The following is a paper originally presented on November 2, 2012 at Dordt College for The Christian Evasion of Popular Culture Conference.
This is what I sometimes do. For fun.
This is what I sometimes do. For fun.
Daring to
Address God: Confronting the Negligent Deity in Graphic Literature
by
Mitch
Alfson
The
Christian Evasion of Popular Culture Conference
Dordt
College
Sioux
Center, IA
Nov. 1-3, 2012
Mainstream Christianity and its authoritative institutions usually
maintain an antagonistic relationship with popular culture.
Christianity's responses, typically, are either to evade or condemn
instances of pop culture. When the pop culture touches on religious
issues, condemnation is the dominate approach. The exceptions to this
pattern are the media pandered directly to a Christian audience,
which Christians unflinchingly embrace as much as they unflinchingly
disregard other media without any critical examination.
Barry Taylor addresses this rise, or perhaps return, of the
religious in popular culture in his book Entertainment Theology:
New-Edge Spirituality in a Digital Democracy.
He defines the titular concept of entertainment theology as “simply
ideas about God that emerge outside of previously legitimized
environments and structures of mediation.”1
Movies, television, novels, and graphic literature all explore
religious and theological ideas without the oversight of traditional
religious authorities. While these authorities may worry about such
unfiltered theological discourse and advise Christians avoid it, they
need to realize that people are talking about God, and more and more
they are doing it outside of the church.
Religious topics in popular culture
is not a new concept, though. Brennan Manning wrote, “Troubadours
have always been more important and influential than theologians and
bishops.”2
Most people far more easily remember a catchy lyric or intriguing
story plot than the dry words of a preacher or writings of a
theologian. As popular culture moved away from the reigns of the
church, it became more unrestrained and profane. However, in this
postmodern world, creators infuse this irreverent pop culture with
deep theological contemplation. “The binary oppositions of sacred
versus profane that attended modernity no longer suffice,” says
Taylor.3
Indeed, popular culture has become
the prevailing language for both religious and non-religious
discussion. How many pastors frequently utilize scenes from movies or
television shows as anecdotal illustrations in their ministry? People
speak pop culture, and they increasingly speak it with little to no
distinction between sacred and profane. Again, Taylor opines that pop
culture is the language of the world and entertainment theology is
how the world speaks of God. “Everything is being filtered through
the media spectrum, everything is entertainment, in that it comes to
us via interactive technology and media outlets, whether from a
bookstore or from the World Wide Web. Theology, 'God-talk,' as
Phyllis Tickle so aptly puts it, is taking place alongside all the
other issues of life, in the mediated environment of a globally
connected society.”4
Graphic literature, more popularly
known as comic books or graphic novels, forms a small part of popular
culture, albeit with increasing influence, that frequently addresses
theological concepts in such a way that Christianity cannot afford to
ignore for much longer. While it may appear as a niche medium,
graphic literature is helping shape the larger pop cultural
landscape, including pop culture's approach to religion. Following
the popularity of books exploring philosophical themes in works of
popular culture, authors have begun exploring the spiritual side of
comic books and have recently published books with titles like The
Gospel According to Superheroes,
Holy Superheroes! Exploring the Sacred in Comics, Graphic
Novels, and Film, Our
Gods Wear Spandex, and Who
Needs a Superhero? Finding Virtue, Vice, and What's Holy in Comics.
Noticeably, all these titles focus on the superhero genre. For many
people, especially those with only a cursory familiarity with graphic
literature, the superhero genre presents the whole of the graphic
literature medium. While superheroes are the most prominent and
public face of the medium, a variety of other literary genres inhabit
the graphic landscape.
Superhero stories do frequently address religious themes, with
interpretations of Superman as a messianic figure providing a primary
example. In a way, though, the popularity of superheroes limits them.
They are owned by well established publishing companies which are in
turn owned by multinational conglomerates like Warner Bros or Disney.
Often popular superheroes are a brand to be marketed and sold rather
than characters with which to tell compelling, even dangerous,
stories. Few stories are more dangerous than religious stories.
