Remembrance Sunday: Operation Restore Sanity

Part 1

When it comes to Remembrance Sunday, the Church of England has a big advantage. With its liturgy, its pre-set prayers, maybe a bit of Scout involvement, the old timer in uniform reading today’s Bible lesson, a nice bit of pageantry – you can quite easily get through the entire Sunday without ever actually talking about what we are doing. I, however, do not have the luxury anymore of avoiding it.

The first world war had an enduring impact as it marked a level of violence previously unexperienced. It crushed an optimistic belief that the 20th century would be a time of progress: onwards and upwards. Colossal events of this nature cannot help but be politicised. They are naturally hijacked by one group or another to further one agenda or another. Following the end of WWI, Armistice Day was thought of on very different terms than when compared to today. It was about the Christian valour of British soldiers bringing militarism to a close, dying not in vain, but ushering in a new era free of war. Great derision was always levelled at those who expressed a belief in the futility of the war; the establishment, both church and state, furthered a narrative of sacrifice for a higher purpose. I wonder now, in retrospect, what was the higher purpose of that war. There has been no end to war, the military machine has not been reigned in. In 1930 the parliamentary Peace Committee asked if the name of the 11th November service could be changed to the ‘peace and memorial service’.  ‘Unthinkable!’ cried the war office official. ‘We get more recruits for the army in the fortnight after the Armistice ceremony than at any other time of the year.’ Now why is that? There has historically been an undeniable, unspoken even, blurring between the respecting of the dead, nationalism, and the glorification of war, a romantic view of war. We are now asked not to question why people died, but to simply accept that it was worth it, and that when the time comes it will be worth it again. Remembrance Day is used to perpetuate a myth that war is inevitable, however regrettable, and sometimes necessary. Today then, as I stand here wearing my red poppy, I want to call us back to the lofty hopes of those British soldiers returning home after fighting on the Western front. Let these blood red poppies be a reminder not of war’s glory, but of war’s futility. Let us strive to match their efforts, not for war, but to bring about peace, love, and a more just world.

Part 2

Batman fighting baddies. 

Batman fighting baddies. 

You know things are about to get serious when I start talking about superheroes. Let’s think about Batman for a minute, I promise it is very relevant. Who is Batman? He is a fictional character obviously. He has two identities, as many superheroes do. By day he is the businessman, philanthropist, billionaire, and womaniser, Bruce Wayne. By night, he is the Dark Knight, the caped warrior, bringing vigilante justice to the underbelly of Gotham City. A billionaire who solves his problems with violence; solves his problems by violently oppressing the most down-trodden within society - I wonder if that reminds us of anyone? Another person who in his own way is larger than life, not with big ears, but big hair! Although admittedly, somewhat less cool, and more orange. The character of Batman conforms to a recurring literary theme – The Myth of Redemptive Violence.

Carl Jung

Carl Jung

This notion of recurring myths, characters, tropes, and images which emerge within history and society over and over, is the Jungian idea emerging forth from our collective unconscious. Jung’s technical term is ‘archetypes’. The Myth of Redemptive Violence is one such ‘archetype’: ideas which just keep coming back again and again. Other examples are the wise old woman, or the hero, or creation, or the devil, the scapegoat, good vs evil, the quest, the magic weapon. And so on… Ideas which emerge independently in disconnected cultures and religions since the dawn of humanity. Because these ideas are somehow in us already – that’s the idea. The Myth of Redemptive Violence is the idea that violence is an efficient way to solve problems, or bring about prosperity. And note: I’m using the word ‘violence’ in broad terms, not simply the inflicting of physical pain on others, but oppressing, or limiting freedom, or limiting movement, or denying rights. This type of violence can often be worse than the physical kind. So, The Myth of Redemptive Violence: this archetypical theory was developed by the theologian, the late Walter Wink. It’s a story the dominant in society tell their subordinates. It enshrines the belief that violence saves, that war brings peace, the might makes right. It’s a narrative structure found all over the place – in the Bible, in cartoons, in computer games, in films. There is a central character, a hero; he suffers, he seems hopelessly doomed, until miraculously the hero breaks free, vanishes the villains, and restores order. It perpetuates an idea of natural chaos, that humanity is incapable of peaceful coexistence, and therefore, order must continuously be imposed from on high: men over women, master over slave, rulers over the people.

