On the Futility of Banning Books

EIGHTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Amos 7:7-15

Psalm 85:8-13

Ephesians 1:3-14

Mark 6:14-29

Prayer of the Day: O God, from you come all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just works. Give to us, your servants, that peace which the world cannot give, that our hearts may be set to obey your commandments; and also that we, being defended from the fear of our enemies, may live in peace and quietness, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Then Amaziah, the priest of Bethel, sent to King Jeroboam of Israel, saying, ‘Amos has conspired against you in the very center of the house of Israel; the land is not able to bear all his words.” Amos 7:10.

The most valuable gift bestowed upon me by my public education was a love for and appreciation of books. In the eighth grade I read Tolstoy’s War and Peace, Melville’s Moby Dick and Dickens’ Great Expectations. In high school I was introduced to John Steinbeck in The Red Pony, Of Mice and Men, Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden. His books have continued to entertain, nurture and challenge me throughout my lifetime. For reasons I still do not fully understand, I got placed in high school honors humanities where I read 1984 and Animal Farm, by George Orwell, Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein. The Hobbit was on the reading list and it got me hooked on Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings Trilogy. At every stage of my educational sojourn, I had teachers who encouraged me read beyond the established curriculum and I did. One particularly formative book for me was Jan de Hartog’s Peaceable Kingdom, a lengthy historical novel I found in the high school library that followed the lives of actual and fictional leaders and followers of the Society of Friends, otherwise known as the Quakers, in both England and in the United States. I found this saga so compelling that I considered converting for a time.

These books literally made me. They introduced me to the mysteries of human nature. They taught me the virtues of courage, integrity and faithfulness. Through the exercise of imagination, these authors and their stories helped me explore the potential for both good and evil that come of human ambition. They taught me about the corrupting influence of wealth and power, the opportunities for good and the temptation to abuse that comes with leadership. Books introduced me to the mysteries of science and the promise/threat of technology. I do not know where or even who I would be without these and so many other books that shaped my understanding and character.

It is not lost on me that many of these books are being removed from school curricula and libraries these days for various reasons. The Tolkien books have been attacked by some religious groups for promoting witchcraft. Many of the other books mentioned above have been removed because they contain “explicit sexual material.” Also under fire are more recent books in the young adult genre dealing with the struggles and triumphs of LGBTQ+ youth. Perhaps most distressing is the removal of books that delve into historical and contemporary systemic racism in America and its continuing effects. Recently, the American Library Association‘s (ALA) Office for Intellectual Freedom released preliminary data that reports 695 attempts to censor library materials and services and challenges to 1,915 unique books. That represents a 20% increase over 2022, which reached the highest number of book challenges since ALA began compiling the data more than 20 years ago. PEN America also tracked school book bans specifically and found 3,362 book bans affecting 1,557 unique titles during the 2022-23 school year, an increase of 33% from the 2021-22 school year. The removal of these books from schools and libraries is supposedly being done “to protect our children.”[1]    

There is no getting around the fact that books are dangerous to the status quo. They always have been. Books awaken our imagination and challenge us to think differently about ourselves and our world. They force us to question what we have been taught and whether the way things are is the way they must be. Nothing is quite so terrifying to a tyrant as a child with a book. That is why every tyrannical regime has attempted to control books and their publication. Books were routinely burned in Hitler’s Germany and in Stalin’s Russia. They are scrutinized and banned when deemed contrary to the reigning dogma of theocratic regimes like Iran. That we are seeing the same thing beginning to take place here in the United States should be a cause of concern, if not outright alarm.

Before books were put into writing, Amaziah, the priest of Bethel in Israel, understood their power. He reported to the king of Israel that the “land was not able to bear” all the words of the prophet Amos. The prophet’s witness to a God who demanded justice for the poor and despised religion glorifying the king and “his” sanctuary was a threat too dangerous to ignore. And so Amaziah did what book banners are doing today. He banished Amos, exiled him, took away his green card and sent him packing. Out of sight, out of mind. But words of truth and justice are not so easily dispatched. The mere presence of the Book of Amos the prophet in the Hebrew Scriptures illustrates the futility of seeking to ban literature. Amaziah’s attempt to silence Amos did not work. Censorship never does. Amos’ words live on. But have you ever heard of the Book of Amaziah the priest of Bethel?

