Responses to Questions III

This past Sunday, July 22nd, I facilitated the "Questions & Responses" service we have annually in the congregation I serve.  Congregants write questions on index cards, which are then collected, and to which I offer my in-the-moment responses.  Over the next several weeks I plan to devote this page to attempts to offer written responses.  If you'd like to see the entire list of questions asked, they're the bulk of my post-Sunday post on July 23rd.

For the most part I expect my responses to the questions I was able to play with on Sunday to be very similar to what I said them.  (Although I reserve the right to have changed my mind in the meantime!)  There are also several questions that were asked more than once (in slightly different ways).  I'll group them together here.  (And I'd remind readers that these are only my responses, and my responses today, at that.)

You love superheroes.  What is a superhero with a particularly spiritual lesson?

I've just started reading what promises to be a fascinating book, The Caped Crusade:  Batman and the Rise of Nerd Culture, by Glenn Weldon.  (Simon & Schuster, 2017).  I heard about the book when an article appeared on my newsfeed titled, "Meet the Professor Who's Going to Teach a College Course All About Batman."  In that interview, the professor, Steven Levya of the University of Baltimore, talked about how Weldon's book had really inspired him to develop the course.  Part of Weldon's premise is that, besides being a human with no extraordinary super power, the Batman is also different from his heroic colleagues in at least one other way -- over the years he has changed.

Superman, for instance, over his more than 70 year run has always been basically Superman, "the Big Blue Schoolboy."  His personality, his way of being in the world has been pretty constant.  So too, let;s say, Spider Man, who has been almost invariably angst-ridden.  Batman, on the other hand, has been depicted in numerous ways, from the campy portrayal of Adam West in the TV show of the 1960s, to the quasi-fascist of Frank Miller's seminal (and truly awesome) The Dark Night Returns.  He has been unshakably self-assured, and neurotic as all get out.  And to a large extent, the various version of the Caped Crusader can be seen as reflecting the zeitgeist of the times.

Yet the many moods of the Batman can also be viewed as a mirror we can hold up to ourselves, for we're also filled with more than one version of ourselves.  As Whitman famously wrote, "Do I contradict myself?  Very well then, I contradict myself.  I am large, I contain multitudes."  So the Batman shows us a hero with no special powers (except, perhaps, his fortune), who is able to overcome virtually any obstacle placed in this path, even while expressing a panoply of possible selves, a person who, like us, "contains multitudes."



How do we prepare for August 12th?

This is a hard one, because each of us had our own experiences of last August 12th which we'll be bringing to this August 12th.  And none of us know exactly what is going to happen -- there are no planned events like the "Unite the Right" rally, yet it is virtually certain that there will be some kind of hate-fueled presence.  It is likely that there'll be more than one "spontaneous" action popping up without (at least much) warning.  So ... how do we prepare when we're not really sure what we're preparing for?

I'd say that one think we can do is double down on whatever it is that connects us to "that inner place of peace" and that outer experience of connection to others and to all that is.  Call it Love, call it Community, call it The Interconnected Web of All Existence -- call it God, if you wish -- yet what we call it is not as important as being intentional about feeding ourselves with it.  For love to conquer hate we must do all that we can to be in touch ourselves with that Love ("known by many names yet by no name fully known").

It's also really important to remember that we are always stronger together than we are alone.  There a whole lot of people throughout Charlottesville who are also trying to figure out how best to prepare for this date -- both the way it will bring up memories of the past, and whatever may happen this year.  The Charlottesville Clergy Collective is offering a number of events leading up to, and on, August 12th.  (We have them listed on our website.)  There's also the #resilientcville website, the city's effort to inform people of the constructive things being planned.  Congregate Charlottesville, a group that began as a subset of the Clergy Collective membership and which favors nonviolent direct action, has also been making plans for the 12th of August.  Each of these, all of these resources offer ways to connect with, and be with, others both as that anniversary approaches, and on the day(s) itself.

Our congregation is going to be proactively organized than we knew to be last year.  We will be asking people who plan to participate in one or more of the events to let our leadership know so that we can spread the word -- "There'll be a group of UUs meeting at such-and-such a time, in such-and-such a place.  Contact so-and-so for more information."  This way folks can know that they do not participate alone, even in the midst of a crowd.

One last thought -- it may take a long time, it may not seem as though it is true, but love is always stronger than hate.  Always.


Pax tecum,

RevWik

It's the little things ...

