I grew up during the Cold War. MAD: Mutually Assured Destruction—many times over—by nuclear holocaust was the constant threat.

As the Cuban missile crisis unfolded in 1962, my Dad sat down with me at the dining table. On a piece of paper he drew the outline of Florida, then Cuba, and explained that only one hundred miles separated us from the Communists, the same distance between where we lived and where my grandparents lived. Then, he placed nuclear missiles on the island of Cuba aimed at the United States and explained the conclusion of civilization. I was six-years old.

As a child of the Cold War, my classmates and I practiced taking cover under our school desks in the event the Russians bombed us. Given the stockpile of MAD, and my Dad’s explanation of nuclear annihilation, I never bought the notion my desk would save me, but I figured it was a better option than standing at the window.

When I was in Junior High School, ages 13-15, the church youth director was delivering prepared remarks on the importance of memorizing Scripture. His major rationale was that the Communists could invade America at any time, take us prisoners, take away our Bibles, “…and if you haven’t memorized Scripture, there you will be: in prison, tortured for your faith, with no Scripture for comfort.”

On cue, two dozen men from the church burst through the door dressed in fatigues, faces covered, carrying batons and bats, yelling and screaming, pointing, ordering, surrounding my friends and me. They confiscated our Bibles, roughed up the guys a bit, and divided us up into small groups they could guard more easily.

Once the drama played out, the youth director signaled and the men of the church left. The youth director continued his sermon about Scripture memorization.

In retrospect, the tactic didn’t help my memorization, but I still remember the point of the sermon. The Cold War is over now, but the news reports our Navy is sailing in the South China Sea in a show of force to the nuclear-armed Chinese who launched airborne sorties to intimidate our carrier group.

As I write, I’ve crawled under my desk. This could be my last article. If I get nuked and you survive, will you please feed my dog?

No, in retrospect my youth director meant well even if the tactic was misguided, but the experience did cause me to think as I consider the news of late. There are a number of concerning issues in the world, but none more troubling than what we now call the “cancel culture.”

If we don’t like you or what you say, we cancel you.

If your skin is white, you’re cancelled. Male? Cancelled. Believe the election was fraudulent? Cancelled.

Rosalyn Carter, Hillary Clinton, Laura Bush, and Michele Obama, all former First Ladies, cancelled Melania Trump from their group. It smacks of a thirteen-year-old girls’ sleepover instead of the most elite and noble-minded group of women in the world.  

If you are a Christian, you are a bigot and a racist. The internet was alive last week with a picture of Lady Gaga looking down on Vice President Pence as he handed her a golden microphone. According to the cancel police, she looked down on him with condescension because of his Christianity and LGBTQ+ rights. Of course, she was standing on a box so we could see her sing the national anthem—which the master of ceremonies asked everyone to stand for. I’m glad it was only the presidential inauguration and not a football game.

As I’ve written, the mainstream media, with a great debt of thanks to the “research” of Robert P. Jones, subscribes to the belief that racism started inside the white, evangelical church and is sustained to this day by the same institution.

“Well, that’s not true,” you say.

It is if they—someone other than you—want it to be true and declare it to be true. You just got cancelled. Next?

The Progressives in Congress have introduced legislation to help combat domestic terrorism in the wake of the January 6th breach of the Capitol. The notable oversight in the proposed legislation is that “domestic terrorist” is not defined. George Bernard Shaw expanded on Aristotle’s observation that nature abhors a vacuum. “Whenever people do not know the truth, they fill the gaps with conjecture.”

Democratic Representative Schneider links domestic terrorism directly to White Supremacy. Former Democratic Congresswoman, Tulsi Gabbard, wonders if Christians, evangelical Christians, pro-life people, and folks who attended a Trump rally are domestic terrorists. Last week, Congress worried that the National Guard was infected with domestic terrorists and called for a vetting of members.

As an evangelical, white, older, Christian, male, who lives in [sort of close to] the South and whose blog posts are filled with Christian rationale, I’m clearly on the short list of political dissidents.

I have two thoughts.

First, verbal defense and legal defense to prove I’m not a dissident is futile in a cancel culture. I worked in the Communist East Bloc for too long to think otherwise. Given this, I can choose fear or I can choose courage.

