It is not my fault! Playing the Blame Game

When certain themes reoccur in multiple therapy sessions, sometimes it helps me to write about them and shake the cobwebs off my thinking. Today's theme is : Blame.

Assigning Blame. Finding fault. Pointing fingers. Whatever term we use, it is about accusation. Although, on the surface, assigning blame seems to be about holding someone responsible, in reality, it is often used to justify one's own feelings or behavior. It is a little ironic that a person may really think they are doing the right thing by holding someone accountable, but when we use 'blame' to do it, we are going about it the wrong way.

Dictionaries and common usage often equate 'blame' and 'responsibility'. The two terms are often used interchangeably. However, if you take a look at synonyms, we can begin to see the negativity associated with 'blame': criticize, censure, condemn, denounce, dispraise, fault, knock, pan, reprehend. By contrast, look at the definition of 'responsible': able to answer for one's conduct and obligations : trustworthy : able to choose for oneself between right and wrong. I won't argue that it is possible to read the other dictionary entries and conclude that even the dictionary includes the idea that the two concepts are interchangeable. I will contend that most people use the two in the negative sense.

Is it wrong to hold someone accountable or to uncover responsibility? No. However, there is a categorical difference between the two ideas: Blame and Responsibility. Blame accuses and invites defensiveness. Blame is connected to shame and guilt. Blame is usually also connected to anger and bitterness. Responsibility, on the other hand, is about growth. Being responsible allows a person to be proud of him or herself. Being responsible means owning one's own actions and feelings, good or bad, and allows a person to have integrity.

So, even in those rare occasions when it is socially acceptable to blame, I expect it is not very helpful. Blame is usually more about making the blamer feel justified in being angry, hurt or bitter than it is about helping the blamed accept responsibility. Can you not hear it? Listen to this conversation (paraphrased and slightly embellished):

Me: What it is about your parent's separation that hurts you the most?
Client: Well, it is my fault that they split up. I just want them to stop fighting and be a family again.
Me: Whoa... what makes you think that it was your fault?
Client: Well, my mom told me that she blames me for their decision to separate... and she's right. The last big fight they had was because of my stupid decision to disobey the rules of my being grounded.

Here, we see the client accepting the blame that the mother asserts. Now, while it is true that the client broke the family rules about being grounded, the conflict between the parents predates the youth's behavior. The youth's behavior influenced the parents' feelings and actions, but did not cause the separation. The parents had plenty of actions they could have taken, but for various reasons, they chose to separate. At a later date, the mom is hurt and angry and in order to feel better about being angry, she blames her decision on the youth. In this case, the blame did not invite the youth to be defensive. Instead, in accepting the blame, the youth also accepted undue guilt and shame. Should the youth feel bad about the behavior that the youth is responsible for? Sure. Should the youth feel the burden of the parents' decision? No.

Of course, there are other details I am not sharing about this situation. I have cleaned up and sterilized the messiness of the relationships involved in order to highlight my point. Blame, even when you can make a case for it, is never helpful. It is hurtful. Blame is about accusation and justification. Blame invites defensiveness, shame and guilt. Blame seeks to allow the blamer to put off the responsibility for his/her own emotions on another person. "You make me so angry!" and "If you hadn't ******, then I wouldn't blah, blah, blah."Can you hear the accuser, the blamer, divesting himself of emotional responsibility? Even if the blamer can make a good case for blaming, the end result is that the blamed feels defensive, accused, ashamed, and either defiant or broken. None of those feelings is conducive to healing, restoration or emotional health.

So, what is the alternative? Is it possible to assign responsibility without resorting to the accusing nature of blaming? How does one go about inviting another to accept responsibility without heaping shame and guilt upon them? What does it look like to act, in love and respect toward the responsible party, and firmly and with assertiveness allow them to own their fault? On the other side of the coin, how does a person avoid accepting unfair blame while still being responsible for one's own feelings and actions? Can it even be done?

I do not have definitive answers for the questions in the last paragraph, but I do know that I am done playing the blame game. It is tiring sometimes, because others constantly invite me to see others in an accusing way, to see others through their eyes of hurt and blame. I have a secret, though. I have another who invites me to see others through His eyes. He has a point of view that is unique in all creation. Instead of a lens of blame, He sees through a lens of grace, of undeserved mercy. Every day, I have the choice to accept the invitation of the hurt, broken souls that I serve to see others as blameworthy. Ironically, we are all blameworthy. Instead, I strive to choose what is helpful and healing, which is to see everyone through the eyes of a merciful, gracious God. The Great Physician has some wonderful insight into how to begin the healing process for the souls of men.

And now, may you have the courage to offer grace instead of blame. It is not an easy task, but it is a way of reflecting the image of a gracious God instead of the Great Accuser.

-jeff

Yeah, but are you sorry?

