Blurb:
Rewrite the story of shame in your life. Think your sins and failures disqualify you? Through K-pop Demon Hunters, discover how God redeems shame, retells your story, and turns your mess into message.
Healing from Shame
Friends, shame can play the dominant role in many of our lives. Psychologists agree that aside from fear, shame may well be the strongest driver in our decision making, leading some into fear and hiding, while others to drivenness, compensating for the thing we are most ashamed of. At the start of this episode then, let me invite you to ponder: what are you most ashamed of? What is the one thing that you have done—or believe that you are—that plagues you today, and keeps you up at night? Friends, any story about confronting shame is worthy of our attention. But K-pop Demon Hunters takes confronting these inner demons to a whole new level. My hope is that today, we might take our own shame on a journey, and dare to discover a freedom in Christ that we never thought possible.
Synopsis of the story
Since ancient times, demons roamed the world and preyed upon human victims, feeding their souls to the demon king Gwi-Ma. One day, three musicians were chosen to be the first demon hunters, using their magical songs to seal the demons away behind a mystical barrier called the Honmoon. Each new generation of hunters also used their songs to maintain the Honmoon, keeping the demons at bay while striving to one day turn the Honmoon golden, banishing demons from earth forever and ever Amen.
Fast forward to the present moment, and we are introduced to a K-pop group called Huntrix—made up of Rumi, Mira, and Zoey, who are the latest of the demon hunters. The trio are guided by Celine, a retired hunter. Unbeknownst to anyone except Celine, Rumi was actually part-demon herself, a fact that she was ashamed of and tries to hide by covering up the distinctive demon patterns all over her body. However, in preparing to release their new single “Golden,” Rumi finds she begins losing her voice, and doesn’t know why.
Meanwhile, to counter the threat of this new single, demon king Gwi-Ma agrees to form a K-pop boy band to counter the song of the Huntrix girls, to prevent the golden Honmoon from forming. The boy band is called the Saja Boys, and they are hoping that their rising fame will weaken the Honmoon. The band is led by Jinu, a man who once sold out his family for fame and comfort, is now consumed by shame … a shame that made him a puppet of Gwi-Ma. During their first fight with Huntrix, Jinu actually discovers Rumi’s own demon patterns but keeps the truth to himself. He later reveals to her his own tragic past and teaches Rumi that it is shame that the demons are really just people who have been consumed by shame – and in doing do lose their souls. Slowly, their shared experience of shame creates a bond between the two enemies, and a trust and love is built. As Huntrix prepare to expose the Saja Boys at the Idol Awards, Rumi proposes a deal: if Jinu helps them win the awards, he could stay human. Their plan unravels when demons impersonate Mira and Zoey, tricking Rumi and revealing her demon marks publicly. Feeling betrayed, her friends turn on her, and Gwi-Ma begins his final assault, enthralling fans and preparing to shatter the Golden Honmoon.
Rumi, desperate, confides in Celine that she is tired of hiding and wants to live in a new type of Honmoon, one which was strong enough to embrace both her human and inner demon. She returns to the stadium and interrupts the Saja Boys’ performance with a song about vulnerability, breaking Gwi-Ma’s control. This inspires the other two girls to also not be ashamed of their vulnerabilities and reunite as a trio again. Songs combined, Huntrix battle the demon horde, leading up to the moving climax where Jinu sacrifices himself to save Rumi, giving his soul to her and granting her the combined power to defeat Gwi-Ma forever.
Through this act of death and resurrection, a new Honmoon is indeed formed, one which ripples not golden, but a colourful sapphire … far superior than a golden Honmoon could ever be.
1. The voice of the Shepherd and the Thief
First, I want to explore how the imagery of voices is a wonderful metaphor for spiritual warfare. At its heart, K-pop Demon Hunters asks one piercing question: when shame strikes, whose voice do you follow? The familiar voice of condemnation, or the gentler voice of love?
See, when we’re ashamed, our instinct it often to ‘heal’ those painful feelings first, assuming that once they’re healed and gone, we’ll act confidently again. But Scripture offers a different, far more powerful approach, and it is this: choose the voice you want to follow, and then act on what that voice says. I’ll say that again: choose the voice you want to follow, and then act on what that voice says. You can do this even when your feelings haven’t yet caught up. You can do this, particularly when your feelings haven’t yet caught up. For what happens in fact, is that if you actually act according to the voice of love, your feelings will soon catch up.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, calls us to recognize His voice and reject the thief’s. “The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (Jn 10:10). Jesus’ voice always speaks truth and restores us. The devil’s voice always lies and tears us down. But here’s the sobering reality, friends: neither voice can force us to act. Both inspire, tempt, and move us, yes, but the choice remains ours. Free will is the battlefield of the spiritual life. This also means that your negative feelings no longer need to have mastery over you. Once you choose which voice to follow, your feelings will soon catch up.