I choose courage.

Where does courage come from? There better be more substance within my backbone than bravado.

I wrote earlier, as a follower of Jesus Christ I am endowed with confidence anchored in the fact that I am set apart, safe, and secure. God establishes this, not my backbone. Courage. Nothing comes into my life except it first passes through my heavenly Father and my Older Brother. When anything comes to me, it finds me filled with the spirit of Christ. That makes me safe. If I’m safe, it is easy to be filled with courage.

Second, say whatever you want about me. Make stuff up. My friends overseas who’ve undergone trials for their faith had all sorts of crap attributed to them. No matter what they said in defense, it didn’t matter. The rule of law no longer existed and objectivity was whatever others declared it to be.

What’s the consolation in these circumstances?

I reflect again upon the wisdom of Dr. King: “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”

The “content of their character.”

Hillary Clinton referred to those who voted Trump in 2016 as deplorable. Senator Cruz referred to Seth Rogan as a moron. Mr. Rogan responded that Senator Cruz is a fascist piece of s***. Now we’re getting somewhere.  

My “Progressive” friends who are atheists and agnostics despise Christians. They utterly hate born-again Christians. (Why these people are my friends is a post for another day.) The point is, no matter what you say in your explanation or defense as a Christian, that is not good enough.

One of my Facebook friends disagrees with just about everything I write. In her derision, she caustically refers to me as “Mr. Christian” and that she’s sending one of her employees to “whip my stupid a** if I don’t shut up.” It’s the classic argumentum ad hominem. But, look on the bright side: By cancelling me, she avoids thinking about what I write.

A few years ago, I met an agnostic who would eventually become a wonderful friend. Shortly after we met, he pinned me into a linguistic corner. The only answer I could give was, “Yes, I am an ordained, Southern Baptist minister.”

He looked me square in the eye and said, “My God! You’re my worst nightmare.”

He and I had many conversations, over many drinks, over many years. It wasn’t what I said to him that changed his mind about me as a Christian. Rather, it was the content of my character.

There’s a simple term for what I’m writing about: mutual respect.

Maybe this cancel culture will blow over. Maybe they won’t come for you. After all, the Cold War ended. May be the Chinese will be content to stay in China and make stuff made in China.

Who knows?

I will say this, if the Russians or the Chinese come to Texas, they need to carry some other gun than their AK-47s. Beto O’Rourke has promised to take away everyone’s AKs. But, someone with a good address should write Chairman Xi and tell him about Beto.

Words have meaning. Threats can be hollow. Or not.

Will the half who thinks me a domestic terrorist come for me?

I don’t know, but that’s not the point of this article.

The point is, all of this has caused me to reflect and take inventory. Maybe my youth director did me a service all these years later. If half the American population can be cancelled, I can be cancelled.

Do I have the resources—the internal resources—to manage such an event? You never know until it is upon you. But as Corrie Ten Boom observed, God doesn’t give you what you need until it’s time.

And in such a turn of events, the culture will say whatever suits them. Reasoning with group-think is futile. What matters, to me anyway, is what’s inside me. What is the content of my character?

God transformed me when I decided to follow Jesus Christ. He made me a new man, endowed me with a new heart, and created in me a desire to walk with Him. As I trust Him, discuss matters with Him, and contemplate the teaching of Scripture, something forms in me that is Christ-like. That is the content of my character, the stuff Dr. King spoke about.

The culture will cancel me as suits them. There will be no due process, no presumption of innocence, no rule of law. No presentation of evidence or jury of my peers. If the United States House of Representatives will impeach the President of the United States without due process under the law, then it will be easy enough to cancel an old white man who is a Christian and made himself inconvenient.

But that’s not the point, neither is it what I contemplate.

I’m focused on what I know Father God has said is true about me: I’m set apart, safe, and secure. As long as I embrace this each day, moment-by-moment, then I’m confident that should I encounter duress, the content of my character will be refined.

But should the Chinese show up, even if I’m cancelled, I hope whoever is in charge doesn’t turn off my internet. It will be interesting to see how Beto takes their AK-47s and manages them. I’m thinking he might need a second pickup truck. It will be a sight to behold, for sure.

Until then, keep your wits about you.