It's no secret that I love comic books -- the Batman, especially, and other DC characters, but Marvel heroes as well.  I've collected a pretty large number of them now, but I'm not one of those collectors who seal them away in plastic and never take them out unless wearing gloves so as not to leave any oil on them.  Well, I mean, I do have them in plastic, but I open them up all the time and take them out of their protective sleeves.  I like to read comic books.  I like the stories.  

There's a four-issue run of JLA (#50-54) that's part of the larger, "Divided We Fall" story arc.  In this tale, the characters who make up that iteration of the Justice League  -- Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, the Flash, Green Lantern, and Aquaman -- are each split into both their superhero identities and their alter egos.  So there's a Batman and a Bruce Wayne; a Clark Kent and a Superman.  Only Wonder Woman and Aquaman are unaffected, since at that time neither had a "secret identity."

While an interesting premise, it's where this story goes that so interesting (and cool!).  Who is the Batman without Bruce Wayne's anger and grief?  Who is Superman without the tempering influence of the so-very human Clark Kent?  Bruce Wayne becomes consumed with rage he can't process or direct; the Batman becomes ineffectual because there's nothing really driving him.  Superman becomes cold and brutal because he is nothing but a Kryptonian, while Clark Kent becomes frozen in fear.  Throughout these books the notion of identity is explored, and the need for not just these heroes but for all of us to learn to integrate the different, sometimes contradictory, aspects of ourselves.

I could name other story-lines that offer a great deal more than impossibly proportioned women and men in tights duking it out.  I'll give just one more example.  The Amazing Spider-man # 36 came out in the wake of 9/11.  The entire story consists of Spider-man's inner monologue as he responds to the horrors of that day.  It remains one of the most poignant and moving essays I've ever read on the subject.  "The sane world will always be vulnerable to madmen, because we cannot go where they go to conceive of such things."

One of the things I really love about comic books, though, is the character development which at least some authors bring to their story telling.  If you have years of history with, for instance, the Justice League, or even just with a single character, you're rewarded with little details, seemingly throw-away elements, that can speak volumes for people who are really listening.  In one Batman story line, Jim Gordon, the Batman's friend and ally on the Gotham City Police Force, has been seriously injured.  The Batman and his loyal butler Alfred are in the hospital room, and the Batman says, with vehemence, "Jim will pull through."  "Or what, Master Bruce?" Alfred replies.  "You'll dress up like a bat and haunt the night for the rest of your life?"  In the next panel the two just stubbornly stare at each other.  Volumes about the (albeit fictional) history of these two men are revealed in this little exchange.

There's another such moment when the Batman, Superman, and Catwoman have been given a hard time (to put it mildly) by the super-villain Poison Ivy.  Catwoman knocks her out and Supermans asks, "Was that really necessary?"  In the next panel Catwoman and the Batman look at each other, silently, and then they both turn back to Superman and say in unison, "Yes."

Each of these seemingly insignificant exchanges might seem at first glance to be mere "filler."  I would think that this would be especially so for the casual reader, who doesn't have all of the background that's embedded in these moments.The Batman and Superman have always represented two different approaches to this superheroing business, and each has at times critiqued the other for their way of doing things.  All of this is contained in Superman's question.  Catwoman and Poison Ivy have been both opponents and partners at various times, and the hell Ivy had just put Catwoman through, and her sense of betrayal, is part of that punch.  And, of course, the Batman and Catwoman have had an on-again, off-again relationship, a  ... complicated ... relationship, which is beautifully depicted in that look and their unison response.

I'll mention two more.  (Not so much because I think I really need to give more examples, but because I love these so much!)  There's a story line in the Justice League in which the team is battling "white martians."  (Just go with it.)  Wonder Woman has taken the one she's fighting, Primaid, up into the stratosphere until the martian passes out from lack of air.  As she returns to earth, she says, "Can't believe how long she held her breath up there."  Green Lantern asks, "So how long can you hold your breath?"  "Obviously longer than Primaid."  Wonder Woman replies.  And then she adds, "What a strange question.  Why should anyone know how long they can hold their breath?"  Meanwhile, the Batman comes into the scene, pulling the martians he's defeated, and he just jumps into the others' conversation, saying, "Three minutes, fifteen seconds.  You'd be surprised why."

By far my favorite of these little, character moments comes in the last book of the incredible series Kingdom Come by Mark Waid and Jim Lee.  (Trust me, if you read only one comic in your lifetime, let it be this one.  The story is wonderful, and the artwork is amazing.  Seriously.   Trust me.  Read this ... and then read Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns.)