This is a truth many Christians miss, swinging between one of two extremes: either that we are totally powerless when we are tempted by the devil or, that God wants us to somehow override our free will entirely. Neither is true. We always choose how we respond, and it is precisely this choosing that defines holiness. As St. Ignatius reminds us, holiness is not a life free from desolation—Christ Himself experienced much desolation. Rather holiness is choosing the good in spite of desolation. That is the invitation, and that is where the battle is won.
The battle of voices is the central drama for both Rumi and Jinu. For Rumi, the struggle is whether to believe the loud voice that brands her a demon or the quiet voice inviting her to embrace her true self. For Jinu, it’s choosing between Gwi-Ma’s relentless accusations and Rumi’s gentle reminder that he is not defined by his sin. What makes the film so powerful is that both characters ultimately act against the louder, shame-filled voices that once ruled their lives. Sometimes, those harmful voices even come from those closest to us—like Celine for Rumi—making discernment all the harder. This is why so much of counselling, prayer ministry, and Unbound ministry focuses on re-training us to hear God’s deeper, steadier voice rather than the louder voices of even our well-meaning family, cultures, or communities. Rumi becomes a true hero because she dares to trust that voice, returning to the arena with her scars, choosing courage over shame. That act sparks Gwi-Ma’s downfall and the dawn of a new Honmoon.
I recall a time when someone I was walking with chose to act against a voice that was crippling her. She had been caught in a scandal in her workplace and this compounded when she had a meltdown in the team meeting, getting on the wrong side of her manager. This then led into a spiral of shame, where she wanted to disappear and quit a job she actually loved. And so, she pulled a sickie for a few days, wondering how she was ever going to face everyone again. We talked through the scenario in our session together, and she could clearly articulate what the voice of God was softly inviting of her, and what the voice of the devil was screaming loudly. She concluded that she was going to listen to the still small voice and return to work on Monday. We then walked through how she was going to do this. To counter her belief that she would be ostracized, we developed a mantra to repeat to herself “I belong to God, and I belong everywhere”, that she could repeat to herself when shame screamed she didn’t belong. We also did some coaching on body posturing, deep breathing and even rehearsed a little script she could say if anyone confronted her about the incident. In summary, this woman deciding which voice she was going to follow, and when she did, the feelings of love and belonging returned, and those of shame diminished. Friends, wait no longer for your feelings of shame to be healed, before you act. Choose instead to act according to the voice of God … and watch what happens to all those toxic feelings.
2. Community and the healing of shame
Brené Brown once said that shame is the fear of disconnection—the belief that if others knew our shameful demons, they wouldn’t want a relationship with us. Yet K-pop Demon Hunters offers a different message: that embracing our shame and literal scars can actually create deeper connection. A powerful moment near the end of the film shows the Huntrix girls breaking Gwi-Ma’s curse when they realise that their scars—Rumi’s fear, Mira’s temper, and Zoey’s insecurity—are what unite them. Their unity, more than their song, is what defeats the demons. Having said that, being vulnerable requires a level of trust in those receiving it; without that, it risks further isolation. This is why we must carefully choose whom we confide in—because when vulnerability is received well, it brings profound healing, but when rejected, it deepens our isolation. Jinu models this well in the movie: he doesn’t reveal his shameful past to just anyone, but chooses Rumi, whom he learns to trust. Even then, he opens up only in stages, only disclosing the full extent of his sin towards the end.
There is however, another great misunderstanding when it comes to bringing our demons into light – and this is so important, I’m going to turn the background music off for a second (pause). There are two ways we can bring our demons to light: one, with an attitude of pride, and the other, with an attitude of humility. Sadly, many in our culture today have opted for an attitude of pride, especially in the political or online space. Slogans like ‘this is me’ or ‘this is my authentic self’ effectively identifies ourselves with our demons and is far more about the ego, than it is about building relationship. When taken to an extreme, such an attitude isolates the individual further, forming subcommunities that solely identify themselves with their wound. This is not the Christian invitation to healing, nor a healthy integration of shame. Rather, bringing our shame to light should always be done with humility and sensitivity, the fruits of which is a restoration into community. Think of the examples of Jesus with the woman caught in adultery, with Zacchaeus, with Peter and with the Woman at the Well. After meeting us in our vulnerability, Jesus always ensures that there is a movement back into community and right relationship.
