"Do Not Be Ashamed" - A Commentary

some thoughts on an excellent Wendell Berry Poem

You will be walking some night
in the comfortable dark of your yard
and suddenly a great light will shine
round about you, and behind you
will be a wall you never saw before.
It will be clear to you suddenly
that you were about to escape,
and that you are guilty: you misread
the complex instructions, you are not
a member, you lost your card
or never had one. And you will know
that they have been there all along,
their eyes on your letters and books,
their hands in your pockets,
their ears wired to your bed.
Though you have done nothing shameful,
they will want you to be ashamed.
They will want you to kneel and weep
and say you should have been like them.
And once you say you are ashamed,
reading the page they hold out to you,
then such light as you have made
in your history will leave you.
They will no longer need to pursue you.
You will pursue them, begging forgiveness.
They will not forgive you.
There is no power against them.
It is only candor that is aloof from them,
only an inward clarity, unashamed,
that they cannot reach. Be ready.
When their light has picked you out
and their questions are asked, say to them:
"I am not ashamed." A sure horizon
will come around you. The heron will begin
his evening flight from the hilltop.

—“Do Not Be Ashamed” Wendell Berry (1968)

I’ve been including a poetry reading in my usual stack of books. During this season, I’m enjoying selections from Wendell Berry’s Collected Poems (1957-1982). These include some classics like “The Peace of Wild Things” and a few others I’ve grown to like, such as “A Music” which is about a mandolin player.

Recently, though, I had the privilege of experiencing “Do Not Be Ashamed,” and I’ve had to sit with it for a few days before moving on to the next poem.

One thing that stands out to me is its form. There aren’t any paragraph breaks—no place to pause. To me this fits perfectly with the theme of the poem. I’ve experienced something like what this poem describes on a couple of different occasions, which may have just been foreshocks and aftershocks of the main seismic event. But those experiences didn’t come in paragraphs; it was more like a flood of anxious thoughts, emotions, and loss.

In today’s article, I’ll be looking at a few themes from this excellent work of art.

As usual, these posts will be made public a week after their original posting.

Aha!

You will be walking some night
in the comfortable dark of your yard
and suddenly a great light will shine
round about you, and behind you
will be a wall you never saw before.

This is how it goes, right? One day you’re reading the Bible, minding your own business, when suddenly a passage strikes you in a different way. Perhaps you previously went through or witnessed an experience that paved the way to this deeper understanding.

But now that you’ve seen it, there’s no going back.

You start to share what you have learned, and immediately you realize that original thoughts aren’t welcome in your tribe.

The comfortable dark of your backyard has been interrupted by a great searchlight which always watching for detractors, and you find that you have wandered (and wondered) too close to the edge.

We like the comfortable dark because it is comfortable.

People in bad relationships or who had a bad home life often don’t know what it is that they’re missing out on until a guy or girl comes around that treats them right; then, they hardly think they are worthy for such affection or kindness and end up rejecting the one who treats them well only to go back to their abuser.

But once the illusion is broken, a decision must be made. Do you leap over the wall, or, stunned by rejection/ awe/ wonder, do you shrink back into the comfortable darkness?

Uh-oh!

It will be clear to you suddenly
that you were about to escape,
and that you are guilty: you misread
the complex instructions, you are not
a member, you lost your card
or never had one.

For far too long we have been told that there is only one way to truly read the Bible, one way to understand God, and one way to live and worship and eat and sleep and love.

And of course the only way is “our way.”

But what happens when a more compelling way presents itself? What happens when the opportunity arises to jump over the wall, never to look back?

Well, you could leap, or if the conditioning works, this momentary awareness of a greater world or grace or whatever will lead to unspeakable shame when your private ideas are found out, and sometimes this shame comes before they are even found out.

Kind of like catching your parents in the act, those who see a way out will often see it, not as a welcomed reproach to the current system (like a good lesson in locking your door), but as evidence that they are somehow flawed, have gone astray, or, worse, never were a true believer to begin with (why are you just walking into rooms?).

The blame is shifted.

“What if I’m the crazy one?”

Oh!

And you will know
that they have been there all along,
their eyes on your letters and books,
their hands in your pockets,
their ears wired to your bed.

You ignored the cameras. You disregarded the already-opened mail. You didn’t pay attention to that question, “What are you reading?” It was for your protection. It was to keep you safe. It might have even been general curiosity.

But you never knew how far the surveillance went.

Spies. Spies everywhere.

Call it the grapevine or neighborhood watch or networking, but it seems like everyone, yes everyone, knows.

They hear your thoughts. They know about your doubts. They saw who you followed or friended or liked on social media.

They looked at your location at 10:30 on Sunday.

Yes, they know you visited that church.

They’re onto you.

Or at least that’s how it seems.

And it’s not that you are overly paranoid or anything like that. You’ve simply been trained to live in such a way, and when you begin to even question it, you remember that “momma has eyes in the back of her head.”

Do you run away?

Do you stay?

If you stay, how?

And by the way, if you feel like this, it’s because you’ve been mistreated. Again, it is not your fault.

Sorry

Though you have done nothing shameful,
they will want you to be ashamed.
They will want you to kneel and weep
and say you should have been like them.
And once you say you are ashamed,
reading the page they hold out to you,
then such light as you have made
in your history will leave you.
They will no longer need to pursue you.
You will pursue them, begging forgiveness.
They will not forgive you.

There is nothing wrong with asking questions. There’s nothing wrong with having doubts. The psalms are filled with both. The disciples were the first to question Jesus’s resurrection, and Jesus still chose them to help build the church.

But in a world where everything must be perfect, every fact memorized, and every argument airtight, there is no room for grey.

And so we cite the necessary apologies, and we might even boldly lash out against other doubters just to prove our loyalty. We recant, we accuse, and like Peter, we might start cursing and swearing to show our loyalty to the mob.

But this just leaves us feeling more broken and lost than ever.

Though they pat us on the back, tell us ‘atta boy, and commend us from the pulpit for our bold stand for the faith, the truth is already out: we’ve seen the wall.

Because once you see, you can’t unsee.

And neither can they.

Fly

There is no power against them.
It is only candor that is aloof from them,
only an inward clarity, unashamed,
that they cannot reach. Be ready.
When their light has picked you out
and their questions are asked, say to them:
"I am not ashamed." A sure horizon
will come around you. The heron will begin
his evening flight from the hilltop.

But what happens when you see the wall before you’re found out by that great light? What happens when you realize that “protection” is really spiritual abuse in disguise? What happens when you learn to think for yourself, so you stop checking your brain at the door?

Well, then the game is over.

This kind of system can’t handle honesty and transparency. If you stop pretending, saying amen, and nodding your head at the points that go against what seems so obvious to you now, there is no longer any place for you lest you lead others astray.

The pain will not be easy.

The road will be rough.

The loss will be great.

But the road paved with sincerity, honesty, a love for truth, and a willingness to go unashamedly along its narrow way will bring a kind of peace and clarity that the comfortable darkness of the backyard could never offer.

So, fly.