#1 Tool in a Villain's Toolbox
I stole seven marbles.
Around six years of age, I saw them at a garage sale, so colorful, smooth, and round. They looked fun, so I slipped them into my pocket. I didn’t think of the marbles again until a week later, when I was standing in my room singing along with my favorite song, It’s a Hard Knock Life from the musical Annie, and it struck me. I was a thief. I’d stolen those marbles.
I dug through my coat pocket, found the marbles, and tossed them in the trash. I was so overwhelmed with guilt and shame over what I’d done that I wanted to throw up, and I never listened to that Annie record again.
Shame tried to tell me I was a bad person—morally defective. That I didn’t just make a mistake, I was a mistake.
I was at a crucial age, learning who I was. I’d made a decision on my own, and it was a bad one. Did that mean I was a bad kid? Impressionable children can internalize their guilt, where it can harden into shame, especially if adults or their peer group reinforce their negative thoughts. Why can’t you do anything right? Why didn’t you use your head? What’s wrong with you? You’re a loser.
I confessed my crime, and I was fortunate to have parents who showed me love, forgiveness, and the error of my ways. I’d been convicted but not condemned. Condemnation says, I am worthless and hopeless. Conviction says, I acted wrong and need to repent and change.
In writing, shame is a frequent tool authors use in their villains' arsenals, my villains included, because it is a powerful, coercive tactic. Shame controls and demands alignment. If you don’t agree, you are morally defective. It pushes characters into a prison of their own making. A villain doesn’t need to restrain a hero if the hero’s shame has already shackled him.
Shame is used to force a black-and-white narrative and shut down the process of seeking help, learning, and growing. The propaganda wrought by shame is all-or-nothing thinking. It isn’t looking for understanding or consideration. If you don’t align, you’re not only wrong, you’re bad, irredeemable, even evil. When this villainous trait shifts someone from a bad action to a bad actor, it’s easier to justify cruelty and dehumanize them. They deserve what’s coming to them.
But then hope stepped in.
Jesus took the punishment we deserved and placed it on His shoulders. Our sins were nailed to the cross so that we could receive redemption. Jesus separates the sin from the sinner and our mistakes from our identity.
Shame loses its power when the light of truth shines on it:
Truth says you’re broken, but you’re still valuable.
Truth allows oxygen back in the room.
Truth sets you free.
Truth replaces shame with grace and mercy.
Truth restores dignity.
God doesn’t see a bad person. He sees a broken person that He loves. Don’t let shame define you. Break its hold with the truth. Our worth isn’t defined by our past. It’s defined by the cost of the price that was paid for us on the cross.
God sees your story not as a story of revenge but as a story of redemption.
“My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart
You, God, will not despise.”
~Psalm 51:17
