I threw away a book today.
I tossed it in the trash can and shut the door. I don’t want to be tempted to rescue it, no matter how beautiful the cover.
I’ve only thrown away a couple books in my lifetime, but it’s always been done for the same reason.
I couldn’t run the risk of someone I love finding the book and thinking I approved.
Today’s book was one I picked up at a writer’s conference. I trusted the publishing house and the publisher. The guilty will go unnamed here.
I read it all the way home on the plane, with my heart racing and my brain arguing, “Really? I don’t think so.”
It was a fictionalized version of a famous Bible story. I didn’t know the author, but I knew the story well. I thought this book painted an extraordinary picture of the setting and it gave me insight into another time and place. I set it on the shelf when I got home and admired the beautiful cover every time I went up the stairs.
I happened to read some reviews of this book on Amazon recently, and was reminded what my spiritual scruples had screamed about months before. While some people loved the story, many had serious complaints–mostly about the liberties the author took with Biblical canon.
Legitimate complaints, not cranky complaints.
So, my brow furrowed when I went past the beautiful cover. I reminded myself what I had taken away from the story, how it had changed my point of view on current events. That a good enough reason to own a book, right?
But I gave away 400 books in 2013. I didn’t have to own a book that had spiritual problems with it, did I?
If I got rid of it was I becoming a narrow-minded stereotype, rather than an open-minded literary appreciator–a writer in my own right?
How would I feel if someone had a moral objection to one of my books and threw it away? Click to Tweet
How would you feel?
If I had rewritten a Biblical narrative in such a way as to undermine someone’s faith, would I mind if someone threw away the book?
Uh, no.
Which brings me back to this morning. I hadn’t read that particular passage of Scripture in some time, but everyone knows the story. Today when I read it, though, visions planted by that novel arose that were not complimentary to the Biblical characters. Some of the novel’s casual facts distorted my understanding of the Scripture.
I knew the novel was wrong, so I set aside my worries.
Reading the Bible and discussing it with God.
As often happens, reading the Bible became a discussion session between me and God. As I read a sentence, I stopped to think about what it meant. I tried to picture what happened. I asked myself if the attitude of my heart reflected the same negativity I saw in this passage. I then asked God to forgive me, to help me change.
I felt much better.
I read a couple more sentences, considered them, saw no application and moved along.
A question arose about who someone was, and I read the notes at the bottom of the page (My friend Gary Warren calls these references, “BOB” for “bottom of the Bible.”). I remembered the slant taken on this issue in the novel.
“What would your grandchildren learn about this passage if they picked up that novel with the beautiful cover and read the story?”
(That assumes, of course, they could read so we’re talking about a future event).
I hate it when a question seems to come in through one ear, cross the front of my brain and disappear out the other while I grapple with the implications.
I appreciate it, too, which means I love it when God speaks to me in such a way.
The answer: they would be confused, the message distorted, and their concept of God harmed.
Homeless woman rummaging through a trash can (Photo credit: Franco Folini)
I went upstairs, paused to admire the beautiful cover, and then I threw away the book.
I retrieved the book from the trash can and placed it in the recycle bin.
Something good, now, can come of it.
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