When Church Sermons are Unhelpful and Even Damaging

Modesty and good intentions only get you so far

I attended church online a few weeks ago. The sermon was about being modest and acting in servitude to others, as Christ did. There was a lot of talk of slavery — we should act like slaves or something like that. But my overwhelming feeling was that it’s a really unhelpful message.

I grew up on that kind of preaching as a child. We were told to be modest, with attitudes of servitude. Being confident was wrong, arrogant. And I can see how that might be true if you are over-confident and a pain in the arse.

But I was a bullied child with zero confidence, and this relentless message of placing yourself lower than everyone else, accepting life’s shit, with an attitude of modesty and servitude, was really damaging.

Dad was a bully, the school was full of bullies. So when bullies told me I was worthless, stupid, and didn’t deserve to be liked, I modestly accepted my place as the playground punchbag and soaked it all up as fact. My own dad thought I was no good, despite my greatest efforts to please him.

In church a few weeks ago, the preacher said, he didn’t want to suggest that exploitation and abuse was OK. Not that kind of slavery. But as exploitation and abuse defined periods of my life, it’s hard to see how this kind of preaching was anything but damaging to the young girl I was then.

Yes, I was modest. Too modest. Yes, I was trying to please. No, it didn’t work.

How does this pan out when you’re looking for a job at the age of 16? As a young child, there had always been this narrative that I was worthless. My inevitable lack of self-esteem perpetuated that. Employers weren’t impressed by the string of part-time jobs that I’d had since I was 12. I thought it showed a good work ethic, but they didn’t care.

People treated me with disdain, even when I was trying to promote my strengths. The 1990s global recession didn’t help.

The only work I was able to get was a position that felt massively exploitative. Looking back, it seems a lot like modern slavery. I worked full-time on a government scheme for two years, for a measly £30 weekly allowance, until I was nearly 20. The money barely compensated me for the four-hour daily commute — let alone the 40 hours worked. I was deeply unhappy and unable to escape. The job didn’t pay enough to leave home.

Slavery is not a solution to anything. It leaves you trapped. Today that kind of exploitation is illegal, but back in the ’80s and ’90s, it was government policy, to get young people into work.

So my point is, modesty has its place, but sometimes confidence is a good thing. We all need balance. And some of us need building up to get that sense of self-worth and to feel valued. The narrative that we should be slave-like can be unhelpful.

Jesus wasn’t a doormat. Jesus had bags of confidence. Yes, he had periods of servitude and he ultimately gave in to the will of the people, and death on the cross. But he also threw the traders out of the temple, stood up for what he believed in, and was angry and forthright in many aspects of his life.

I think sometimes, the church’s focus on modesty and servitude is too much. Perhaps that’s because there are a lot of arrogant people in the world, but actually, you’re in no position to help anyone if you’re a quivering wreck. People need some confidence to function. Modesty and servitude need to be in balance with confidence and wellbeing.

Someone’s probably going to tell me I’ve got it all wrong and misunderstood something. But that’s just how it came across that Sunday, and that’s how it often seemed as a child. I was very focused on being modest, good, the underdog, non-judgemental, turning the other cheek.

And I was miserable.

Let’s change the narrative. Let’s teach confidence, self-esteem, and what we can do to help others in faith, not because we’re slaves, but because we’re confident individuals, with the strength and self-belief to make things better.

I’m not against the church or its preachings. I’ve been attending church online more since lockdown than I did before. I find it very supportive and I do have faith, wobbly as it seems at times. But I struggle with some aspects of the teachings.

As a youngster, I needed lessons on sticking up for myself, not on modesty and servitude. Although I do see how both can be good principles for life, in balance with confidence and self-belief, in their rightful place.