carry with me. That I need to find a way to deal with once and for all.

What is yours?