It is the divine duty of the dominant to subdue any who would threaten tranquillity. The Myth of Redemptive Violence is the story of order bringing victories over chaos, by whatever violent means necessary. The violent means are justified in the end. So we, look at these fictional heroes: Batman, the Jedi, James Bond, Popeye, and so on, and knowing they are good, they are on the side of the good, we identify with them, which in psychological terms allows us to project our darker selves, our repressed anger, our violence, on the bad guys. And through taking it out on them, we are, as it were, cleansed, or saved. Saved through violence. This happens in fiction as I have said, but it also happens in organised sport, in nationalism, in the media, in militarism. This becomes the lens through which we see the world – we always locate evil not within us, but out there in the other, in the Mexican, or the woman, or the Muslim, and we are affirmed in our own goodness when they are beaten, repressed, driven from our land. They are scapegoated for the wrong in our world, and the god of order is glorified.

Batman & Superman

Batman & Superman

This week the Myth of Redemptive Violence, in all its vulgar stupidity, had a very significant victory. Jesus calls us to turn the other cheek, to go the extra mile, to resist evil in the most challenging way of all, by not becoming evil. By not responding to violence with violence, in the broad sense. By not becoming the Dark Knight, or the caped warrior; that is not the way of Jesus. You have heard it said, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, but I say to you, do not resist evil violently. Do not mirror evil. Do not let your opponent dictate the terms of your opposition. Resist evil in non-violent ways. Through dialogue, through discussion, through substantive debate - something we’re seeing very little of at the moment. And so, this morning, we affirm peace. We deny the Myth of Redemptive Violence its ascendancy. We wear our symbolic poppies as the reminders of peace they were meant to be, and we strive after a message of hope. Hope is not idealistic or silly. It is not naive to believe we can bend the arc of history towards justice. Because it’s been done before. And it will be done again.

Amen.

Son of Krypton: Let Thy Kingdom Come

Reading: 'Kingdom Come' (Comic Book) By Mark Waid & Alex Ross

Part 1

Superman by Alex Ross

Superman by Alex Ross

I’m going to start this morning in America, prior to the American Civil War, with the religious group the Universalists. As most of you will know, the Universalist Church believed in universal salvation, believed the love of God was greater than any sin we human beings were capable of committing. In other words they believed that everyone would go to heaven, whether they were little Hitlers or little Gandhis.

The doctrine of Universal Salvation by its very nature frees people up a lot. What you believe or what you think matters far less, if your underlying assumption is that everyone is going to the same place. To Heaven. The Universalist Hosea Ballou summed it up best when he said ‘If we agree in love, there is no disagreement that can do us any injury, but if we do not [agree in love], no other agreement can do us any good. Let us endeavour to keep the unity of the spirit in the bonds of peace.’

The Universalist Denomination was growing and flourishing. And then there was the American Civil War. The American Civil War was unbelievably bloody. More Americans died in the Civil War than died in WW1, WW2, and Vietnam put together. After such a horrific war, believing everyone was going to heaven was a difficult pill to swallow. As a result there was a shift towards more conservative theological perspectives: a desire in the face of the horrors of war to see cosmic Justice.

Clear cut answers to questions are naturally more desirable when the world around us feels more chaotic. We want that anchor to hold on to, when everything else is up in the air. In times like this people desire a God who feels more present, is more tangible and practical, a God that they can relate to more easily.

Part 2

So what does any of this have to do with Superman? To explain this I have to take you back to Superman’s first appearance in June 1938 – to the Action Comic book Issue #1.

As you will all probably know, Superman is a culmination of many figures; he is in some ways Sampson from the Bible, Hercules from Greek mythology, Tarzan, the innocent who doesn’t know his own strength, and of course, Jesus, the Son of God, the Saviour of humanity.

