We were reading The Scarlet Letter just as I have done in my 11th grade classes for 20 years now. Maybe at the point of recognition, we were actually discussing chapters 5 – 7 in anticipation of reading chapter 8 together. I always read chapter 8 with them because I love it. Chapter 8 is an action moment in the novel where secrets come to light, and we really see into some of the characters in a way we haven’t, yet. Anyway, in discussing chapter 7, we discussed Puritan hypocrisy, the symbolism of the A magnified in the suit of armor, and Hester’s purpose for being at the governor’s mansion. I think I must have posed this question to my class: “When she arrives at the governor’s door, what happens?”.
And then it hit me (if I may use a cliche). When the servant at first doesn’t want to allow Hester into the mansion because the letter startles him and because the governor is hosting important guests, he at first refuses her entry. Then, when she insists, he grows afraid of the letter and imagines she has power he doesn’t understand, and he lets her in anyway. Yet, in between these two moments lies a little sentence that caused me to gasp and pause with its relevance and profundity this year.
“‘Nevertheless, I will enter,'” Hester says.
Just a few days before we had this discussion in class, very similar words were spoken in our US Senate when Senator Elizabeth Warren tried to read a letter from Coretta Scott King about nominee for attorney general, Jeff Sessions. After she was silenced under Rule 19, Majority Leader Senator Mitch McConnell explained, “She was warned. She was given an explanation. Nevertheless, she persisted.”
Like Hester. Hester had been warned countless times before why she must reveal the name of her baby’s father. She had been warned by Chillingworth not to reveal his true identity. Chapters 2 – 4 are nothing more than the town warning Hester that what she had done and what she persisted to do at that very moment were wrong. Then, as she attempted to enter the governor’s house because she knows the town’s rulers are discussing whether to take away her baby because they perceive her to be an unfit mother, she was warned again, given an explanation as to why she could not enter the governor’s house. Nevertheless, she entered.
She entered because she was desperate to keep her child. She entered because she knew she had no one else to rely on to argue her case. She entered because the moment required resolution and determination and courage, not adherence to a social code or socially expected politeness.
I can only speculate that Elizabeth Warren may have felt similar desperation, but I know that I have felt similar desperation on occasions in my life. Times where I had to push forward past the doorkeeper who wanted to keep the situation polite and quiet, but where polite and quiet would result in disaster for me. How can it be that in 2017 the story of a Puritan girl in the 1600s resonates so surely with my life as an independent woman with a career and a family and what would appear to the be a solid future?
First, that is what great art does. It transcends time and place. Yet, there is more to this story here. Something particularly connected with our world right now.
We have Dimmesdale, the representative of the church, who cannot bear to confess his own sin out of fear for himself and the souls of the people in his congregation. He cannot tell the truth because that would devastate those who nearly worship him. Instead, he hides his sin and punishes himself in a useless attempt to cleanse himself and become a more fit leader of the church. The symbol for the church seems to scream out our own failure to deal with our own sins in the modern church. We go on preaching and presenting a front of what is “supposed to be” while we suffer hidden ills of all sorts. We just won’t allow ourselves to get real about what matters, about our universal sinful nature that applies to every soul on earth, and about the Jesus way to approach sin and each other. And the church suffers today much like Dimmesdale does in the novel, looking frail and weakened by inner turmoil and accusations. The battles raging in Dimmesdale’s mind mirror the battles raging among Christians today, those who claim to follow the way of Jesus but spend our time beating ourselves up instead of reaching out to our Lord and Savior, believing in his redemptive power. If we will just confess, he is just to forgive us; isn’t that what the scripture says? Do we believe it? Then, why must we insist on hiding our shame and pretending to be perfect? We see where the hypocrisy leads Dimmesdale.
Then, the representatives of the government. The ministers, the governor, the judges, the town beedle, and even the doorkeeper at the governor’s mansion all believe they are doing the right thing. They want to protect Pearl, they want to punish the sinful, they want justice in their town. Yet, in their efforts to follow the law, they ignore humanity. They ignore the realities of the people they serve. They ignore the effects of their policies while they tour the governor’s gardens and discuss whether peaches and pears might grow in the New England climate. They even try to tell Hester that taking Pearl away will be better for them both when they know very little about the life Hester and Pearl lead. Everyday, I see our local, state, and national leaders passing laws and initiating policies that simply reveal a complete ignorance of the lives of the very people they serve, even if they endeavor to enact these policies with the best of intentions. They may enter into public service with the noblest of goals, promising to advocate for the people they represent, yet somehow they know very little about the lives we lead. Regardless of party affiliation, the pattern persists.
So, what happens when the church is too busy putting on a show for everyone else while battling internally and when a representative government ignores humanity in its decision making? We allow a Chillingworth to enter silently into the dynamic, someone smart and destructive, someone who takes advantage of our distraction and our disjointedness and quietly leads us to our own destruction.
Nevertheless, Hester entered. Nevertheless, Hester persisted in doing right. She spent her time working diligently, providing for the poor, becoming a helpmate in the darkest of times for anyone in town who needed help. Even as others shunned her and degraded her, nevertheless she persisted. Who grows in strength and honesty and respect? Hester. Who develops wisdom that others seek? Who develops an understanding of human frailty and a sympathy for others’ failings? Who is the hero of the story? Hester.
Nevertheless, we must enter. We must learn from Hester. We must enter into the world and serve it just as Jesus did and as He commanded us to do. We must enter into the darkness of our world and let our ‘A’ light the pathway. Let us allow our Lord and Savior to turn our worst sins into a beacon to guide others out of sin. Let us trust the Lord is right when he says we are to walk humbly and seek justice and serve the least of these, even when the least of these turn away from us or spit at us or reject the very hand there to help them. Let us refrain from trying to hide our our sinful past and instead let the Lord transform it into something truly good in this evil world. Let us follow in Hester’s footsteps and not be deterred by the powers that tell us we can’t enter. Let us not be deterred when other believers want to hide behind a facade of perfection. Let us not be deterred by a government that doesn’t listen. Let us forge ahead, diligently doing what is required of us because then we can make a real and positive difference in our societies, just as Hester did.

Leave a comment