This essay appears in the Success & Failure issue of The Mockingbird magazine.
“Wow!” (They pause.) “Now, what do you think you’ll do with that?”
Are you familiar with this interaction? If so, you might have majored in one of the following areas of study during college:
a) English
b) History
c) Philosophy
d) Communications
I had the privilege of studying two of the above: English and Communications. Well, to be specific, the latter was “Communication Studies,” the academy’s rebranded name for a discipline that no one outside of Communication Studies majors took seriously, which is why we added the word “studies” to the end of it.
And study I did. From poetry to public speaking, communication theory to creative writing, I became a student of words. I learned how language could inspire or indoctrinate, assuage or anger, connect or confuse. I learned how to craft sentences like the one you just read and why alliterations are so alluring. Finally, I learned a very important lesson: words are the secret to success.
Nowhere was this secret more obvious than in the Career Services office of my alma mater. As a student worker, I had an up-close view: a slight change in adjectives on a resume, a liberally edited cover letter, or an interview sprinkled with a few strategically chosen anecdotes could mean the difference between someone getting the job and someone crying in the corner office to one of the career counselors because they didn’t get the job. Words are the secret to success.
Once I entered the professional world myself, a whole other lexicon emerged that set apart the professionally proficient from the professionally prolific. Being able to correctly integrate buzzwords that were blessed by the business gods was a sure way to secure a “quick win” and to “level up.” Sure, the actual work mattered, but the way to increase your “value proposition” was to adopt the language of LinkedIn. Words are the secret to success.
The importance of choosing the right words even applies to romance and dating. If you Google “What Words to Avoid in Your Dating Profile?” lists like “32 Red Flag Phrases” or “15 Annoying Words to Avoid on Dating Apps” or even “20 Sentences to Make Yourself Sound More Charming” act as the Dictionary for Dating. Use the right words and you’ll have a better chance of meeting that special someone; use the wrong words and you’ll end up dying alone. Or so the articles tell me. Words are the secret to success.
Whether we are using our words to get hired, promoted, or swiped-right-on, the words we choose undeniably matter. Even some of most ancient words preserved by our culture clearly state that our use of language is of great consequence. “The getting of treasures by a lying tongue is a fleeting vapor and a snare of death,” reads Proverbs 21:6. “How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire!” says James 3:5. Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of Matthew 12 hammers the point home: “Words are powerful; take them seriously. Words can be your salvation. Words can also be your damnation.” Words are the secret to success.
Choosing the “right” words might be the secret to our successes, but we cannot forget that words have another secret: they can also be wielded as weapons. And much more covertly, too. Even the Psalmist warns: “My companion attacks his friends; he violates his covenant. His talk is smooth as butter, yet war is in his heart; his words are more soothing than oil, yet they are drawn swords” (Psalm 55:20-21).
The “right” words might get us the job, impressing the recruiter with our use of beloved business buzzwords. But those same words can also conceal our debilitating depression until we finally have a breakdown.
The “right” words can charm the guy, winning his affection with clever jokes and quick turns of phrase. But those same words can also keep us from the vulnerable confessions required to deepen our relationships.
The “right” words can keep the wrong people in power. But those same words can burn good things to the ground.
The “right” words can convince us, as they do Eve in Genesis 3, that “You will not certainly die” — even as those same sly words follow us to our graves.
Perhaps you felt like going to your grave while reading Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter (a book I was assigned not once, not twice, but three times throughout my education), but the novel is an indelible testament to the weight of our words.
Arthur Dimmesdale is introduced as an authoritative, well-respected reverend — a man who spends his life preaching the word of God. But Dimmesdale uses Scripture not only to bring salvation to others, but also to save himself from the suspicious eyes of the public. Dimmesdale’s words are the secret to his professional success and his personal damnation.
For seven years, Dimmesdale’s puritanical predications and clerical clothing hide the secret of his affair and the child it produced. Conversely, Hester Prynne, the woman Dimmesdale had the affair with, famously wears her secret on the front of her frock for all to see, emblazoned in red. After years of hiding his side of the secret, Dimmesdale confesses to Hester one night under the cover of darkness:
I should long ago have thrown off these garments of mock holiness, and have shown myself to mankind as they will see me at the judgment-seat. Happy are you, Hester, that wear the scarlet letter openly upon your bosom! Mine burns in secret! Thou little knowest what a relief it is, after the torment of a seven years’ cheat, to look into an eye that recognizes me for what I am!
