ideaExchange Transcript 2.19.05
Jesus as Superhero:
Why spandex sells better than sackcloth and ashes
- Kalyn Falk 2.19.05
When I was growing up, I was transfixed by Superheroes like Superman,
Wonder Woman and the perhaps not heroic but certainly superhuman
Charlie's Angels. What I liked about them was how shiny and competent
they were. No matter how desperate the situation, they would always be
able to save the good guys and let the bad guys receive their just
desserts. It was comforting to watch these shows because you knew it
would all work out in the end and, no matter how perilous things seemed
for the hero, they would emerge unscarred without a hair out of place.
So when I started hearing about Jesus saving me, I assumed that he
would fit into the same sort of paradigm, maybe King of the
Superheroes. I might fall out of a burning building, but if I were
"Jesus' girl," like a Christian Lois Lane, he would catch me and
never let me get hurt. It made me feel special and it seemed exciting.
I got caught up in the world of shiny super Christians who "did good
in the world and helped overcome evil". As my story came to include
my youngest son's diagnosis of autism, my own depression and sense of
dislocation within the Christian community, family chaos and a general
sense of things going not the way I planned, I realized that my
understanding of Jesus was inadequate.
My premise is that, perhaps without realizing it, a large part of the
North American church has imagined Jesus similarly as a kind of
superhero. I worry about how this affects our theology and our
understanding of what it means to be a disciple.
The superhero Jesus acts as a kind of lucky penny: if I say the name of
Jesus the right way, my problems will all disappear. Or, if my life is
going horribly awry, I'll call on Jesus to save me and take care of
everything. But here's our problem: bad things do happen, even to
people who call on Jesus' name the proper way. This then leads us to
question why God is letting bad things happen to us and we can quickly
get stuck in a rut of self-pity. It also makes it less likely to take
responsibility for our own actions or to find the path that leads
toward life.
Consider Spiderman as an example. New York was a violent city before
anyone heard of Spiderman. People accepted that reality and lived
accordingly. There were probably a number of ways that were used to
address it. People would have locks on their doors; governments would
be planning programs to make streets safer. Ultimately, the situation
was recognized as a human problem that required human effort. But when
Spiderman came onto the scene, people came to expect him to save them
and turned against him when he didn't. Let me be clear that this
analogy is useful in looking at crowd behavior - at people's
responses - and isn't meant to compare Jesus to Spiderman. To do
that paints a picture of Jesus as a reluctant hero who is in effect
subject to both his special powers and his audience.
To cast Jesus as Superhero not only allows us to relinquish our
responsibility for our own life, it strangely also encourages us to
take responsibility for other people. As disciples, we feel called to
save other people from their circumstances, just as we hope Jesus will
do for us. A brilliant example of this double-edged dynamic is from the
movie "Saved". A girl discovers that her boyfriend is gay and comes
to believe that God has called her to sleep with him to cure him of his
homosexuality. You can see the train wreck coming. She gets pregnant,
he comes out anyway and she becomes disillusioned. To continue the
cycle, her friends arrange a prayer rally for the boy's healing and
attempt to save the girl in a drive-by exorcism. Throughout these
scenes, there is no room for ambiguity, compassion or dialogue. The
assumption is that the main characters need saving, and they're going
to get it whether they've asked for it or not.
This idea of salvation objectifies both hero and victim - both are
defined by function. I think that this has something to do with some
people's reaction to the film, The Passion of the Christ. I haven't
seen the movie myself, but I've heard from several people that they
were moved by the level of suffering that Jesus endured. I think this
view leads to a substitutionary view of atonement. Through the lens of
functionality, it makes sense that Jesus had to suffer more than anyone
else. It becomes a payoff - the more he suffers the more we owe him.
The resulting view of discipleship leads to a focus on external
behaviors and obligation.
Fundamentally, this whole view requires separation - the focus is on
Jesus' otherness. We've probably all seen the popular painting of
Jesus - white robe, nicely combed hair, the only white guy in Jewish
circles. He can't be portrayed as having bushy hair, a sense of humor
or a need to go to the bathroom. It's as if we don't want to
acknowledge his sameness, some fear that to acknowledge that will bring
us to a place of responsibility. He needs to be special, to be
superhuman, to be the bridge part of the diagram of the four spiritual
laws. If there's more to it than that, we will have to enter a darker
picture that involves ambiguity, mystery and suffering.
The danger of ending with the nicely scrubbed superhuman Jesus is that
it easily leads us to believe that the work is done. Jesus the
Superhero saves the world and ends our quest. Our journey of faith ends
at conversion.
If we instead embrace Jesus' sameness, a new paradigm opens up. A
presumption of separateness is replaced by integration and
relationship. In emphasizing sameness, however, I'm not trying to
discount Jesus' divinity. Just that the "fully human" part
can't be glossed over or "made pretty". My basic understanding is
that Jesus came to earth to teach us how to be human not to lead us to
believe that we may be invulnerable.
If we see Jesus as the in breaking of the new age of God's shalom, we
see from both his life and death a model for our lives. Instead of a
Superhero, we find Jesus the Pilgrim, walking into this new age and
showing us how to live and be. Rather than ending our quest, Jesus
leads us to a deeper reality. Our hunger for righteousness and yearning
for connection are not quenched; they are intensified. Jesus teaches us
to live in ambiguity, in vulnerability and in openness to God. This is
not a model of behavior or law; it is one of trust and of walking in
step with the Spirit.
Discipleship is about developing the traits necessary to sustain the
quest and live in openness and vulnerability. Looking at Jesus' life,
particularly at his temptation in the desert, offers a portrait of a
constant opening to God.
