There was a disciplinary process my faith tradition had called “silencing”. I recently called a close family friend and asked him what the process for “silencing” entailed. I knew he would know because he was a deacon in my former religious organization. He explained that silencing members happened when a woman or young girl got pregnant outside of marriage, or when there was infidelity in a marriage. He then explained you would go into a meeting that would include the pastor, maybe the deacons, and sometimes the mother’s board.
After the private meeting there was a public meeting held in front of the entire congregation. The pastor would have you stand while he explained to the congregation what sin you’d committed. The Pastor would explain that for a certain amount of time, you were no longer allowed to participate in any church activities or carry out any roles.
I also spoke with someone who’d experienced being silenced. They told me how humiliating the process was, how it felt for people to smile and embrace them while actively judging them. Silencing was supposed to give you an opportunity to “learn your lesson”, “sit out and listen” as sermon’s continued to be preached, and songs continued to be sung. Your heart and mind were to be renewed in the process, bringing you to a sincere point of repentance for your wrong-doing.
If you’ve been reading my last few blogs, you know that I’ve been focusing on the nuances of the Netflix series Nosedive. This is kind of an extension of the last, but more focused on shame and humiliation as a process for Godly correction. In the episode, there are several instances where we see Lacie getting low ratings by other community members for various mishaps deemed socially unacceptable. The interesting aspect is that the high-currency people hand out shame and judgement with a smile on their faces.
When the airline representative shames Lacie for expressing frustration, she does so in front of a crowd with a huge fake grin. Immediately after, the security officer further humiliates her by dropping her one whole point for the next twenty four hours, and escorting her out of the building, with a smile on his face. This is a type of temporary punishment for breaking the rules. This resonated with me as I watched it.
I can remember running errands with my parents, and before we would get out of the car, I would get “the speech”. One part of that speech was “If you embarrass me in public, I will embarrass you in public”. This is the line I think about when I recall what I witnessed and what I was told about the process of silencing. From the church’s perspective, you have not only brought embarrassment to your family, but you have embarrassed the church and God. For this reason, the consequences of your sins are a communal decision, and every member has the privilege of watching your sentencing. After which, you walk around with an invisible scarlet letter on your chest.
Well, I see the process of silencing from a totally different perspective. I see the act of public shaming and humiliation, or silencing, as a form of control. I’m not saying betrayal of a spouse, or any other indiscretion that causes harm, shouldn’t have consequences. What I am attempting to do here is draw a clear distinction between healthy and unhealthy processes for delivering consequences.
The shame of silencing goes beyond consequences. It’s more about control. The scary part is how people will weaponize control tactics all while smiling in your face and declaring their love for you. Having that disconnect created between you, the church, and your church family is painful. Feeling left out, and on the outside of your religious community is a lonely place of isolation. As humans we desire connection to others, to be affirmed and feel like we belong in our community. According to the church, you are less likely to commit acts that cause you to fall out of the will of God after having experienced or witnessed this type of punishment. So they hash it out in the name of love with a smile on their faces. I am a firm believer in The Greatest Commandment Theology, which teaches us to love our neighbors as ourselves...not shame our neighbor, not publicly shame our neighbor, but love our neighbors.