Maybe you missed this part of The Scarlet Letter because your A.P. English experience was sponsored by SparkNotes. Personally, I missed the punch of this passage because I thought The Scarlet Letter seemed outdated and unrelatable. Years later, however, The Scarlet Letter sadly no longer feels like a work of fiction written two hundred years ago about people two hundred years before that. All it took was seeing The Tweet(s), or reading The Article(s), or listening to The Podcast(s).
It seems like every week a new closet door of the church is being thrown open to reveal skeletons, garments of mock holiness, and spools of scarlet thread. We all take our places outside the door: the bystander who silently takes in the spectacle; the judge who says they saw it coming; the seven years’ cheat confessing his own sins; the woman in scarlet who finds it all to be too little, too late; the person who throws gasoline on the fire; the one who tries to put it out with a spray bottle. No one walks away without burns.
Like Arthur Dimmesdale, we have all used language — even of religion — to boost our image before others. Or like Hester Prynne, we have been burned by the words other people have called us, even people we thought were our friends. Each of us has felt the fear of the judgment-seat and known the torment that comes from living a lie. We all know what it feels like to be Adam as we find him in Genesis 3:
“I heard you coming and didn’t want you to see me naked. So I hid.”
Many of us have spent our lives learning how to hide behind the right words — our own garments of mock holiness — as we seek to ensure our success and hide our secrets. But as easy as it is to disdain Arthur Dimmesdale, he gets one thing right: there is a relief that comes when we look into eyes that recognize us for who we are, even when we’re still hiding from them.
During his trial and crucifixion, Jesus’ words are not really the “right” ones at all, given the situation. In fact, the account in Matthew 27, when Jesus appears before Pilate, says that he doesn’t say anything to his accusers:
Then Pilate asked him, “Don’t you hear the testimony they are bringing against you?” But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge — to the great amazement of the governor.
Christ does not speak again in Matthew’s account until he is nearing his death, crying out, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” or “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus’s words in this moment are not easy to take in; they show Christ in his full humanity as they also show the gravity of our humanity. In Luke, he looks to his right and to his left and recognizes us for who we are. “Father, forgive them,” he says, “for they do not know what they are doing.”
And so we return to the question we began with: “Now, what do you think you’ll do with that?” This is the question all of us will spend our lives trying to answer. What do we do with the Bible’s words, with Jesus’ words? I have an idea, one that is rather challenging for me, a woman of many words. We listen.
We listen to words of the One whom society has dismissed and cast aside. We listen to words that call out our hypocrisies. We listen to words that challenge us at church, at home, at work, and in love. We listen even to the words that we don’t feel are for us, because those truths can heal our burns and mend our wounds.
The Word says we are beloved. The Word calls us his children. The Word declares us a new creation.
Through Christ, God’s words of grace and mercy are words for all of us. They’re for the writer who wields words like weapons, sometimes against others, but mostly against herself. For the teacher who assigned you The Scarlet Letter and the relative who mocked your English/History/Philosophy/Communications major. For the three-times denier who hides his face. For the success addict, the straight-A academic, the shadow dweller, the truth teller. For you — the one who is forgiven and called by a new name.
I have spent many hours of my life reading stories, but there is one story I keep coming back to. And no (thanks be to God), it was not written by Nathaniel Hawthorne. But it is a story of scarlet sin made as white as snow — a story for spectacular sinners and seven years’ cheats: for you and for me. It’s a story that offers ancient words of hope in our heartache and promises relief for our grief. You don’t need an English degree to interpret it, a Communications degree to tell it, or an alluring alliteration to accentuate it. The Good News is for all people.
***
Grace Leuenberger
Kent, Ohio • Email I Use for Coupons • LinkedIn Profile I Feel Obligated to Keep
Phone that I won’t answer if you call because I don’t recognize your number: (—) — —-
@Twitter Where I Retweet Memes
Objective
With 28 years of experience, I would bring a hopeful attitude to the role of Well-Adjusted Adult. I look forward to the possibilities of this position (vocational clarity, increased wisdom, children to care for me as I age, etc.) and enthusiastically present my qualifications below.
Education
Kids of the Kingdom and First Nursery Preschool | Ages 3-5 | 1997-1999
- Exhibited proficiency for snack consumption and singing songs about Jesus.
- Introduced to the concepts of sharing and caring; adopted these practices when they served my purposes.
