The Scarlet Letter: Why it Still Matters to the Church Today

I'll admit it.

I never actually read The Scarlet Letter.

At least, not in high school.

Like countless students before me, I relied mostly on the Cliff Notes and even shared the reading I actually did with my dear friend Samantha! She’d read some chapters; I’d read the others. We’d meet in the bathroom before class to compare notes! TRUE STORY! Basically, I learned enough to write the paper and moved on. I knew the broad strokes of the story. Hester Prynne had a child out of wedlock. She refused to identify the child's father. As punishment, she was required to wear a scarlet "A" as a public reminder of her sin.

That was enough to get me through English class.

But what struck me this time as I thought about it wasn't Hester's sin. It was the scarlet letter, which for years identified her by what others saw as the worst chapter of her life.

Ultimately, Hester was vindicated, and over time, something remarkable happened. The symbol that had once represented shame came to represent compassion, wisdom, and strength. Many in the community even came to understand the "A" as standing for "Able."

As I reflected on Hester's story, I couldn't help but think about how it relates to the Church today. Haven’t we all experienced difficult seasons? I know I have! In those times, we have the option to either open up and share them with others or keep them to ourselves.

Have you ever wondered why we are somewhat hesitant to share those with our Christian brothers and sisters? Maybe we are embarrassed. That’s valid. But maybe we are concerned with how others will respond to us. That’s valid too. Because, let’s be frank, they will either come alongside us or judge us. One of those has the potential to leave us feeling so exposed and vulnerable that we never want to share again.

During one of my more challenging times, my dear friend and mentor, Jerry Smith—"The Rev," as so many of us affectionately called him—immediately extended grace to me in a way I have never forgotten. He had a remarkable ability to see people not simply as they were in a given moment, but through the lens of God's grace and the transforming work He was accomplishing in their lives. Who they could be through the grace of God. The Rev responded to me from that place.

What a gift it is when someone chooses to see God's redeeming work in our lives rather than allowing a single chapter to define us. Looking back, I realize his grace didn't simply encourage me in the moment—though it did that, and that was so important—it also gave me the confidence to keep pursuing God.

That gift shaped me. It also challenged me.

It challenged me to try to see others through the lens of God's redeeming work.

And it challenged me to start thinking about how others, outside the Church, view us as believers. I wonder if this is one of the places we either reflect the gospel well—or unintentionally obscure it. Here's what I mean. We rightly take sin seriously. We should. Holiness matters. Repentance matters. Accountability matters.

But if holiness, repentance, and accountability do not ultimately lead to restoration, I'm persuaded we've missed the point.

The New Testament repeatedly calls believers to restore one another gently (Galatians 6:1), to forgive as we have been forgiven (Ephesians 4:32), and to remember that every one of us stands before God solely because of His grace (Ephesians 2:8–9). The gospel never minimizes sin, but neither does it allow sin to have the final word.

Perhaps that's why The Scarlet Letter resurfaced in my mind.

This story reminds me how easy it is for all of us to identify people by a single chapter rather than by the whole story God is writing—and what can happen when we choose not to do that.

Jerry understood that truth.

More importantly, Jesus does.

Jesus sees us completely. He knows every failure, every wound, every hidden corner of our hearts. Yet for those who belong to Him, He never defines us by these moments. Through His death and resurrection, He restores us and transforms our lives day by day.

What if the Church became known for seeing and responding to people this way?

Not ignoring sin.

Not dismissing consequences.

But looking at one another through the lens of God's grace and the transforming work He is accomplishing in each of our lives.

If we could do that, I know firsthand what that would accomplish. Rather than forever trapping people in a single chapter of their story, we'd invite them to keep walking into the next chapter God is writing. In other words, we'd create an environment that encourages people to walk more fully with God and embrace the transformative work He wants to accomplish in their lives.

Perhaps then the scarlet letters people wear—whether placed there by others or themselves—would no longer define them but would allow them to speak confidently and personally about God and His grace. About His incredible redemption and restoration. And about how these truths point to a God whom we can trust to transform those things we never wanted others to know.

I can't help but believe that would make all the difference.