Anyway ... the story takes place in the future.  I won't spoil the story, but let's just say that there's world-threatening hell breaking out, and Superman flies into the Batcave, desperate for Batman's help.  Batman refuses, and begins to explain to Superman why.  When he's done with his speech he turns around and realizes that Superman had left, unnoticed.   (Something Batman is known for doing, much to people's consternation.)  The Batman returns to what he was doing, with a little smile on his face, saying to himself, "So that's what that feels like ..."

Great, right?

But why have I devoted an arguably overlong post to all of this?  Two reasons.  The first is that I really love this little moments and ... well ... wanted to share them.  And since I can't invite everyone over to my house to sit on the floor and read comics, this post will have to do!

The real reason, though, is that our lives are made up of such moments.  Oh, there are large dramas and full-on dance numbers from time to time.  Occasionally our lives require green screen or a team of stunt doubles.  Most of the time, though, it'a these little moments, things that others might not even notice, that matter most.  And like these moments in the comics, it takes some knowledge of the backstory, of the history, the context in which they happen, that gives these little details such emotional power.  Yet even for those who are living these lives, whose life experiences are the context, such little moments are nonetheless all too easily overlooked, far to easily disregarded as merely "filler" between The Really Important Things.

If we miss these moments, though, we miss our lives.  It's that simple.  So keep your eyes, and your ears, and your hearts open, my friends.  And when you become aware of being in one of these moments, in your own life or in the lives of those you love, take delight.  Paying attention to things like these is a little like knowing how long you can hold your breath.  You'd be surprised at how important it can be.

Pax tecum,

RevWik

What About Robin?

This past week I preached a sermon about heroes as a means of exploring issues of identity.  On Wednesday I posted a reflection on a comment someone made as they left that service, "How many identities does the Joker have?"  Somebody else that morning made a request:  "Next time talk about Robin."

Of course, as my fellow comic nerds will tell you, that's not such an easy thing to do.  First, you'd have to decide which Robin you're going to talk about.  Dick Grayson, the first of the Robins?  Jason Todd, the one who got killed by the Joker?  (Actually, he was killed by-a phone in vote in which readers were asked if he should live or die -- he lost.)  What about Tim Drake, who actually figured out the Batman's secret identity, and who was temporarily replaced by Stephanie Brown?  Damien Wayne, Bruce Wayne's son with Talia al Ghul?  Duke Thomas, who becomes Robin five years or so after current continuity?  What about Carrie Kelly, the Robin of Frank Miller's seminal The Dark Night Returns?  (Which, as an aside, my good friend Jimbo gave me years ago and which reignited my childhood fascination with comic book heroes.  Yes, this is all Jimbo's fault!)  There are others in other iterations of the DC comics universe(s), but that's probably enough links for now.  Suffice it to say, there have been a lot of Robins, so to talk about Robin we need to know who we're talking about.

It gets even more complicated when we consider that some of these Robins have also been other costumed heroes.  Dick Grayson becomes Nightwing.  Jason Todd becomes Red Hood (and a few others).  (Yes, I know, I'd said he'd died.  Not, apparently, such a final thing in the comics!)  Tim Drake becomes Red Robin.  And if this weren't enough to scramble your brain cells, there have been different versions of the DC multiverse that contain different stories for these characters.  The combinations are virtually endless.

All that said, though, I think that this is much more than that parishioner wanted to know.  I think she was saying, "What about the dark and brooding Batman having a young and bright sidekick?"A good question and one which, as with so many other things, the comics have explored over the years.  In his fabulously interesting -- and fun! -- book Batman and Psychology:  a dark and stormy knight, Professor of Psychology Travis Langley devotes a chapter to the question of "Why Robin?"  He demonstrates that, whether the comics' authors were aware of it or not, the various Robins actually show traits appropriate for their "birth order" and psychosocial stage at the time they joined the Caped Crusader's crusade.

He also addresses the charge, originally made in 1954 by Dr. Fredric Wertham, that Bruce Wayne and his ward Dick Grayson are gay.  (He never actually said this straight out.  He did say that the two lived "a homosexual fantasy lifestyle."  In his book The Seduction of the Innocent, Wertham wrote, "Only someone ignorant of the fundamentals of psychology and psychopathology of sex can fail to realize a subtle atmosphere of homoeroticism which pervades the adventures of the mature 'Batman' and his young friend 'Robin.'")  This understanding of the relationship continues to this day.  Frank Miller, creator of some of the most compelling comic book storytelling (including the aforementioned The Dark Knight Returns), had this to say about the Batman's sexuality:

"Batman isn't gay.  His sexual urges are so drastically sublimated into crime-fighting that there's no room for any other emotional activity.  Notice how insipid are the stories where Batman has a girlfriends or some sort of romance.  It's not because he's gay, but because he's borderline pathological, he's obsessive.  He be much healthier if he were gay."

