We can’t live without it. Redaction has always been part of our lives, but most of us never knew there was a word for it. Now it has become mainstream terminology in political discourse, with the confiscation of alleged classified material from the former U.S. president’s premises by a court-authorized FBI search warrant. The public outcry for transparency demands the authorizing documents be made public. But should the documents be fully revealed, or should they be redacted, that is, have parts of them blacked out before making them public? Redaction, in other words, is selective transparency.

Government agencies have a long history of doing that when exposure of certain information might jeopardize the safety of individuals or the nation. But we, too, have a long history of selective communication in our daily lives. When we tell a story, we selectively include some facts and leave out others. Too much detail can put an audience to sleep. A typical response when someone communicates awkward or embarrassing information is to say, “TMI,” too much information. Sometimes we leave out information to make a story more convincing when telling our side of a conflict. When they don’t want to hear something, children will cover their ears and hum loudly to block out the offending words, a form of self-redaction.

Historians study primary sources, the original writings of people during the period under study, sorting through them all to select the information and flow of events to formulate and communicate their (the historians’) understanding of the events. Historians can arrive at different interpretations, using selected sources to substantiate their perspectives and ignoring or downplaying other sources. This is redaction of history.

Even in the Bible, we see this concept played out, with the four historians, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, recording the life and ministry of Christ from different perspectives. John, for example, includes seven miracle stories of Christ and presents Him as the Son of God. The apostle explains his selection methodology:

Therefore many other signs Jesus also performed in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in His name. (John 20:30–31)

Matthew selects and arranges the events and teachings of Christ to present Jesus as the King of Israel, Mark shows Him to be the Servant, and Luke showcases His humanity.

The most critical place where redaction comes into play concerns our sin. When we confess our sin to God, we must do it without trying to hide any of it from Him. He demands full transparency, with nothing redacted from the core-level admission of our sinfulness. We need to follow David’s example when he confessed, “I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against You, You only, I have sinned, and done what is evil in Your sight …” (Ps. 51:3-4a).

But, praise God, there is another redaction, this one by the Great Redactor Himself.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. (Ps 103:11–12)

The Lord tells us through the prophet Jeremiah, on the one hand, “The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jer. 17:9). But for those who turn to God in repentance, He says, “I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more” (Jer. 31:34). Now that is a redaction that I can rest in. When God blots out sin, it is blotted out entirely and permanently.

Lord, thank You for redacting my sin out of the eternal records of life. Your supreme document, the Bible, authorizes me to believe that I have been cleansed from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). I believe that, and I rest in that truth!