
This week is an “off” week for me. I was actually at a retreat center in Sewanee for the final weekend cohort with a group of women who work in the non-profit community in Chattanooga. I ended up going Saturday morning because Sydney’s birthday was Friday and, well obviously, family comes first. But, honestly, I didn’t want to go at all.
September is always a challenging month for us. With National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month in full swing, and Sydney and Brayden being in Huntsville, things have been a bit more hectic than usual. I really needed the break, but moments like these tend to feel more stressful than restful.
However, something shifted for me last Sunday, and I can still feel the ripple effects of that shift. Hopefully, those ripples continue—and spark even more meaningful changes.
One of the women opened up to the group, sharing a personal struggle and reflecting on the powerful grip shame can have. It was a sobering reminder of how deeply shame can take root, especially in spaces meant for healing. The church, unfortunately, has a long history of being one of the worst offenders in this regard. Rather than offering grace and understanding, it often amplifies feelings of guilt, leaving people feeling judged and unworthy.
This tendency to weaponize shame is especially heartbreaking, considering that the very essence of faith is meant to be about love, acceptance, and redemption. Yet, too often, the church becomes a place where people are made to feel like they must hide their imperfections, reinforcing a cycle of shame that can be incredibly hard to break.
What makes this issue even more frustrating is the silence it imposes. There’s a rule in many church circles that you can’t speak out against the institution itself. Leaders are typically quick to underscore the need for loyalty unity, framing any critique as an attack on the church as a whole. Some are told that raising concerns is divisive—or worse, as going against God.
This creates a toxic environment where people are unable to voice their pain or call out harmful practices. Instead of fostering open conversations and accountability, it discourages honest dialogue. It’s as if protecting the institution becomes more important than protecting the very people it’s meant to serve. And so, the cycle of shame deepens, with those who are already struggling being made to feel like they must carry their burden in silence.
Shame is also used as a tool of control within many church communities, and it’s especially damaging to women. When shame is wielded as a weapon to keep people in line, or maintain power structures, fear of judgment often outweighs personal growth, healing, and authentic connection with others and with faith. The power of shame is that it doesn’t just control behavior; it controls identity. When women are constantly told that they are “less than” for the choices they’ve made or the lives they lead, it doesn’t just impact their actions—it warps how they see themselves. They begin to internalize the belief that they are inherently flawed, that they are undeserving of love, respect, or leadership roles in the church. This is why shame is such an effective tool of control—because it convinces people that they are powerless, even when they aren’t.
The church often frames this shame as “accountability” or “discipline,” when in reality, it’s about maintaining a power structure that benefits those at the top. (Look at any church sex scandal since the beginning of time over the past few years and note how many times the man in questions blames the women and children they’ve abused.) By keeping women ashamed and silent, leaders can avoid being challenged, questioned, or held accountable for the culture they’ve helped create. Shame keeps people compliant, fearful of stepping out of line, and it ensures that the system stays intact.
And, in part, I think this is one of the reasons why our family has found it increasingly more difficult to engage with the institutional church. But, there was definitely a shift in my mindset this past weekend. The institutional church isn’t the REAL CHURCH and I have neither the desire, nor time, to play devil’s advocate. Not now.
CHALLENGE: Have you fallen into the trap of “comparing sin”? Do you think differently about people who have engaged in a “greater sin” than yours? Ask for your eyes, and heart, to be opened to any damaging systems of beliefs.