Jesus Took My Scarlet Letter and Stomped On It

I remember the day I got my Scarlet Letter. You don’t need to know the details. There’s enough about it in my blog history or my book.

For the first week or so, I thought about the fact that I had committed adultery. By the time I had gotten to the act of it, my heart had already hardened to the degree that it hadn’t mattered. The relationship between myself and my wife had been troubled for a long time. In my book, I talk about how most fallen pastors have a terrible relationship with their wife before they commit adultery (I also give statistics on how the ministry can have disastrous effects on a marriage).

I was ready to get out of ministry. Most fallen pastors are. They are tired of conflict, interpersonal turmoil and dealing with difficult people. I wanted out. Are those excuses for sin? Nope. But pastors can face extreme circumstances that can lead them to a dangerous place if they aren’t aware of them or know how to deal with stress.

But I don’t know how to describe the day that I first felt the sting of sin. The fact that there was a definite mark on my soul. In fact, it was like it was there on my skin. For everyone to see. But no one could. No one knew my sin. I had been able to hide it from everyone. But it didn’t take long for it to be discovered.

When my scarlet letter was revealed, it soon became a mark of ridicule, shame, guilt and public disgrace.

“There he goes! What would your mother have thought? You are such a hypocrite! Your poor wife! Look what you’ve done to her and your family! You are such a terrible person!”

I sank so low. Because what they were saying hit so close to home. I couldn’t keep my head up in public. When I walked out in grocery stores, department stores or anywhere, I kept my head down. I didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone, fearing that I might see scorn in someone’s eye. I deserved it all. It was the consequence of my sin.

This is typical for a fallen pastor. I deleted my Facebook account because I was getting threats, nasty messages and angry notes. I responded to some of them in anger, to my shame.

Did I repent? Did I run to God? No. I thought, and just for anonymous examples: “Why should I be branded with a great red ‘A’ on my body? I know the sins of people in my church and they are just as bad! Why not a ‘G‘ for gossip? Why not a ‘I‘ for illegitimate child? Why not a ‘T‘ for thief? Why not a ‘D‘ for drug addict? How about an ‘L‘ for living together?” I wrongly pointed my judgment outward instead of inward. I was angry.

Instead of repentance, I wanted to throw down hatred toward the people who were judging me. How dare they? They were sinners like me! They had no right! And worse, they were making me out to be the biggest sinner in recent memory. I got angrier. More bitter. Defensive. I got more detached from God.

I knew full well that there was a blood red A for adultery on my chest for everyone to see. But instead of repentance, I responded with an angry attitude of, “Come look at it! Here it is! But make sure you check your sins at the door!”

That was not the right attitude. It was sinful. I see that now.

This is the best example of longsuffering I could find. Apologies to Cubs fans.

Where was God during this time? Thankfully, He had not given up on me. He was patient, longsuffering and forgiving. But He also was getting ready to deal with me in His own way. Eventually, He pointed me to Scripture. In His time, He showed me that I had sinned greatly. I had fallen. I was responsible for my sin. No one else was. Just me.

I remember the day that happened. I opened my bible to John 8, the passage where Jesus encounters the adulterous woman. That day, that woman had no other friend but Christ. On the day that He finally broke and humbled me, I had no other friend but Christ.

The “A” that was emblazoned on my chest, my soul, my heart was weighing heavy. I didn’t think I would ever escape it. When people looked at me, I could see that they saw an adulterous pastor. At least, I could see that they were disappointed in me. They felt sorry for me. They felt I would never be the same or whole again.

In Nathaniel Hawthorne’s book, Hester Prynne takes time to embellish the Scarlet Letter she is bound to wear in public. She makes it part of her daily dress. She makes no shame of it while the townspeople scorn her. But the good news is, we don’t have to embellish our sin and make it part of us. We can be free from it.

The day that I finally listened to God, the day that I turned my heart back to him after my sin, He made me whole. He ripped that “A” off my soul. He took it and cast it as far as the east is from the west. I learned that if anyone remembers that sin, it is me. That day, He took that Scarlet Letter that I had acquired because of my sin – it was all mine for the bearing and it was all my fault – Jesus took my Scarlet Letter and stomped on it.

And if anyone holds that sin against me to this day, it is me. People in my community still talk about it, still look at me in shame and disgust, but they are not God. The person who reminds me of it the most is me. I seem to be the one who, in my deepest anxiety cries out, “Lord, I don’t deserve your grace, I deserve death. I committed adultery. I lied, cheated and tore people apart!” His response? “I stomped on that a long time ago. You go live. Sin no more.”

No one, not even God, can hold me accountable for that Scarlet Letter on judgment day. Christ bore that sin at Calvary. It pains me to no end to know that He had to bear the punishment for my sin upon Him for the sin that I committed. My sin cost Him pain.

In the end, though, there is no longer an “A” to be seen. No mark on my soul. No mark on my sin. No mark to be embroidered on my wife or myself. We have been forgiven by a kind and true Savior. Anyone who desires to hold us culpable must first go to the truest Judge in the universe.

The Scarlet Letter has been ripped from my soul by my savior. When I imagine it might be there, it is miraculously gone. When people look at me like some kind of leper, or imagine they see a bright, shining “A“, they are mistaken. It is only a figment of their imagination. They are free to look me all over, only to find nothing but the righteousness of Christ. It is all because of Christ’s painful, solemn, redeeming work at the cross.

Something I will never get over. Something I never fully understood before I fell from ministry.

The best news I have is this – if you have sinned, you have hope. Cast your sins upon the lawmaker, the lawgiver, and the one who has satisfied us from the bounds of sin. What more could we ask? Once you repent and walk in the way of holiness, you are free forever. It’s not a trick, it’s freedom that our heavenly father gives us. Walk in it.

