red ink

I recently read about a school in England that banned the use of red ink. Teachers at Uplands Manor Primary no longer mark students’ papers with the standard hue, opting instead for the gentler tone of green. Obviously, color is not the real issue here. Reading between the lines, one is left to assume that educators are fearful of bruising young egos. But the question stands: Shouldn’t that shocking glare of red be used to get students’ attention? Shouldn’t pupils be given a clear, unedited picture of their standing, regardless of how unpleasant it may be?

 

There is a similar argument regarding issues of much greater weight than marks on a paper. Yet the fundamental principle is the same: God’s red ink is much too harsh and must be toned down for fear of insulting or turning people off to the Gospel.

 

Now, by no stretch of the imagination do I consider myself to be a “hellfire and brimstone” preacher – though such elements are undeniably present in Scripture (Jesus spoke about hell more often than any other individual in the Bible). Nor do I endorse a “bully pulpit” model. In addition, I believe the central message of the Christian faith is one of love, grace, forgiveness, and reconciliation (see John 3:16-17). God is, without question, a God of love. Nevertheless, you cannot have the latter without the former; if sin and hell are not real, there is nothing to be forgiven of or saved from, and a savior is irrelevant.

 

It also stands to reason that if souls are in peril, they must be told so. In other words, they must see red ink. As Christians, we cannot and must not be afraid of giving offense. While we should certainly seek to make truth known in a spirit of love (Ephesians 4:15) and avoid being intentionally abrasive and needlessly offensive, the fact remains that offense is a necessary part of salvation. Is this not the essence of conviction, which leads to repentance? I am wrong and Jesus is right.

 

Some argue that we preach a message of bigotry, intolerance, and hatred. I argue that nothing could be further from the truth. If love’s greatest act was the substitutionary death of Jesus for the sins of humanity, its second is the declaration of that Savior. To withhold that message is the truest act of hatred.

 

So yes, I preach about sin. I call it what it is. But that is so I can also proclaim this wonderful Savior who saved me from my red ink.