Let’s talk about Helen Keller.

You’ve probably heard of her. She was born both blind and deaf and yet went on to become famous for being an author and activist for those with disabilities. I imagine you, like me, have heard her story and have stood amazed at how this brave soul overcame her obstacles.

When I learned that she was an author banned by the Nazis, it made sense to me–my research had included the sad fact that children born with disabilities were being forcibly euthanized by the late 1930s in Germany, and to my mind, it would make sense that they’d want to get rid of evidence like this woman who had overcome her disabilities and inspired others to do the same.

Turns out, I was missing a step. They didn’t start by banning all books by Helen Keller (though they did by the end–the final Nazi ban list is of authors, not titles). Nope. They started by banning one. It was called How I Became a Socialist.

I’ll admit it. I didn’t realize Helen Keller was a socialist. And when I saw this a couple weeks ago, do you know what my first reaction was? My heart sank. I drew back. And I thought, Okay, maybe she’s not the best example to start my series on books-banned-by-Nazi-Germany leading up to the release of The Collector of Burned Books. I’ll keep looking.

But then, over the next few days, my own reaction kept haunting me.

Why was I willing to dismiss someone’s story just because I don’t agree with her politics? Especially when the socialism she subscribed to hadn’t even been experimented with yet? She believed in an idea. Other people (myself included) disagree with that idea. But either way, she is still a remarkable person who did remarkable things and made a HUGE difference in this world. And even if she subscribed to it knowing what I deem its failings…the same questions stand.

Does one opinion, stance, or belief define a whole person? Is it reason to condemn a person? To stop listening to them entirely? To cancel them? To ban them?

Years ago, when what we’ve come to call “cancel culture” really began to gain ground, I spoke out against it. At the time, some of “my” books and understandings were being challenged or condemned or removed. Suddenly Gone with the Wind was on the “out” list, as was To Kill a Mockingbird, and of course, Huckleberry Finn. And I cried out, “NO! We have to keep reading these books! Even when we don’t think like they do anymore, we HAVE to keep reading these books! They teach us so much about our history and the viewpoints they had and why they had them and why we DON’T anymore!”

At St. John’s College, where I went to school, we read the foundational texts of western society. Something many students find odd at first is that in our science classes, we read people whose theories have been completely disproven. We read people who are WRONG. Even as 21st century students who KNOW they are wrong. We know the entire universe does not revolve around the earth. We know, for that matter, that the heavens are not a physical dome that surrounds the earth, on which stars move around just for us. We know that our blood does not sneak from one chamber of the heart to another through pores.

So why do we read those “wrong” texts?

Because without knowing where we came from, we cannot understand where we are.

Read that sentence again.

I cannot appreciate and deeply understand the “correct” facts if I don’t know how we got here. What it’s built on. What we used to believe. And this is important in science, because we’re always learning more. How can we reason our way through new, conflicting theories if we don’t understand the foundation? And that’s what my school focuses on: equipping its students to reason through any argument about any topic. Science, math, literature, philosophy, religion, music…anything.

So “cancel culture” disturbs me at the deepest level. It’s fine not to like a book or idea. It’s great to reason through why and identify where we, and where society, has shifted and changed. To discuss whether those changes are good or bad. This is healthy. This is necessary.

But then tides shift, and those doing the cancelling begin to lose control. What, then, is our response?

All too often throughout human history, our answer is to cancel them right back. “You try to take away my books? Well, take this! I’ll take away yours.” We react exactly like I reacted to Helen Keller. We draw back from the people whose viewpoints don’t exactly align with our own, and we begin to cancel them because of one belief or stance or viewpoint.

Now, there is a lot of nuance to this topic. We cannot read everything. We cannot teach everything. We have to make decisions. And where decisions are made for groups of people, there will be HEATED disagreement. Someone’s going to go away angry, hurt, and feeling victimized. And when it involves our kids? Hoo, boy! Watch out! We’ll be debating this till the end of time, I guarantee it!

So let’s keep it to us. Adults. Christians, even.

What is the godly, Christian response to ideas we don’t agree with? To people who oppose our beliefs? To books that stir up trouble or even hate? Is it to lash out? Strike down? Remove all evidence? Cancel back those who try to cancel us?

I feel like we’re in Ancient Egypt right now, where new pharaohs physically eliminate the evidence of those who came before them. They send out craftsmen with chisels to wipe the very name of their predecessor from any monument.

But then we look at our own Bible. There, for all to see, the writers, inspired by God, memorialize the most heinous of human actions–even actions performed by their own patriarchs. They tell us about incest, rape, and murder. They tell us about prostitutes and adulterers and pagan worshipers. Some stories pass judgment (think of all the times we read “this king acted wickedly in the sight of God”) and other don’t (we never get any indicator of “good” or “bad” in the story of Jacob with his two wives and two concubines). But what we do see are consequences. Consequences of Abraham taking Hagar. Consequences of Jacob having twelve children by four women, all in competition with each other. Consequences of the king given wisdom and riches falling away from God when he takes wives who lead him astray. God still works through and on and in and with them. Thanks be to God!

Hearing and reading those stories is still necessary. Because we have to understand ourselves. Our evil motives as well as our pure. We cannot forget the bad just because it shames us. We cannot remove ideas because we don’t agree with them.

Now, we do have to decide what we promote. What we condone. And again, we’re never all going to agree on that. But even when we teach this thing…we still have to preserve that “other” thing, especially when there are still people who believe it. Especially at certain levels–higher levels. Colleges, universities. Governments. These places, above all, need to preserve. To collect. To explore. To invite reflection. To teach respectful dialogue.

Because when we remove a book…it’s usually not long before we remove the author. When we cancel an idea…it’s usually not long before we cancel the people who hold that idea.

I’m guilty of it. Are you? Is this how God wants us to view each other? His children?

I promise you here and now: we will disagree about something, you and I. Maybe it’s a fine point of faith. Maybe it’s a political view. Maybe it’s got something to do with science or medicine. Maybe it has to do with marriage and divorce. Or abortion. Or whether purple is really the most beautiful color in the world (I mean, duh. 😉 ). Some of our disagreements we’ll laugh over (like colors). Some we’ll be distressed by. All, we can learn from each other about. We can have conversations that aren’t about winning, but about learning.

So I promise you one more thing: I will never cancel you. Even if we agree on nothing, I will not cancel you. I may have to pause, to regroup, like I did with Helen Keller. I may have to pray about my own heart and biases. I may decide that I’ll refrain from certain actions that don’t align with my conscience, even if yours insists it’s great or even necessary. I may even have to step away if “conversation” devolves into “shouting match” and one side or the other is concerned with winning rather than learning. But if so, I’ll do it with respect, and I’ll do it with the hope and prayer that we’ll have another conversation later. Because you are the beloved of the Father. And if Jesus called both a Zealot and a tax collector to His table, I darsay there are both Republicans and Democrats, Conservatives and Liberals, Gay and Straight, Pro-Life and Pro-Choice people there too.

He invites us all. But here’s the thing friends–once there, He calls us all to look at our own hearts. To confess our sins and change the actions that are sinful and displeasing to Him. To love each other, to put aside our differences. To let go of OUR understanding in favor of HIS understanding. We ALL have opinions we need to set down at the foot of the cross. And it takes a lifetime. Probably more, honestly. I imagine we won’t any of us have perfect understanding until we stand before our perfect God and He reveals all to us.

So for now? Let’s default to love, and to looking at our own hearts FIRST. Let’s default not to canceling, but to considering. And let’s never, never make the mistake of dismissing a person because of an idea.