Let him erase that terrible mark. He does not desire guilt for His children. He desires our freedom.

Walk in it.

I remember the day I got my Scarlet Letter. You don’t need to know the details. There’s enough about it in my blog history or my book.

For the first week or so, I thought about the fact that I had committed adultery. By the time I had gotten to the act of it, my heart had already hardened to the degree that it hadn’t mattered. The relationship between myself and my wife had been sour for years. In my book, I talk about how most fallen pastors have a terrible relationship with their wife before they commit adultery.

I was ready to get out of ministry. Most fallen pastors are. They are tired of conflict, interpersonal turmoil and dealing with difficult people. I wanted out. I loved Allison too. That made a huge difference.

But I don’t know how to describe the day that I first felt the sting of sin. The fact that there was a definite mark on my soul. In fact, it was like it was there on my skin. For everyone to see. But no one could. No one knew my sin. I had been able to hide it from everyone. But it didn’t take long for it to be discovered.

When my scarlet letter was revealed, it soon became a mark of ridicule, shame, guilt and public disgrace.

“There he goes! What would your mother have thought? You are such a hypocrite! Your poor wife! Look what you’ve done to her and your family! You are such a terrible person!”

I sank so low. Because what they were saying hit so close to home. I couldn’t keep my head up in public. When I walked out in grocery stores, department stores or anywhere, I kept my head down. I didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone, fearing that I might see scorn in someone’s eye.

This is typical for a fallen pastor. I deleted my Facebook account because I was getting threats, nasty messages and angry notes. I responded to some of them in anger, to my shame.

Did I repent? Did I run to God? No. I thought, and just for anonymous examples: “Why should I be branded with a great red ‘A’ on my body? I know the sins of people in my church and they are just as bad! Why not a ‘G‘ for gossip? Why not a ‘I‘ for illegitimate child? Why not a ‘T‘ for thief? Why not a ‘D‘ for drug addict? How about an ‘L‘ for living together?” I pointed my judgment outward instead of inward. I was angry.

Instead of repentance, I wanted to throw down hatred toward the people who were judging me. How dare they? They were sinners like me! They had no right! And worse, they were making me out to be the biggest sinner in recent memory. I got angrier. More bitter. Defensive. I got more detached from God.

I knew full well that there was a blood red A for adultery on my chest for everyone to see. But instead of repentance, I responded with an angry attitude of, “Come look at it! Here it is! But make sure you check your sins at the door!”

That was not the right attitude. It was sinful. I see that now.

Where was God during this time? Thankfully, He had not given up on me. He was patient, longsuffering and forgiving. But He also was getting ready to deal with me in His own way.Eventually, he pointed me to Scripture. In His time, He showed me that I had sinned greatly. I had fallen. I was responsible for my sin. No one else was. Just me. I remember the day that happened. I opened my bible to John 8, the passage where Jesus encounters the adulterous woman. That day, that woman had no other friend but Christ. On the day that I finally broke, I had no other friend but Christ.

The “A” that was emblazoned on my chest, my soul, my heart was weighing heavy. I didn’t think I would ever escape it. When people looked at me, I could see that they saw an adulterous pastor. At least, I could see that they were disappointed in me. They felt sorry for me. They felt I would never be the same or whole again.

In Nathaniel Hawthorne’s book, Hester Prynne takes time to embellish the Scarlet Letter she is bound to wear in public. She makes it part of

This is the best example of longsuffering I could find. Apologies to Cubs fans.

her daily dress. She makes no shame of it while the townspeople scorn her. But the good news is, we don’t have to embellish our sin and make it part of us. We can be free from it.

The day that I finally listened to God, the day that I turned my heart back to him after my sin, He made me whole. He ripped that “A” off my soul. He took it and cast it as far as the east is from the west. I learned that if anyone remembers that sin, it is me. That day, He took that Scarlet Letter that I had acquired because of my sin – it was all mine for the bearing and it was all my fault – and He stomped on it.

And if anyone holds that sin against me to this day, it is me. People in my community still talk about it, still look at me in shame and disgust, but they are not God. The person who reminds me of it the most is me. I seem to be the one who, in my deepest anxiety cries out, “Lord, I don’t deserve your grace, I deserve death. I committed adultery. I lied, cheated and tore people apart!” His response? “I stomped on that a long time ago. You go live. Sin no more.”

No one, not even God, can hold me accountable for that Scarlet Letter on judgment day. Christ bore that sin at Calvary. It pains me to no end to know that He had to bear the punishment for my sin upon Him for the sin that I committed. My sin cost Him pain.

In the end, though, there is no longer an “A” to be seen. No mark on my soul. No mark on my sin. No mark to be embroidered on my wife or myself. We have been forgiven by a kind and true Savior. Anyone who desires to hold us culpable must first go to the truest judge in the universe.

The Scarlet Letter has been ripped from my soul by my savior. When I imagine it might be there, it is miraculously gone. When people look at me like some kind of leper, or imagine they see a bright, shining “A“, they are mistaken. It is only a figment of their imagination. They are free to look me all over, only to find nothing but the righteousness of Christ. It is all because of Christ’s painful, solemn, redeeming work at the cross.

Something I will never get over. Something I never fully understood before I fell from ministry.

The best news I have is this – if you have sinned, you have hope. Cast your sins upon the lawmaker, the lawgiver, and the one who has satisfied us from the bounds of sin. What more could we ask? Once you repent and walk in the way of holiness, you are free forever. It’s not a trick, it’s freedom that our heavenly father gives us. Walk in it.

Let him erase that terrible mark. He does not desire guilt for His children. He desires our freedom.

Walk in it.

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____________________________

Ray Carroll is the author of “Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World,” which answers many of the questions I get asked on a weekly basis.

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