Behind all the energy expended on removing books from our schools and libraries lies a deep seated fear of change on the part of those who see a very comfortable status quo and the privileges it affords them slipping away. I guess the theory is that if we can keep children from finding out about racial inequities, the complexities of gender identity, the toxic effects of sexism on our girls and boys, the hard realities of social class distinctions and the growing disparity in wealth between the rich and the working class, then all these uncomfortable realities will simply go away and everything will stay the same. In fact, however, censorship does not erase uncomfortable truths. It only robs our children of the information, ideas and conceptual tools they need to think deeply and creatively about addressing them.    

Disciples of Jesus must be on the side of authors, teachers and librarians. We believe, as St. Augustine taught us, that truth has an independent existence grounded in God our Creator. It cannot be erased. Consequently, we have nothing to fear from books-even those we deem wrong, misguided and inaccurate. As one colleague of mine puts it, “I read all the books that are being banned today and all I ever got from it was smarter.” The best defense against books we deem wrong or dangerous is not censorship, but good books or, rather, minds formed and grounded in truth through the reading of good books. The truth needs our witness, not our defense.

Here is a poem by Margurite Engle about books, censorship and its ultimate futility.

Tula [“Books are door-shaped”]

Books are door-shaped

portals

carrying me

across oceans

and centuries,

helping me feel

less alone.

But my mother believes

that girls who read too much

are unladylike

and ugly,

so my father’s books are locked

in a clear glass cabinet. I gaze

at enticing covers

and mysterious titles,

but I am rarely permitted

to touch

the enchantment

of words.

Poems.

Stories.

Plays.

All are forbidden.

Girls are not supposed to think,

but as soon as my eager mind

begins to race, free thoughts

rush in

to replace

the trapped ones.

I imagine distant times

and faraway places.

Ghosts.

Vampires.

Ancient warriors.

Fantasy moves into

the tangled maze

of lonely confusion.

Secretly, I open

an invisible book in my mind,

and I step

through its magical door-shape

into a universe

of dangerous villains

and breathtaking heroes.

Many of the heroes are men

and boys, but some are girls

so tall

strong

and clever

that they rescue other children

from monsters.

Source: The Lightning Dreamer, Margarita Engle (C. 2013 by Margarita Engle: pub. by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt). Margarita Engle (b.1951) is a Cuban American poet. She is also the author of many books for children and young adults. Engle was born and raised in California, but she spent many summers with her extended family in Cuba. She earned a B.S. from California State Polytechnic University in 1974 and an M.S. from Iowa State University in 1977. Engle became the first Latino awarded a Newbery Honor in 2009. She was selected by the Poetry Foundation to serve as the sixth Young People’s Poet Laureate from 2017-2019. On October 9, 2018, Margarita Engle was announced the winner of the 2019 NSK Neustadt Prize for Children’s Literature. Most of Engle’s stories are written in verse and are a reflect her Cuban heritage and her love of nature. You can read more about Margarita Engle and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.


[1] I am not suggesting that care should not be taken to ensure books recommended to children are age appropriate. There are some books containing language, images and topics inappropriate for very young children. In this regard, I find it amusing that many of the same folks who want to remove books they view as offensive from our schools are also advocating teaching the Bible in the class room. That leads me to wonder whether these folks have ever read the Bible. Do they know that the Bible contains stories of gang rape, mutilation, incest and sexual imagery bordering on the pornographic? (See Judges 19:1-30; Genesis 19:30-38; Ezekiel 23:1-21). For this reason, I have often questioned the protestant custom of handing out Bibles to children as though they were benign peppermints. For more on that, see The Bible: Handle With Care & Keep Out of the Reach of Children.

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