I used to get together once a week with a group of men from my church for a time of reflection and prayer. Our purpose was to have an open forum to be able to share our struggles, confess our sins, encourage each other and just shoot the breeze. I apprecitated the open, honest time that I was able to share with these brothers in Christ. At the time, I was a minister and it was nigh unto impossible to be able to have a forum to take off the "minister" mask and unload. Too often, congregations put their preachers and ministers under a standard to which they don't hold anyone else, including themselves. A minister may have struggles with his faith, but he'd better not show it to the congregation. We expect our preachers and ministers to be better than we are. We might struggle with various sins or temptations, but they aren't allowed to. In fact, on those occasions when a minister has been caught in a sin or succumbed to a temptation, anything from financial mismanagement to sexual sin, the church's reaction is quite un-Christlike. I'm not opposed to removing a minister from a position of authority when his judgement is called into question. However, most of the time, the church's reaction to a minister's (public) sin is not one of gracious concern and desire for forgiveness. There is no forgiveness and continuing relationship with those men who have betrayed our trust and faith. There is only sending them away, in shame, to be somebody else's problem. Anyhow, I'm just trying to help you understand the tremendous pressure that most ministers labor under.

So, anyhow, my Friday morning prayer time with this group was precious to me. One day, I was moved to share a thought with them. I want to share it now with you, because it was a watershed moment for me and I suspect that many people would benefit from hearing, understanding, and applying this train of thought to themselves.

First, more self-disclosure... You probably wouldn't think of it to look at me now, but I got around a bit when I was in high school. Come to think of it, when I was in high school, most people probably didn't think of me as being as worldly as I was. I was sneaky. I didn't get caught being naughty, so everyone assumed that I was pretty good. When the time came for me to choose where I was going to go for college, I decided to move away from Lubbock and start again where no one knew me in Abilene. My reason was mostly, that I was pretty ashamed of the behavior and reputation that I was getting in Lubbock (at least, my perception) and I thought that I could just move on and start over at a new place. So that is just what I did. I moved, got involved with school, a new church, decided on a Bible major at ACU and then got married, graduated and started a career. So, here I was, years later, as a minister. I remember just days before, working with my teens in the youth group and trying to help them see the dangers of loose living. I never told them just how bad I'd been, but I told them enough to let them knew that I knew that if they were typical teens, they probably thought that they were being sneaky and no body knew that they: listened to inappropriate, ungodly music; drank alcohol; partied inappropriately; smoked; engaged in sexual behavior; experimented with just how far they could "sin" without it being "too far". I was able to relate to them and hopefully gave them something to think about... they weren't really getting away with anything. God knows it all. That is one of his little tricks, you know.... the whole omniscient, omnipresent thing he does.

So anyhow, I went to bed that night, feeling pretty good that I'd been able to come through those "sinful" experiences and still be of use to God. I mean, hadn't he brought me to this place and given me a ministry and people to minister to? I turned out alright (again, in my perspective), despite all my sinful dabblings. Suddenly, I felt that I had been moved by the Spirit to examine myself. I realized that I had held on to those memories of the sin I'd indulged in. I thought about them from time to time, fondly. I didn't long for them, don't get me wrong... it was just that I'd never really repented of them. It was as if I thought somewhere, deep down, that it was ME that overcame them. *I* decided to give them up and start a new life in Abilene. It was my will and effort that let me turn down offers and decide to make a change in my life.... but I never once felt sorry for my sin. I never once stopped to think about how my sin affected me. I never once stopped to consider how my sin continued to affect my relationship with Christ. It occurred to me that in addition to shame, I should have felt remorse. But I didn't, not really. I wasn't sorry for the consequences for the other's I'd sinned with. I never acknowledged God's role in helping me break free. So, in a way, I hadn't made such a clean break after all. I'd not been broken by my sin, because I still carried it with me. I had yet to give it to Christ. When I re-lived those sins in my mind, I committed them again and again. The Spirit's conviction to me that night was made manifest in deep sorrow and remorse. Finally, years after I thought I'd given those things up, I finally laid them at the cross and actually *asked* to be forgiven. I finally repented of them and recognized the hurt I'd inflicted on the person of God. It was as if I'd been proud of my ability to overcome and denied the work of the cross all those years.

So, one Friday morning, I shared that realization with my dear friends and they wept with me. I don't deny the power of Christ's blood to forgive those sins, even if I'd never come to that realization. However, I do believe that those sins hindered my ability to truly reflect Christ in my person. That day, it became less about me and more about Him. The next time I had an opportunity to disclose my experience, I would be able to speak about the power of Christ in my life, and not the power of Jeff.

I hope I was able to get my point across by sharing this with you. You may have stopped committing a particular sin, but unless you've really recognized the power it had over you and experienced godly sorrow, I'm willing to say that you haven't really been transformed. It still has power over you in the form of misplaced pride in your own ability to overcome.

Here's hoping for grace to swoop in and free you. Cheers.
-jeff