Whatever happened to shame?

            When I was a boy, the rebuke was much in the air: “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Lawyer Welch’s Biblical chastisement of Senator McCarthy – “Have you no sense of decency?” – was popularly recalled as “Have you no shame?” Culpable politicians resigned in shame. In Sunday school we were taught why Adam and Eve, having eaten of the tree of knowledge, suddenly felt shame at their nakedness.

            As criminality grew more common in public life, shame grew more bearable. Was Nixon ashamed? Enraged and rueful, sure, but those are different. Bill Clinton exhibited – to my astonishment at the time – not a lick of shame. Trump is the epitome of shamelessness, sneering at any who blush. His conscienceless ethos has been gleefully adopted by his feckless followers. Lying, cheating, stealing, slandering, raping, abusing are fine if you get away with them – and merit badges if you don’t.

            Language like fashion fits its moment. We discuss shame less because we feel it less. We take less responsibility. When bad things happen, we blame others. Like the larcenous tot we insist, “The cookie jar broke itself.”

            The Republican Party, jut-jawed in my dad’s day, has devolved into a pack of whiners. Trump’s never done anything wrong – his evil detractors are to blame. Shaking down needy foreign leaders is AOK. Elections aren’t lost, they’re stolen. Our justice system is out to get him. He never committed rape, It was consensual, besides she’s not his type. And on and on, each claim more jaw-droppingly shameless than the last. (We do use the adjective “shameless.”) And his idolators nod, like bobble-headed dashboard dolls. Would they behave so vilely? Maybe not. But Trump’s their guy so anything goes.

            Shamelessness is pride. The Devil does not blush. Any means justify Evil’s ends.

            Shamelessness is arrogance. Whatever I do is right. “L’etat c’est moi.”

            Shamelessness is narcissism. Other people don’t exist, just wonderful me.

            Shame argues the opposite. I am small, weak, fallible, so much less than I might be. I’ve “erred and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep… followed too much the devices and desires of my own heart… offended against thy holy laws… left undone those things which I ought to have done (and)… done those things which I ought not to have done… and there is no health in me.”

            Shame is the penalty assessed by humility.

            I’m all for shame. I’m rife with it myself and that’s a good thing, keeps me on my toes. Trump may do things “perfectly” as he boasts, I never do. I could write better, be better. I make mistakes all the time. I’m a work in progress and the work is going slowly but at least it’s going.

            The loss of shame among fellow Americans fills me with shame. I don’t understand how any decent human being could endorse Trump for street-sweeper, much less President. I’m ashamed of the nation that elected him once and triply ashamed we might again. Any Republican official who endorses Trump should be booted, and that means most of them. Would you hire this guy to babysit? And you give him your nation to care for?

            The decline of shame parallels the decline of religion. Religion and shame see us as subservient to a higher power. Beholden to an ideal, we are combatants for grace. I feel this deeply – and cherish the feeling. “If I am not for others, what am I?” asked Rabbi Hillel.

            How do we recover our littleness? By being broken to bits on the shoals of pride. 2024 may be the year.