Jesus as Anti-Hero

Superman had a single weakness. Kryptonite could bring him down. He was eternally good; kind, caring, sympathetic, strong, masculine, etc. Superman was a hero. My grandfather and father read the comics. They received their notion of what a hero was from the man of steel. Of course, He had many imitators. There were many heroes for their generations. Hundreds of men (and a handful of women) who were heroes. Who were essentially infallible, minus one small flaw.

In the earlier portion of the 20th century the Christian faith had few qualms with tweaking Jesus here and there to make him more Superman-like. By this point, Jesus already glowed in the pictures. The scene of Him overturning the money-changers' tables in the temple became more prevalent. We sing cheesy up-tempo lyrics "Jesus is my super-hero" without a hint of sarcasm or shame. And, of course, Jesus is the savior of the world ... so this shouldn't be a problem.

If you're watching TV or reading books today, you'll see something a little different. Our superstars play anti-heroes. The biggest shows center on highly-conflicted protagonists.

Dexter is a serial-killer who only kills other serial killers. You find yourself rooting for him, hoping that the kill is clean and that he doesn't get caught. True Blood is filled with anti-heroes. People that you love and hope for, but people who are also conflicted. Almost every popular show touches on this phenomenon. Characters are no longer all-loving heroes. It's no longer black and white. Everything is gray.

Christians who lived through the 1950s still cling to the black-and-white world that Superman dominated. But what is left for those of us who have grown up in the gray?

When Jesus arrived on the scene, the people felt that they finally had their Messiah. But Jesus had a major flaw in the eyes of the people. Jesus refused to give the people what they wanted. They wanted a strong political and military leader - and Jesus, who would have been more than capable of such a feat, absolutely refused.

He squandered opportunities to incite uprisings. He disbanded crowds when they got too large. He healed miraculously, but he didn't heal those whom the people wished that he would. He healed poor beggars, women, children, racial-misfits, and even the young lover-boy of a Roman centurion - one more victim of the enemies rule - because of the Roman guard's "great faith!" He never found His Lois Lane. When he had his chance to ride in on a white stallion and make His declaration, he chose a young donkey instead.

Jesus was not Super-man. This is most shocking because Jesus could have been. As fully God, Jesus could have used the full weight of His divinity in any number of ways (and the devil tried to get him to do it...) but Jesus refused the role of Superman. Jesus chose the role of Anti-Hero.

He lived in dark shadows, ate with sinners, talked with the untouchables, and loved to the point of death without receiving love in return.



Christianity hangs in the balance. The church is dissolving because Superhero Jesus is failing to deliver, and my generation is turning it's back because we simply don't believe (or really want to believe) in superhero stories anymore. We want a savior, fully God and fully man.

And, oddly enough, that's exactly how the Gospel narrative has read all along.