The story tells us that the devil tempted Jesus three times: to change
stones to bread, to worship the devil and be given the authority to
rule all the kingdoms of the world, and to throw himself from the
temple. In iconic terms, the first temptation dealt not only with
immediate hunger, but also security. Jesus would be able to meet his
own physical needs; there would be no need to pray for daily bread.
This temptation also echoes back to the Israelites' exile and
provision of manna. The ongoing miraculous sustenance did not build
their faith or open their hearts, and Jesus recognizes the need for
something deeper that will sustain him.
The second temptation has to do with power and hierarchy. The devil
uses the phrase "I will give their glory and all this authority,"
(Luke 4:6) indicating that it's not simply control that he's
willing to give, but prestige as well. This arrangement could also give
Jesus the opportunity to bless the kingdoms as well. I am reminded of
the scene in The Fellowship of the Ring where Galadriel is tempted to
take the ring of power. She assures herself that she would wield it
wisely and that it would benefit all before acknowledging that it would
also eventually destroy her. Though Jesus was tempted to claim his
kingship in a way that most people were expecting, he dismisses the
devil with a focus on single-minded worship.
His final temptation was about being extraordinary and invincible. By
now, the devil is wise to Jesus' tendency of quoting Scripture and he
uses his own reference to Scripture to make his appeal. This temptation
is one of death-defying spectacle and recklessness. Jesus would never
need to feel pain or face death. Jesus' response is succinct and
final. His temptation in the desert ends.
This section reveals Jesus' call. By rejecting the bread, Jesus
remains hungry and reliant on God. By not worshipping Satan, he gives
up hierarchical power and demonstrates his servant heart and devotion
to God. The third temptation reveals Jesus' choice to be vulnerable
and open to suffering. It also reveals the things that the devil
acknowledges are effective at blocking the work of the Sprit and the
building up of God's kingdom: security, control, and certainty.
Another tool of the devil also becomes evident; all of his suggestions
are quick fixes. They require no patience. This in itself teaches much
about discipleship.
Echoes of this story come through Jesus' entire ministry. Luke
4:14-30 shows Jesus moving into great popularity, declaring his purpose
on earth and then being rejected by the crowd. The temptation to be the
superhero the crowd wants him to be is again overcome by God's will,
which blesses the weak and oppressed. Another example of this cycle
begins in Luke 19:35-38. The triumphal entry is a pivotal piece of
history. The Israelites were waiting for the Messiah: the king who
would restore Israel. However, Jesus rode on a donkey instead of a
warhorse, proclaiming a different understanding of the kingdom of God.
The entry echoes the temptation of Jesus; go in political power or
choose the servant path. Another example is found on the cross. The
crowd tempting him to choose invincibility over death in Luke 23:35 is
an obvious echo of the third temptation. Jesus responds by committing
his spirit into God's hands. And in an inverse of the first
temptation, Jesus turns himself to bread at the Last Supper. Behold who
you are. Become what you receive. Embrace the mystery.
In contemporary society, it is clear that we live with the same
temptations. Our patience is easily eroded as we accustom ourselves to
instant gratification. On a physical level, we have become obsessed
with eating, especially falling prey to the promise of eating whatever
we want while still losing weight. Our hunger for gratification is
tempted on a number of levels.
Self-reliance is admired. We worship a minority of people who have more
wealth than some small countries. We give power to the beautiful and
listen to their advice on decorating, fashion, lifestyle and politics.
We create the illusion of invincibility by staving off death and aging
at any cost. How can we, like Jesus, resist the temptation of society?
Rather than waiting for a Superhero to save us from reality, I believe
we are called to embrace reality. We are fragile and vulnerable. We are
in need of grace. Instead of hoping that Jesus will take us away from
pain, we are called to rest in God's hand.
But before going on, I have to tell you about my week. I was down with
a sore throat and cold for most of the week. On Friday morning, I went
to a meeting regarding Noah's transition into school and discovered
that we would not receive the funding we had requested. Friday evening,
we got back from a concert to find our front door had been pried open
and many of our belongings stolen. This week, I wanted a Superhero to
take me out of reality. I didn't want to be reminded that I'm
vulnerable. I wanted to clutch my magic penny and wish away all of the
complications of my life. After all, I had this paper on suffering to
write and didn't need the hassle of real life getting in the way.
Really what I wanted was a god I can control who will protect me from
suffering. It's this kind of mentality leaves me as part of the crowd
on Palm Sunday, still hoping for the Messiah to show up to fulfill my
own agenda and definitions. In that light, Jesus as Pilgrim is a
disappointment.
I used to be so confused about how the crowd who was ready to
"Celebrate Jesus" on Palm Sunday moved so quickly to the mob
yelling, "crucify him" less than a week later. Jesus resisted the
temptation to be a Superhero and when someone refuses to play the role
they've been given, people react. In conflict resolution terms, the
greater the perceived gap between our expectations and our experience,
the greater likelihood for conflict, anger and violence. This is called
relative deprivation. The important part of this equation, then, is not
so much our experience, but our expectations of what our experience
should be. Our work, then, is to let go of our expectations of Christ
coming to save us from our circumstances and instead allow ourselves to
be pulled toward the center of our reality, which is to be pulled into
the love of God.
I want to illustrate this point with a story from John. Jesus came to
the disciples ready to give a gift; he wanted to wash their feet. Peter
objected. First, he refused Jesus' actions. As Jesus explained the
blessing of this gift, Peter then demanded that Jesus wash his head and
hands too. He still needed to control what was going on. Finally, he
relinquished control and received the gift that was offered. The model
Jesus gives is one of service and humility. Not to objectify one
another or to control or manipulate each other, but to serve one
another in love. We have a choice too. We can clutch our magic penny
and refuse to accept reality. We can try to direct our lives and the
lives of others to make us feel in control. Or we can open our hands to
receive: to invite God and others into the reality of our lives. Thanks
be to God.
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