Independent or less popularly mainstream titles in graphic
literature can possess the freedom to engage in more sensitive
topics. Compared to many other forms of popular entertainment, the
direct audience for graphic literature is small. Non-superhero
graphic literature holds an even smaller audience and can more easily
fit through the cracks of censorship, both in terms of obscenity and
respecting religious sensitivities.
But the offensiveness of the
content of popular culture should not dissuade Christians from
engaging it. Barry Taylor writes, “If we place too much emphasis on
refuting the content, we might miss the opportunity to engage with
and address those who are obviously seeking to put some kind of
framework, however vague, on 'the divine.'”5
Graphic literature is talking about the divine, sometimes with great
excitement and enthusiasm. Though it may often exhibit a negative
view of God, the medium still enthusiastically speaks of God and to
God. Instead of seeing this as an attempt to lead the sheep astray or
an outright attack on their faith, Christians should view it as an
opportunity to talk about God with these creators and readers and
engage in an equally enthusiastic discussion about the divine.
Possibly the most frequent theological theme in graphic literature,
and perhaps in all of popular culture, lies with the problem of evil
and suffering. Superheroes often deal with evil, but they typically
stop the evil and right the wrongs. In more independent,
non-superhero stories, Superman cannot come and save the day.
Instead, the only one that can provide rescue is God, but often, just
like in the real world, he does not. Or, at least it appears that he
does not.
The problem of evil arises from the
beliefs that God is all good and all powerful. If God possesses both
these attributes, then how can evil exist in the world? One of the
harsh facts of life is that evil does exist and it must be
acknowledged. Daniel L. Migliore writes, “As that which opposes the
will of God and distorts the good creation, evil is neither illusion
nor mere appearance nor a gradually disappearing force in the world.
All theories that deny the reality of evil or minimize its power have
been exposed as fantastic and worthless by the horrors of late
modernity.”6
Instead of denying evil, one feels
compelled to accept it, but try to explain how or why God would allow
the presence of such evil. The usual cliché Christian answers to
this problem fall along the lines of explaining it all as part of the
bigger picture or for the greater good. These unhelpful answers can
be considered as explaining God's possibly questionable behavior when
it comes to the presence of evil. In response to these suggestions,
David Burrell retorts, “And what could be more pretentious than
attempting to 'justify the ways of God to us,' as the venture of
theodicy has classically been described?”7
Christians tend to point to the Old
Testament book of Job as a biblical answer to the problem of evil.
Burrell says otherwise in Deconstructing Theodicy: Why Job
Has Nothing to Say to the Puzzle of Suffering.
Burrell argues that the point of Job is not to find the answers to
Job's suffering, but Job's insistence on addressing God directly
about the situation. While his friends offer plenty of reasons for
his hardship, Job refuses to relent until God agrees to confront him.
“Job is commended in the end,” says Burrell, “because he dared
to address the creator-God; his interlocutors are castigated for
purporting to speak knowingly about that One.”8
Likewise, overly certain church answers to suffering prove
unsatisfying. Yet to demand a direct confrontation with God sounds
hostile, irreverent, and even blasphemous. Maybe it is, but it also
sounds honest. This honest and potentially antagonistic course is the
route taken up in many instances of popular culture and particularly
in graphic literature.
Will Eisner was one of the great
pioneers in the graphic literature medium. In 1976 he published a
work which many remember as coining the now popular term “graphic
novel.” His book, A Contract with God,
was a collection of several short stories told in graphic form. The
first story, providing the book's title, followed the story of a
devout Jewish man named Frimme Hersh. Hersh strives to faithfully
fulfill all his requirements to his covenant with the Divine. Despite
all of his piety, tragedy still falls upon Hersh and his young
daughter suddenly dies.
Though a well standing member of
his religious community, the grieving father does not seek comfort
from his elders or teachers. Instead, one night Frimme dares to
confront God. In a dramatic image, the grieving man, illuminated by
flashes of lighting in a driving thunderstorm, shouts to the Lord,
“If God requires that men honor their agreements...then is not GOD,
ALSO, so obligated??”9
Hersh feels that he has fulfilled all his obligations, but with the
death of his daughter it is God who is in breach of their contract.
