The Difference Between Repentance and Self-Hate
If self-hate could change a person, I would have reached perfection by now—at least, that’s what my therapist told me.
I laughed as she said the words, but I still struggled to believe what she was telling me. Was self-hate really futile? In my mind, if I beat myself up hard enough for my sins and the ways I had fallen short, it would keep me from making that same mistake again. If I berated myself well-enough, I wouldn’t even dare look at the temptation. Not only that, but I also believed that self-hate showed God the depth of my repentance. If I lashed out against myself and saw myself as no better than the worst vermin that crawls across the ground, perhaps he’d accept my apologies in seeing how earnest they truly were.
Do you see the legalism growing in those thoughts? I didn’t notice the legalism taking root, until I sat down to truly reflect on my practices of self-hate. If you’re like me, and self-hate is the language of your inner life, perhaps you have some hidden legalism within your own heart too. As I explain how God helped me untangle the knot of repentance and self-hate, maybe it will help you too.
Repentance Is Not Self-Hate
This legalism began with an incorrect understanding of repentance. In my mind, to repent of sin was to hate yourself. As I recognized the guilt of my sin, I had to punish myself with hateful words. You’re useless; stupid; the worst mother / wife / friend / daughter in the world—you never get anything right!
However, this didn’t lead to holiness because it wasn’t true repentance. To repent is to turn from sin to godliness; we recognize the wrongness and horrors of our actions and turn towards what is right and good. Professor and Theologian Kelly Kapic explains this well by showing how repentance is like resurrection, while self-hate is like remaining in death:
Right repentance and humility are never about self-hatred, but a recognition that we are not living as God created us; our sin damages and distorts us, it warps our understanding, and it hurts the way we relate to our God and his world. Repentance is always unto life, not death. It is a turning around, away from self-harm and toward our healing God. That is why it is linked to resurrection, which, according to Paul, points to the dawning of a new creation (2 Cor. 5:17). (Kapic, You’re Only Human, 26)
Repentance is like resurrection—turning from the death we once lived in before Christ, to the life that Christ gave us in the gospel. Remaining in self-hate is like remaining in death.
In Ephesians 4:17–32, Paul demonstrates this through a three-part turning from sin to righteousness. He calls the church to 1) turn from their sins, 2) change their heart attitude, and 3) do what is right. Liars must stop being deceitful because they are a part of God’s people, and instead use their words to build up others. Those who struggle with wrath must stop letting their anger turn to sin because they are giving opportunities to the devil to tear others down; instead, they must learn how to use their anger in a godly way. The thief must stop stealing and learn to think of others rather than just himself and use his hands to help those in need.
Repentance is productive, seeking to repair what sin has harmed and glorify God again. Self-hate, on the other hand, keeps us stuck in destruction; we move from hurting others to simply hurting ourselves. “For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death” (2 Cor. 7:10).
The Uselessness of Self-Hate
We often believe that self-hate is moving us forward and helping us grow in holiness and humility. Yet self-hate is a waste of our energy. Self-hate and shame will only ever disappoint, as Brianna Lambert writes. “Because of Christ’s work, we can bear fruit because we aren’t doing it by our own strength anymore. We can ‘go and sin no more’ because our support is the perfect work of Christ, not the frail string of our guilt and willpower.” Self-hate draws our eyes inward on ourselves, our failings, and our weaknesses. Yet when we sin, we need our eyes drawn off ourselves and unto Christ. We need to remember his work, not ours. By his sinless life, we receive righteousness. By his death on the cross, we escape the deadly punishment our sins deserve. By his grace, we receive power to obey his law.
Self-hate, while beating us up for how awful we believe we are, also whispers to us that if we tried just a smidge harder, we could find the strength to obey on our own. We believe that the more emotional bruises we leave on our hearts, the less likely we are to fall into temptation again. We believe that if we mustered up more strength, wisdom, and self-control, we could overcome this sin once and for all. Self-hate tries to promise us that a more perfect life is within our reach.
Yet as Christians, we know that even the most wise and self-controlled saints still sin. Throughout the Old and New Testament, we see followers of God repeatedly fall into sin. Aaron made a golden calf. Peter denied Christ and refused to eat with Gentiles when the Jews were around. Christ’s disciples often fought about who was the greatest among themselves.
We all need Christ if we want to grow in holiness!
Paul describes the battle every Christian has with sin in Romans 7. He wrote that we do what we do not want to do again and again. We hate and despise those sins, yet we do them anyway because sin still lies within us. It’s a constant battle within our hearts. Yet together with Paul we can cry, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Rom. 7:24–25).
The Example of Esau
Esau and Jacob were the twin sons of Isaac (the son of Abraham) and Rebekah. Esau was the first son, yet he lost his birth rights as firstborn to Jacob when he sold them to Jacob for food. Yet Esau was given a second chance of sorts to receive a blessing from his father by catching wild game and preparing a meal for him. By the deceit of Rebekah and the younger brother, Jacob tricked his father by pretending to be Esau delivering his meal. Jacob received Isaac’s blessing instead of his older brother. Anger filled Esau, and he cried hot tears of regret and bitterness. He had lost his father’s (and ultimately God’s) blessing upon him.
Hebrews tells us to not have the kind of repentance Esau had: “See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no ‘root of bitterness’ springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled; that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal. For you know that afterward, when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears” (Heb. 12:15–17).
Spurgeon, commenting on this classic story, writes,
You think that Esau was a sincere penitent. Just let me tell you another thing. This blessed penitent, when he failed to get the blessing, what did he say? “The days of mourning for my father are at hand: then will I slay my brother Jacob.” That is not the repentance that comes from God the Holy Spirit. But there are some men like that. They say they are very sorry they should have been such sinners as that, very sorry that they should have been brought into such a sad condition as that; and then they go and do the same that they did before. Their penitence does not bring them out of their sin, but it leaves them in it, and, perhaps, plunges them still deeper into guilt.
Sorrow in and of itself over our sins and the consequences of them is not enough for repentance. Repentance led by the Holy Spirit moves toward restoration and holiness, not further into destruction and sin.
Looking to Christ
I understand this pattern. The moment I feel the guilt of my sins weighing down on me, self-hatred flows like a broken dam through my mind. Self-hate often feels like my natural disposition. I must pause and remind myself to look to Christ. Rather than toiling in the darkness of self-hate, I need to repent, turn toward Christ’s light, and remember who he declares me to be: Forgiven, beloved, his.
When the familiar thought comes or I find myself curled up in bed at night ruminating in self-hatred, I’m learning to pause and turn to God in prayer. I confess my sins and thank God for his forgiveness. I praise Jesus for his work and suffering in my place. I pray for the Holy Spirit to help me obey his law rather than the law of my flesh.
As I pray, I think of the ways I can move towards repairing what I’ve damaged. If I said something mean in an argument, I choose to apologize. If I lost my patience with my children, I confess it to them and make a plan for the future when I feel the impatience rising.
While self-hatred appears productive, it never is. It leaves our relationships fractured, our eyes on ourselves, and draws us no closer to holiness. We need to fall before God in repentance and cry out for his help. As we do, the Spirit will convict us to move towards those we hurt to repair our relationships. This is true repentance, the “repentance that leads to life” (Acts 11:18).
Lara d’Entremont is a wife and mom to three from Nova Scotia, Canada. Lara is a writer and learner at heart—always trying to find time to scribble down some words or read a book. Her desire in writing is to help women develop solid theology they can put into practice—in the mundane, the rugged terrain, and joyful moments. You can find more of her writing at laradentremont.com.