The Scarlet Thing in You

                                                     The Scarlet Thing in You

 

 

Hawthorne should be read in every middle school in any of the United States and for a reason that many of us do not seem to be reasonable. Tolerance. Not that notion that whatever you believe is valid to me -emphatically not. Nor the notion that whatever you or I say must be accepted by the other in a sort of clandestine dance to make each other feel good about ourselves. Certainly not.

 

True tolerance is the belief that what you say has meaning, (no matter that it be wrong) and only because you say it. It is up to me then to agree or not, and if not, then tolerance dictates that you must accept the rebuttal, (whether right or wrong). All is fair in love and war we say- except many do not see it this way.

 

Tolerance has accepted a new genius, one that has replaced the old genius with a subtle twist. The new genius would have you accept that the point it makes is valid only because it was spoken. The old genius would have you explain it to the point of breaking the absurd against the bedrock of the tried and true. In either case that new genius dictates that what you speak had better be well spoken lest you lose constituents on either side of the age-old fence.

 

And so we mark the time between elections with scarlet letters. Pointing fingers, drawing first blood…competition. It should be called insanity. As insane as the Scarlet Letter was back in it’s day. The audacity of a dialogue between the sinner and the supposed saints, (God forbid!) I shall name this, call it to task, and redeem it.

 

I will call it freedom, the freedom to make mistakes without shame. As I do, as you do as well.

 

After all, we are all called to a higher notion, one that does not split hairs but that exceeds our expectations in love. One who tolerates our idiosyncrasies? And this we know to be God.

 

And he does not place letters on anyone’s sweater for the very reason same reason that he does not condemn. Out of love- and the knowledge that the very same person condemned for all mankind wore those letters for us all. Those letters now have meaning, they are made of blood and we hold onto them as the need fits. Until we deem them useless and then we give them over.

 

Enough letters then and we should have an alphabet, a spoken language and books; enough then to begin the great dialogue with our creator.

 

But in this new age we are unable to accept the old as more or less and unless we deem the useless more and more useless the same as the shoe must fit, we must wear it. Simply put, there is no longer a dialogue; left… or right. Just letters.

 

 

It is our choice to speak. But it is duty alone that listens.