This certainly sounds like a damning indictment of the Divine, yet
even in its blasphemy it feels like a far more honest engagement with
God than simply and complacently accepting the idea that the death of
his daughter is for the greater good.
This incident harkens back to
Burrell's view of Job. If Hersh is in a covenant with God, then he
should be able to speak candidly to God about this tragedy. “Indeed,”
says Burrell of Job, “precisely because he sees himself standing in
a relationship, however unequal, he does not hesitate to address God
directly.” He then quotes from the tenth chapter of Job, “'Do not
condemn me; let me know why you contend against me...Your hands
fashioned and made me; and now you turn and destroy me.'”10
The story of Frimme Hersh takes on
new, deeper meaning when one learns of Will Eisner's inspiration for
writing the story. Eisner's own young daughter died from leukemia
eight years before the story was printed. The writer identified
closely with Frimme Hersh and said, “his anguish was mine. His
argument with God was also mine. I exorcised my rage at a deity that
I believed violated my faith and deprived my lovely 16-year-old child
of her life at the very flowering of it.”11
Some men might write theology or hymns or poems to express their
feelings about and towards God. Will Eisner wrote a graphic novel, a
pop cultural testament revered to this day.
Like Eisner, and like Job, Hersh
never really receives a satisfying answer for why such suffering
occurred in his life. But according to Burrell that's not the point
of the story of Job or the point of such a reaction to the problem of
evil. “Speaking about
something veers toward explaining,” says Burrell, “while speaking
to someone can engage
both in a relationship of exchange open to yet other forms of
understanding. Indeed, what is most telling, structurally, in the
book of Job is that the creator-God does answer Job's extended
complaints. Yet those looking for an explanation will find themselves
scrutinizing what the
voice from the whirlwind says, while the dynamic of the unfolding
relationship should lead us to what is most startling of all: that
God responded to him.”12
Another prominent piece of graphic literature also dealt with a
man's ardent quest to confront God. Beginning in 1995, Preacher
ran 66 issues before wrapping up its main storyline. The brainchild
of writer Garth Ennis and artist Steve Dillon, Preacher
follows the story of a disillusioned preacher named Jesse Custer who
seeks to literally find God and hold him accountable for all of his
actions and inactions.
If the angry response to God in A
Contract with God borders on
blasphemous, Preacher
unquestionably and gleefully dives into a sea of perverse sacrilege
and irreverence. Jesse Custer finds himself possessed by a
supernatural entity called Genesis, a being so powerful that even
Almighty God is afraid of it. As a result of this threat, God
abandons heaven and is hiding somewhere on Earth. Custer takes it
upon himself to hunt down God and hold him accountable for deserting
his creation. Says Custer, “You know what? I'm gonna go lookin' for
him. I don't care how long it takes or where I have to go. I'm gonna
find him. An' I'm gonna make him tell his people what he's done.”13
Mike Grimshaw, in his essay “On
Preacher (Or, the
Death of God in Pictures),” summarizes, “The religious core of
Preacher is the theme
of humanity abandoned by God.”14
Both in this specific instance of God fleeing Genesis, as well as the
fallen state of the world in general, this graphic work presents God
as absent at best and willfully negligent at worst. A plethora of
colorful villains populate Preacher,
but God reigns as the ultimate villain of the story, the worst
offender against humanity. “I'm lookin' for the Lord,” explains
Custer, “'cause I figure he's deserted his creation. I aim to bring
him to book for that little transgression: to confront him and hear
his answer to that charge. He has a obligation to do right by the
world he's made an' the folks he's peopled it with. He quits an'
runs, he ain't facin' up to his responsibilities.”15
“In Preacher,”
says Grimshaw, “Ennis suggests that horror, leakage, disruption,
and suffering occur because God has abandoned his responsibilities.
The horror occurs not because of God's existence (or otherwise), but
rather because of the willful inaction of God.”16
Over the course of 66 issues Jesse Custer and his companions
embark on wild, ridiculous adventures in their quest to find God and
hold him accountable for these horrors. In a climactic encounter, the
preacher finally catches up to God and lodges his complaint against
him. “The creation cannot make demands of its creator...!”
objects God. Custer passionately replies, “Then
the creator shouldn't piss on his creation.”17
This confrontational response to God stands in contrast to the
typically sanitized views of God Christians hold that develop into
theodicies.