So why then this steady stream of young side kicks?  And why are they so often so bright and colorful, a marked contrast from the Dark Knight himself?  One reason is that Bruce Wayne was himself a young child when his parents were murdered during that mugging-gone-wrong, the event that gave birth to the Batman.  Bringing these young men -- some no more than children -- into his mission can be seen as trying to provide the mentorship and support that he never received.  There are exceptions, but several of the Robins -- including the first -- suffered losses similar to Bruce's.  Young Dick Grayson was part of an acrobatic troupe -- the Flying Graysons -- and saw his parents murdered as part of an intended extortion scheme.  Bruce Wayne was in the audience that night when their trapeze wires suspiciously broke and he recognized something of himself in the suddenly orphaned Grayson.  It's been noted that Grayson, Todd, and Drake have often been drawn as looking like younger versions of Bruce Wayne.

Practically speaking, the authors of the comic who actually introduced the Robin character have said that it was getting difficult writing all of the "thought balloons" necessary to convey the Dark Knight's thinking.  With a partner, a side kick, he could talk out loud the things that were going on in his head, and with someone who was a little less perfect with whom the reader might be able to relate a little more readily.  After all, didn't Holmes need a Watson?

From a psychological point of view it can be said that Bruce needs a Robin to remind himself of himself and the reasons for his crusade.  He also, at some level, is aware that he cannot continue this fight forever and so he's training the next generation of crime-fighters, as it were.

But why so bright and cheery?  That original Robin costume, with it's bright yellow cape, red jacket and, as they're not so affectionately known, "pixie boots" would certainly stand out, contrasting quite dramatically with the shadowy Batman.  So what's up with that?  Again, a practical answer is that the too grim detective/vigilante needed to be toned down for readers and that a bright side kick was a way of doing it.  (Adam West and the rest of the gang did it even more in the Batman television show of the 1960s.)  It also makes some good psychological sense.  With his parents gunned down before him at such a young age, it could easily be argued that part of his psychosocial development was halted there, and that while he matured in many other ways a part of him remains that little child.  The brightly clad Robin -- which in a recent depiction of his origins is noted to be a sign of spring -- represents his childlike hope and optimism.

My favorite understanding, though, comes from a flashback in a one-shot from November 2014:

Robin (apparently looking at his costume for the first time):  It's a little, I don't know, bright.  I mean, you get to wear all the black stuff.  You get to use the night and the shadows and things.  Won't everyone, like, see me out there?

 Batman:  Do you know how to use the shadows and the night?

Robin:  No, but ... 

Batman:  You wear black and you rely on the dark.  It becomes your crutch.  Someone takes it from you, and you fall.  Wear your outfit so they will see you.  Then beat them when they see you.  When you're ready, wear mine.  Earn the night.

Earn the night.  And he does.  As Nightwing, his costume is mostly black.  And when it is thought that Bruce Wayne had died, Dick Grayson dons the cape and cowl of his mentor and friend.

One of my mentors charged me, at my ordination, "don't be an old curmudgeon until you are one."  He might have been saying, "earn your curmudgeonliness."  And I can think of so many other parts of my personality that I have had to "earn," as well as many I'd have to admit that I haven't quite earned yet.  Perhaps you can, too.

And I think that all of us can stand reminders from time to time of who we once were -- of the optimism, and the dreams, and the ideals we once had.  St. Paul aside, we should not always "put away childish things."  Perhaps we could all use a Robin in our lives.

Pax tecum,

RevWik

A portion of the so-called "Bat Family" (l-r) Red Robin, Batwoman, Robin, the Batman, Nighwing, Batgirl, Red Hood

Death to Clark Kent

“A mask may reveal as much as it conceals.”

~ Unknown

 This a version of this sermon was originally preached at the First Universalist Church in Yarmouth, Maine in 2005.  This version was offered at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church Unitarian Universalist in Charlottesville, VA on Sunday, January 11, 2015.  A podcast will be posted here so that you can listen if you prefer.

Our Opening Words are from the Gospel of Quentine Tarrentino, Kill Bill, Vol. 2.  Bill speaks:

“An essential characteristic of the superhero mythology is, there's the superhero, and there's the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When he wakes up in the morning, he's Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And it is in that characteristic that Superman stands alone. Superman did not become Superman, Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he's Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red "S", that's the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes. What Kent wears, the glasses, the business suit, that's the costume. That's the costume Superman wears to blend in with us. Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent? He's weak, he's unsure of himself... he's a coward. Clark Kent is Superman's critique on the whole human race.” 

