Cancel Culture and Christ's Love
- Liesl Parks
- Oct 22, 2020
- 4 min read

My kids have recently been asking me a lot about my childhood. Their favorite question being, “What bad things did you do when you were a kid?” It makes me chuckle every time and yet I hesitate for a millisecond before I tell them a story. I’m hesitant because I don’t want to witness real-time replications of my fiascos, but I’m also eager to share some of my mistakes with them for learning purposes. I’m always sure to include stern warnings of avoidance at the end of each story. Some of these childhood shenanigans include, but are not limited to: making prank calls; tying my younger sister up in a sheet like a sack of potatoes, and with the help of my brother bouncing her in a ball on our trampoline; and catching horned lizards in my grandparent’s yard, hiding them between slices of bread and offering the “sandwich” to unsuspecting victims.
Though my childhood pranks and mistakes are laughable compared to other mistakes I’ve made throughout my lifetime, the stories could have easily made my children repulse in horror instead of laugh. I suspect that all of us could share stories with our friends and family that would make them disappointed, shocked or angry, and even second-guess their love for us.
On a grand scale, this is what we are seeing happen in popular culture today. But often, people’s past mistakes aren’t voluntarily divulged. For many public figures, the nitty gritty details of their pasts are rooted out and dragged through the mud for all to see and judge.
In previous decades we most commonly associated the word hypocrite with churchgoers. Today, however, we see many examples of hypocrisy in popular culture. We hear public figures tout mantras such as “Be kind to one another,” yet they are reportedly anything but kind to their employees. We see politicians and pop artists alike speak out against oppression, but many of these same people are later discovered to have abused victims in the past, or even the present.
It’s no wonder the wave of opinions rolling across the country and the world on social media platforms so quickly condemns and “cancels” such individuals. Public opinion is cut-throat and leaves no margin for error. Ties are severed and previous fans become the harshest of judges and jury. What is it about human nature that hypocritically demands justice for others but expects grace and mercy for oneself?
Most of us are no-names. We might boast a few hundred or possibly a few thousand followers on our social media platforms, and our influence in general is far less profound. Should musicians, actors, politicians, and anyone in the public eye be held to higher standards? Is it fair that their verdicts are doled out overnight? They vie for our attention, benefiting financially, emotionally and socially from our support. The cost of their fame seems to come in the form of less privacy and higher stakes for mistakes. Certainly, they should be held accountable for wrong doings. How grateful I am that I have not, nor will I ever have the pressures of public life smothering me. What an unbearable weight that most public figures are eventually crushed under.
I am thankful that I haven’t ever been “canceled” by my children, spouse or friends when I disclose my past and present short-comings. But more than anything, I am eternally grateful for a Savior who not only accepts me and extends grace to me, but also uses my past mistakes to glorify Himself. It is redemption in its truest form and is the antithesis of cancel culture. Christ’s love is countercultural; it does not make sense. Romans 5:8 says that “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” We were in the mucky middle of sinning when Christ died for us. He didn’t ex-communicate us or shame us for our sin. He died for us.
An artist was featured on the PBS Kids channel recently. (Because let’s be honest, most of my analogies come from kids’ books and shows these days, being a mostly stay-at-home mom.) The artist’s specialty was finding junk—scrap metal, plastic, shards of glass and pottery—cleaning and repurposing them in order to construct life-size sculptures out of them. His work is displayed for many to enjoy, and his pieces are sold at a high price. He said about his art, “My favorite thing to do is take junk that nobody wants and make it beautiful; to form it into something people will want.” Is there any better example of what Christ does with us? He redeems and repurposes our worthless pasts for HIS purpose.
The story of Rahab in Joshua 2 is a poignant example of Christ’s love and redemption. Hebrews 11:31 says, “By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient, because she had given a friendly welcome to the spies.” Rahab’s past of prostitution was overshadowed by her present obedience to God. She was impressed to help God’s servants and was eternally blessed for it. God grafted her into Christ’s lineage—she was the great, great, great (and many more greats) grandmother of Jesus.
The apostle Paul tells us in Romans 8:37-39 that “In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” And Psalm 103 verses 10-12 reminds us of God’s mercy and kindness for those who turn to Him. “He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.” Let’s ask God to give us wisdom while living in this cancel-culture and extending grace to others. But most of all, let us be ever thankful for His redemptive love that never cancels us.
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