A Word About Shame
The other day, I came home and one of our little dogs — Finley — had found a piece of cardboard somewhere, and tore it into tiny pieces all over the living room floor. What a mess! He looked somewhat pleased with himself, until I started scolding him. I didn’t use my “I’m-a-person-who-loves-dogs” voice. I used my extra loud “I’m-really-aggravated-with-you-dog!” voice, as I pointed at him and said, “Bad dog! You are a bad dog!”
Finley slinked behind the couch, hiding as if he was hoping to be invisible. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said he looked ashamed of himself, and guilty as sin. Somehow, that look of shame stirred a certain understanding or compassion in me when I noticed it, and I sat down on that couch he was hiding behind and invited him to sit on my lap.
When dogs look guilty, they tuck their tails, lower their heads, sometimes look away. But research suggests that these are actually submissive expressions —not moral shame. Finley wasn’t admitting he had been caught doing something wrong when he hid behind the couch. He reacted to my tone, my scowling face. Dogs have social intelligence and emotional depth, but shame—as a moral category—that’s probably not how they’re wired. What dogs seem to feel is fear, confusion, or maybe condemnation? They know they’ve done something that upsets you.
Human beings, however, are capable of feeling both shame and condemnation. Shame is the painful feeling that indicates something is wrong with me. It whispers: “You’re not just someone who failed—you are a failure.” Shame touches identity, not just behavior. Psalm 44:15 – “All day long my disgrace is before me, and shame has covered my face.” Condemnation then adds insult to injury by declaring that I did, indeed make a sinful mess of life. The verdict is guilty as charged, with an associated sentence. It is the declaration: “You’re guilty—and now you will pay for it.”
“Shame says, ‘Hide, like Adam and Eve in the Garden. Don’t let God see you.’
Condemnation says, ‘He already has seen you and you’re guilty as charged. Your sentence awaits you.
But then, grace. Grace says, ‘I see it all. Your guilty sentence has been delivered to Jesus —and all has been made right.’”
The proper response to failure is not shame. It is repentance.
But even repentance isn’t about earning our way back. It’s about trusting that Jesus has already paved the way into God’s acceptance.
Psalm 85:10 says, “Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.” That’s not poetry for poetry’s sake. That’s the gospel. That’s what happened at the cross—where Jesus bore the shame of what we did, and the condemnation we richly deserve, providing the way into a new Hiding Place — the very grace of God.
Finley finally came out from behind that couch the other day. He acted totally thrilled to jump into my lap, and pretend I wasn’t mad at him anymore. Just a thought: If you’ve noticed a particular failure in your life that you’re really ashamed of? The proper response to failure is not shame or even guilt. It is repentance, and the courage and faith to know that there is a Hiding Place named Jesus waiting to embrace you.