Perhaps such unquestioned
complacency towards God is more irreverent than any blasphemous
statements Jesse Custer directly addresses him with. David Burrell
suggests that for the book of Job, “...its primary function in the
Hebrew canon may well be to correct 'mechanical' readings of the
Deuteronomy that remain heedless of the graceful divine initiative
the covenant embodies. Here, of course, the target is not theologians
so much as religious leaders, epitomized in Job's companions, who
invariably attempt to channel God's generous initiative into
manageable patterns.”18
In the face of tragedy, Christians, like Job's friends, tend to toe
the line and insist it is all part of God's plan which they can
somehow perceive and understand. Job, like popular culture, concedes
the situation does not make sense and seeks to address God directly,
pleading and even demanding for some sort of response.
Popular culture grants an outlet for the questions and ideas nearly
all have, but many feel inappropriate to express in traditional
arenas of religious discourse. In pop culture religious ideas are
presented without being subjected to and stifled by the etiquette of
the church. Sometimes we have to come to a place of extreme
irreverence, even blasphemy, before we'll dare talk to God as if he's
actually there. In moments of anger and rage, like those expressed by
Frimme Hersh and Jesse Custer, we witness how loss of fear and
trepidation of upsetting or offending God enables approach with
unfiltered honesty. The so-called “blasphemies” of popular
culture are perhaps the most honest prayers heard by Heaven.
The question inevitably arises
about the relevance or significance of stories produced in a
relatively obscure medium. Many Christians have probably never heard
of Preacher. Grimshaw
states that “while Preacher
may be relatively unknown to scholars inside the academy, it is big
news to those on the outside.”19
Preacher stands as an
important work of modern graphic literature, and in recent years such
influential graphic works have found ways to reach much larger
audiences.
While the primary audience for
graphic literature may not seem large, the audience for adaptations
of graphic literature properties is unquestionably huge. The summer
of 2012 alone showed the masses are eager for exposure to the
superheroric adventures of the Avengers, Batman, and Spider-Man. The
Avengers grossed 1.5 billion
dollars worldwide at the box office, emerging as the third highest
grossing movie of all time.20
While comic book movies mostly come from the superhero genre, their
success makes cinematic adaptations of some of the more independent,
theologically minded graphic works imaginable. Christianity would be
far better off to engage the themes in graphic literature like A
Contract with God and Preacher
on the printed page before they reach the silver screen, a mass
audience, and evasion becomes no longer possible.
1Barry
Taylor, Entertainment Theology: New-Edge Spirituality in a
Digital Democracy (Grand
Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008), 104.
2Brennan
Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled,
Beat-Up, and Burnt Out
(Colorado Springs: Multnomah Books, 1990), 96.
3Taylor,
103.
4Taylor,
86.
5Taylor,
1958.
6Daniel
L. Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding:An Introduction to
Christian Theology (Grand
Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991), 118.
7David
Burrell, Deconstructing Theodicy: Why Job Has Nothing to Say to
the Puzzle of Suffering (Grand
Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2008), 13
8Burrell,
123.
9Will
Eisner, The Contract with God Trilogy, (New York: W.W.
Norton, 2006), 25.
10Burrell,
31.
11Eisner,
xvi.
12Burrell,
124.
13Garth
Ennis and Steve Dillon, Preacher #4 (DC Comics, Jul. 1995),
15.
14Mike
Grimshaw, “On Preacher
(Or, the Death of God in Pictures),” in Graven
Images:Religion in Comic Books and Graphic Novels,
ed. A. David Lewis and Christine Hoff Kraemer, 149-165 (New York:
Continuum, 2010), 153.
15Garth
Ennis and Steve Dillon, Preacher #5 (DC Comics, Aug. 1995),
19.
16Grimshaw,
159.
17Garth
Ennis and Steve Dillon, Preacher #49 (DC Comics, May 1999),
11.
18Burrell,
126.
19Grimshaw,
150.
20“Marvel's
The Avengers,” Box Office Mojo,
http://boxofficemojo.com/movies/?id=avengers11.htm (accessed October
10, 2012).
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