Sheridan, Luther Low, and Oakview Elementary Schools | Grades K-6 | 1999 to 2006
- Demonstrated propensity for growth (~20 inches in 6 years), an uncontrollable genetic trait I once resented but have come to accept as it allows me to reach all manner of shelves, luggage compartments, etc.
- Developed a sense of humor, endearing me to peers, elders, and older brothers whose favor I wanted to earn, a skill I still employ for deflection and protection in vulnerable and/or tense situations.
Mercer Area Junior/Senior High School | Grades 7-12 | 2006 to 2012
- Survived high-stakes situations including but not limited to: 8th-grade Spanish “Fiesta Days”; co-ed gym class dodgeball tournaments; Junior Prom; and marching band away-[‘game bus rides.
- Displayed aptitude for writing, exhibiting an enduring ability to exceed assigned word count across a variety of mediums including essays, emails, text messages, Instagram captions, and tweets.
- Established honest line of communication with parental unit, persevered by God’s mercy through learner’s permit hours, summer SAT prep class, and a variety of existential crises.
Grove City College | B.A. in Communication Studies | 2012 to 2016
- Passed required pre-calculus, statistics, and chemistry classes without succumbing to despair.
- Expanded knowledge of how little knowledge I actually possess.
- Experienced crippling weight of self-imposed expectations, which threatened to rob me of all joy.
- Observed a mysterious freedom exhibited by certain adults who spoke of things like “grace,” “mercy,” and the merits of “just chilling the heck out a bit.”
- Uncovered new relational perks deriving from the opportunity to love others and be loved just as I am.
Experience
Home of Family Whose Last Name I’ve Forgotten | Mason’s Babysitter | Summer of 2010
- Confirmed that children are hard to take care of and screen time is God’s grace.
- Overhauled strategic plan to not marry by age 22 or procreate by age 23.
- Enhanced the practice of gratitude towards parental unit who raised four children to become Well-Adjusted Adults* *Child #4 pending review.
Places I’ve Done the Jobs I’ve Had After College | Young Professional | May 2016 to Present
- Exceeded expectations for how quickly parental unit would be contacted regarding vocational errors, streamlining the tearful process from a two-month turnaround to an efficient two days.
- Survived resigning from three jobs, discovering that the discernment of Career Stuff™ is Pretty Freaking Hard™.
- Verified that many Well-Adjusted Adults are also insecure and need encouragement too.
Everywhere Else That I Didn’t Work | Young Adult, Less Professional | May 2016 to Present
- Navigated a series of disconcerting events such as the 2016 Presidential Election, the death of childhood dog, the move to a city with no friends, the raising of a puppy, the acquisition of health insurance, the 2020 Presidential Election, the novel ongoing coronavirus pandemic, and the series finale of The Good Place.
- Completed one (1) marathon* (*vomited and cried on finish line volunteer).
- Partnered with older and wiser mentors to learn something from ancient text called “The Bible.”
- Collaborated with family, friends, and the Holy Spirit on quest to live The Good Life.
Awards and Honors
- 1st place, Distance Softball Toss • Field Day, 2005 • Oakview Elementary School
- Named “Best Dog Mom” five years running • 2016-2021 • Tess Leuenberger, Golden Retriever
- Internally Awarded Gold Star for Entering Target and Resisting Impulse Buys • January 4, 2022 • Kent-Stow Target
Skills
Submitting taxes without being imprisoned ■■■■■
Recalling mom’s phone number from memory ■■■■■
Knowing which lightbulb to buy ■■□□□
Baking cookies ■■■■□
Saying “I love you” to people I love without cringing ■■■■□
Summary
With all this life experience, it seems clear that whatever I have accomplished, acquired, demonstrated, developed, experienced, established, gained, and gleaned is because of the love of others who have gone behind me and before me and that I am ready as I will ever be to step into the position of Well-Adjusted Adult. As relevant parties consider me for this role, I remain hopeful for the future, where all manners of things shall be made well-adjusted.
featured image by Ollie Silvester.
COMMENTS
One response to “Scarlet Letter Secrets”
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Absolutely loved this article. I cringe when reading most LinkedIn post, social media arguments, resumes that are cliche, or listening to awkward small talk because of the words we will use to make ourselves look good. This article clearly sums up what Jeremiah said “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?”(Jeremiah 17:9) In an attempt to hide our fallen nature, we will actually try to make ourselves look good and become acceptable with the things we say. I really love this article because of the reminder that the only way our words can be pure and have meaning is through Christ.