Rev 15:1 "And I saw another sign in heaven, great and marvelous, seven angels..." Art by Alex Ross

Rev 15:1 "And I saw another sign in heaven, great and marvelous, seven angels..." Art by Alex Ross

Superman’s parallels with Jesus are implicitly and explicitly made throughout the comic books almost from day one. He is sent from his father Jor-El, as Jesus was sent from his father in Christian mythology. Superman has two natures, two identities: Clark Kent, the more human, quaint side, and Superman, the more divine, Godlike side, again like Jesus does in classic Christian mythology. The Christ, and the historical Jesus. The man and the God.

Throughout the comic books and films, this imagery is repeatedly played upon. Superman arrives on earth in a star, as Jesus’s birth is heralded by a star. Jesus and Superman share a mission to help humanity. And Superman in a few notable stories even dies, and rises again; rises again as a symbol of hope for humanity.

Superman in 1938 was ground breaking. Never before had there been a comic book solely devoted to one character. Over the next two years there was an explosion of superhero popularity in the United States. By the end of 1939 there were 50 comic book titles; a year later there were 150. It was a booming industry.

And then World War 2 broke out in Europe. Throughout the war superheroes remained popular, but by the end there had been a cultural shift. Superheros were largely replaced by romance comic books, teenage adventures, westerns, crime and horror stories. These American mythologies weren’t working for people anymore. People wanted the literature they read to be more true to life, more down to earth, more gritty.

In a weird way I think the decline of the superheroes after World War 2, and the decline of the Universalist Denomination after the American civil war have some close parallels. When the world feels more threatening, we can no longer abide the lofty idealism of a God that will put everything right in the end, or a flying hero that can do anything. We have accepted the hard reality of the world and we want that to be reflected in what we read.

Part 3

Kingdom Come is in some ways a retelling of the book of Revelation; much of the imagery is drawn straight out of that last book in the Bible. The book of Revelation is a book with such obscure and extravagant imagery, it has throughout history been interpreted in many ways.

Some believe its symbolic language is describing events which were unfolding in the time it was written, in the first century. Some believe the book contains future prophecies of how the end times will come about. And some believe it is an allegory of the spiritual path and the on-going struggle between good and evil. It is this final sense that the comic book writers are drawing upon, painting in the process their own allegory, their own mythology of this on-going struggle. The central point of Kingdom Come is the moral dilemma it frames. How can the righteous defeat the wicked without becoming the wicked?

Wonder Woman wants to bring the hammer down hard upon those unethical metahumans, but Superman cannot bring himself to agree with this. He is ever the Christ-like figure; he refuses to use deadly force. As we prayed Let thy Kingdom Come, the prayer of Jesus, we seek and hope for a world in which love, peace, and human dignity, can overcome the more trite concerns of money, or image, or respectability. But as much as we might hope and yearn for such a world, we are always dragged back into the now, into the gritty reality we are faced with.

Unable then to live out the pure ethics, the lofty ethics, the Kingdom, unable to fully realise Jesus’ way of love, we are forced to reconsider our ethics, to find an ethic which strives after the way of love but is compatible with this world now.

This comic book – which many consider the greatest comic book ever written - could not have been written in the that pre-WW2 golden age. At that time the superheroes were one dimensional, indestructible champions of the good. Like Jesus, like the Universalists, they represented a lofty, unachievable, unworldly optimism, which just doesn’t seem to square with what’s around us.

We need the paradoxes, the moral dilemma, the character complexity, because that is the world we know. That is what makes sense. We cannot be bought off with cheap answers, or shallow theology. At the end of the comic book the heroes, the justice league, becomes fully integrated into society - and I mean fully, it is the end of the heroic age. The finale of finales.

In this new age we see the coming together of all people, the human and metahuman becoming one. It’s not a magical new world, or a quick fix, but there is a hope in what is to come. And that really is the bottom line, as we reject the false narratives, which act more like cotton wool across our eyes, or holographic decks of imagined pasts, and confront the reality of now. We must guard against cynicism. And embrace the hope found in our coming together.

Amen.