Friends, know that you’re listening to someone who has personally experienced how crippling shame can be. I’ve felt the pain of having my big mistakes exposed for all to see. Though I’d never wish this cross upon anyone, I want to share with you a message of hope about the unexpected graces this experience brought me. First, it meant I had little choice but to root my identity firmly in who God said I was, rather than who other people said I was. Cos the fact of the matter is, I did stuff up … but God’s voice said that “you are far, far, far more than your stuff ups – you are my beloved son”. In that promise, I could finally break free from the idol of reputation and people-pleasing, freer now to step into God’s new plans for me. That is true freedom. Second, I discovered a surprising lightness, even relief, in having a major skeleton in the closet exposed. Like most of us, I once read with dread Jesus’ words: “For nothing is hidden that will not be brought into the light …” But now, having faced exposure of my big skeleton, I actually felt uniquely blessed—I could drop my masks, no longer needing to pretend I was perfect or preserve an image. And the greatest grace? This whole episode actually deepened—not threatened—intimacy with my friends and family, who proved now that they were truly here to stay. After all, if even this doesn’t drive them away, I’m convinced that their love for me is truly unconditional. This kind of confidence simply cannot be gained otherwise; and I now celebrate how their love reflects God’s own unwavering love. Maybe I’m the most blessed of all.
3. The New Honmoon and the New Covenant
I love the little detail about how when Rumi tries hiding her part demon nature, it leads her to literally losing her voice. Symbolically, our voice is a primary means by which we enter relationship with others. To lose one’s voice then, is to lose the capacity to relate and be known. Hence, she just couldn’t sing their debut Golden… not just because it wasn’t the right song, but because that was never her song. Rather the final song ‘This is what it sounds like’, is the song of her heart, proclaiming “the scars are part of me, darkness and harmony, this is what it sounds like”.
Celine’s inability to reconcile ‘darkness and harmony’, sinner and saint nearly kills Rumi. The moment when she hits rock bottom and confides in Celine under the tree, Rumi declares in a scary voice that something was terribly wrong with the original Honmoon, scaring Celine. Celine then says: “This is why we have to hide it… our thoughts and fears must never be seen, it’s the only way to protect the Honmoon. To which Rumi replies: “If this is the Honmoon I’m supposed to protect, I’m glad to see it destroyed.” This is such a powerful line – and my thoughts immediately go to Christ declaring the destruction of the Old Covenant, in order to recreate it the New Covenant. Let me explain.
In the Old Covenant—the one God made with the Israelites—sin and sinners had no place in the community. Those deemed unclean were cast out, exiled, or even put to death. The Old Law emphasized God’s holiness, which could not coexist with sin; therefore, sin had to be purged. In many ways, this is like the original Honmoon in the movie, a barrier designed to keep demons away from earth. But as the story unfolds, we see the need for a new Honmoon—one that could embrace the paradox of humans like Rumi and Jinu, who carry both shame and goodness. This points us to the New Covenant that Jesus came to establish. Like Rumi, Jesus’ body bore visible “marks”—the scars of our shame and sin— and from these wounds, He birthed something entirely new: a New Covenant that welcomes sinners into God’s presence. Seen this way, Rumi becomes a Christ figure—the third member of her own “trinity,” a character who embodies two natures and reconciles them, just as Christ did.
The implications of this, dear friends, are truly profound. How often are we tempted to write someone off, once their failure and sin become exposed? How often are we tempted to write ourselves off? And yet, the New Covenant embraces the reality that all sinners can become saints, and indeed, the saint is precisely the person who embraces the fact they are a sinner. Hmmm. In the Church, we often imagine growing in holiness as a linear journey toward greater moral perfection; more prayer, more virtue, more ministry, and so on. And in a sense, this model of holiness is indeed valid and deeply important. But there is another, true and complementary way of understanding holiness: the integration of our brokenness. This is the journey of accepting that we are wounded, that we are sinners, that we are weak… and yet, astonishingly, we are still deeply loved. This is the great paradox, the “both/and” of our faith – that we are fallen, and yet we are beloved children of God. To illustrate this, I invite you to picture the famous Japanese art of kintsugi. This is the practice of repairing broken pottery – bowls that have been shattered into pieces are painstakingly restored. But rather than hiding the cracks, they are lined with gold. The result is breathtaking: these bowls are not only more beautiful than before, but they are also more valuable for having been broken. Their scars become their glory.
So it is with Christ and His invitation for us. He does not merely mend us; He transforms us. In His hands, our wounds create space of grace, and our very brokenness becomes a testimony of His love. Holiness, then, is not simply a climb toward moral heights, but also a deepening journey of allowing Christ to turn our fractures into something radiant. This is the story of Rumi, and this is our story too.
As we finish this episode, I want to offer a very practical Practical Pilgrim exercise. As hinted at earlier, we need to both choose and act upon which voice we listen to. But how do we do this, when our feelings make us want to cower and hide? Vinh Giang, produces amazing videos on public speaking, social skills, confidence and all the stuff we need to combat shame. He released a video recently which teaches us how to act in the midst of shame, esp. when our feelings haven’t caught up.
Need support healing through shame?
Once again dear friends, if my services as a spiritual director or life coach can support your journey towards finding freedom from shame, reach out to me, and we can set up a time. Yes, Lawrence is an accredited spiritual director, as well as the host of The Myth Pilgrim!
