My father, H. Richard Copeland, attended Austin Theological Seminary in the late 1940’s.  He was fond of telling stories about the seminary’s president at the time, Dr. Robert Gribble.  Dr. Gribble was an Old School Presbyterian and zealous guardian of Calvinist orthodoxy.  He was also keen to keep up appearances.  According to my dad, Dr. Gribble was aware that his wife’s love of dancing bordered on the scandalous – at least in the minds of the most frigid among the Chosen Frozen – and he took pains to keep other signs of impropriety from public knowledge. 

My parents were in the lobby of an Austin movie theater to see a “picture show” (which in itself was a tad risky) when they spotted Dr. Gribble enter the lobby and approach the Coke machine.  He surreptitiously removed a brown paper bag from his pocket, inserted a nickel in the slot, and pulled the lever on the machine.  Out came a glass-bottled Coca-Cola.  Dr. Gribble quickly shoved the bottle into the paper bag and stuck the bag into the pocket of his jacket. As he turned toward the exit, he spotted my mom and dad.  Blushing deeply, he shook his head in disgust and said, “My wife will drink these things,” and hurried through the door.

But that’s not the Dr. Gribble story I meant to tell.  The one that’s on my mind is about the time Dad was in the seminary library reading a book of contemporary theology.  He turned the page to discover a note scribbled in the margin by none other than the seminary’s president. “Stop!” Dr. Gribble had written, “Read no further! This is heresy!”   

Dr. Gribble no doubt had the best of intentions.  He didn’t want future pastors to be infected by unorthodox theology and contaminate the congregations they would one day serve.  His censorship was meant as pastoral care.

Florida’s governor and recently-declared presidential candidate Ron DeSantis couches his efforts at mind control in similar terms.  By limiting what teachers of young children might say to their students about sex or gender identity he is protecting them from the virus of “wokeism.”  His anti-viral protections have been extended to students in middle school, where it is now a violation of state law for school employees to refer to students using pronouns that do not correspond to the student’s sex. 

For Gov. DeSantis and his like-minded colleagues, the best way to handle difficult topics such as homosexuality and transgender identity is not to handle them at all.  Just pretend that they don’t exist – that third graders can’t come from a home with two moms instead of a mom and dad, or that eighth graders can’t feel out of place in their own bodies.  

Granted, these are challenging subjects about which people can disagree, and teachers have plenty on their plates without having to serve as culture-war referees.  Still, the goal of education should be to broaden the mind, not constrict it.  

This approach to education reminds me of the days before the Civil War when states in the South banned books and newspapers that contained abolitionist ideas. The best way to maintain the status quo is to protect people from dangerous ideas. I imagine most forms of censorship can be couched in pastoral terms.

It’s unlikely a student in Florida schools will open a library book to discover a handwritten warning to read no further.  These days it’s a good bet that book was removed from the school library long ago. 

• Thoughts from a Winter Beach
• A.I. Preaches Incarnation
• Tough Call
• Read no further . . .
• The Shadow Side of the Sunshine State