The Guilt of Not Feeling Guilty Enough
Just weird quirks of the evangelical experience
Happy New Year! Is this the time of year people make resolutions, set a word for the year, promise to go to the gym at least for the month of January? (Okay, not gonna lie, I did do a little new year tarot ritual on the 1st so I am also poking a little fun at myself). I wish you all the best in keeping those gentle promises to yourself. Meanwhile, I wanted to share some thoughts I was mulling recently about guilt dynamics in evangelicalism. I am curious if this resonates with anyone!
One of evangelicalism’s seemingly defining features is its ability to inspire massive amounts of guilt in even the most morally upstanding people (and not enough guilt in those who *aren’t*…?). The belief is that I’ve been forgiven, but am I behaving in a way that makes me worthy of such forgiveness? God loves me unconditionally, except for when I believe the wrong way or act in such a way where God will be forced to reject me. God is so loving he would murder his own child to save the rest of us from being thrown into hell, because of rules that God (if he is truly omnipotent) must have created? Weird, but don’t think about it too hard.
Well, when I was a young evangelical, I definitely didn’t think about it too hard. (The “why” of this deserves an entire post about delayed critical thinking skills and stunted emotional development). All I knew was what I had to believe… and how I should feel about what I had to believe.
I was supposed to feel sufficiently guilty about every sin I had ever committed that separated from me from God. Unfortunately for me, as a people-pleasing, shy, sheltered kid, I didn’t have that many sins to be guilty about (luckily I solved that in high school when I started dating). But I knew I should feel deeply sorrowful about how much I was missing the mark of God’s perfection. Plus I needed to feel appropriately grateful that Jesus was willing to make the sacrifice of his very life to allow me to spend eternity with him and God.
Maybe one of the only questioning, critical thinking thoughts that snuck in as a youth was wondering: Why should I be so impressed with Jesus’s sacrifice?
According to the theology I believed, Jesus was God and he knew he was God, and he therefore knew he was only going to die temporarily and would soon rise from the dead again. The church authorities emphasized that even though he was fully God, he was also fully human, and therefore felt every bit of pain and suffering he was experiencing. He was not hiding from that just because he was divine.
I mean sure… but even with all that, people die every day. And we all die. And some people (specifically two others surrounding him, at the time of his death!) die by torture. So… why was I supposed to feel extra bad about Jesus’s death? Was it the psychological pain he was experiencing, of taking on every single sinful thing anyone had ever done? But also… if he’s God, why can’t he just handle that?
Of course I could never go so far as to actually articulate these doubts in a way that might challenge authority. So I kept them to myself, and just felt guilty about not feeling guilty enough about Jesus’s death.
You know how many churches, you have to pray quiet prayers of penitence before taking communion? Mentally go through your recent history and find anything that might be sinful and mention it to God while asking forgiveness, before being able to partake of the body and blood of Christ?
It was always a struggle to be sufficiently remorseful where I felt bad, or guilty, enough to deserve communion. (I learned to shut down emotions early on, so no surprises that I couldn’t just open them back up when the religious tradition called for it!). But at least I could access the secondary guilt of feeling guilty for not being guilty enough. That must cut it. Right?!?
Nowadays, though I don’t call myself a Christian, I see Jesus’s death as murder by the empire as retribution for a boundary-breaking soul who advocated for radical inclusivity and turning systems of power upside-down. No part of me sees his death as necessary for me to be forgiven so I can go to heaven.
And my wish for you, in this new year of 2025, is that you don’t need to feel guilty for things you are not guilty of, and that you can go forth and be free and fully alive — outside the constraints of religious doctrine that seeks to control and make one small. Be well, my friends!
"God loves me unconditionally, except for when I believe the wrong way or act in such a way where God will be forced to reject me." Yes, yes, yes. I also didn't really have much sin to feel guilty for, so I compensated by feeling guilty for things that were not sin: not knowing something, feeling sad, being unprepared, etc. It has only been through OCD diagnosis and treatment that I have been able to see that I don't need to feel guilty for those things. So many Christian therapists and mentors tried to help me fix my beliefs so I could feel God's love. OCD recovery focuses on action--act as if you are loved (while accepting that the worst may be true) and this has dramatically changed my beliefs more than any thought or Scripture replacement I was previously prescribed.
Recovery has brought so much relief and gratitude, but it's hard not to get bogged down in anger at the way the church fed and exacerbated my very debilitating mental illness.
Thanks for sharing, Christine, and being a safe person to process this with.
So beautifully written! Thank you for sharing. Guilt is such a powerful emotion and can be so easily manipulated by others and systems. I also love the depiction of Jesus’ death being more about being persecuted for going against the grain and trying to inspire people to truly love others regardless.