* * *

Even a cursory look around my office—and even more so if you could see my office at home—you will discover something very important about me: I am into comic books and super heroes.  (Big surprise, right?  Nikki Skaggs even embroidered superhero logos on the back side of this really beautiful stole.)  I recently cataloged my comic book collection at nearly 2,000 issues, and I have a little  more than fifty action figures.  (Most of them variations of the Batman.)  And let’s be clear – I’m not one of those white-gloves and tweezers kind of collectors who keeps everything in its original packaging so as to maintain its maximum value.  Oh no! I read my comic books and, since I’m among friends, have been known to play with my action figures from time to time.  I’ve even started making stop-motion videos with them.  So yeah, I’m a comic book geek.

Yet this morning I want to use the superhero as a window through which to explore something really quite relevant to us—you and me—and not just something for folks who’s super powers include fitting into incredibly tight spandex outfits.  Before we get into that, though, I want to quibble a bit with the reading we heard as our Opening Words.

You see, as I said, I’ve read a lot of comic books.  And believe it or not, a great many of them explore real philosophical issues (in-between super powered smack-downs of course).  And one of the favorites, the one that was the core of our opening words, is the question of identity.  Just who is the Batman:  is he the man or the mask?  Over and over throughout the years Peter Parker has thought about, and tried, opting out of the super hero biz, but again and again the question comes up – can he simply throw away the costume and live a normal life, or is he somehow destined to be Spiderman?  This kind of exploration is actually in a lot of comics — the ones, at least, by the good writers.  And with all due respect to Mr. Tarantino, the current consensus is that while Superman may in fact be a “strange visitor from another planet,” his true identity is the simple Kansas farm boy, and millionaire playboy Bruce Wayne is really just a more or less convenient persona into which the Batman retires at the end of a shift.  Still, his essential point remains correct:  part of the classic superhero myth involves the interplay of identity and alternate identity.

And see?  That’s where it gets relevant for us.  After all we, too, wear a variety of masks in our day-to-day living.  Don’t we play a multitude of roles, finding ourselves to a greater or lesser extent revealing or concealing our “true selves” depending on the situation?  I’ve had stay-at-home mothers come to talk with me, once their kids had grown up and were spending more and more time out of the nest, talk to me with great concern because they felt that they had played the role of “mommy” for so long that they no longer knew who they were “in real life.” 

And don’t we, at least sometimes, find ourselves playing a role that really feels removed from who we really are?  Able to bend steel with our bare hands we feign difficulty opening the lid of a mayonnaise jar.  I’ve had women and men talk to me about the difficulties of having to hide—or, at least, seriously downplay—parts of who they are while at work, for instance:  everything from people who pretend not to be as smart as they really are, to people who’ve had to deny the existence of the person they love most. 

You know what I’m talking about – right?  We know what it’s like to play more than one role.  Do you ever wonder which one is you?  Which one is the real, the authentic, the true you?  It can be hard to know, can’t it? 

This sermon this morning is an update of one I preached ten years ago in another congregation.  That one was suggested by a Worship Weaver I was working with then.  He brought that Tarrentino reading to my attention, and suggested the title – “Death to Clark Kent.” I think the title was his way of expressing that yearning we all feel to be ourselves—just ourselves—no games, no masks, no roles; to simply be our full, complete selves all the time.  This is no new longing.  It’s a frequent form of the hero’s journey – the discovering of one’s true identity – and it’s a goal described in a lot of the world’s spiritual literature. 

Again and again Lao Tsu and Chuan Tzu talk about the “self free person,” the person who plays no roles, who simply is.  Tilden Edwards, one of the founders of the Shalem Institute, speaks of Jesus as one who was “always discovering his identity, [and who was not] possessed of one.”  Or, we might say, possessed by one – forced into a role rather than freely and organically discovering himself in each and every moment.  This was, in its simplest terms, the idea behind the “go and find yourself” movement.  There’s this fantasy that Superman could throw off his glasses and funky suits, could get rid of the geeky and gawky Clark Kent and be, once and for all, the Man of Steel he was meant to be.  And if he could do it, maybe we could, too.

I have to admit, though, that I wonder about this quest.  There’s no question that in my lifetime I’ve played a lot of different roles, and I know I've even played roles that have not felt completely authentic, but I’m not so sure it’s all that easy to know which “me” is me.  I’m a parent, a partner, a pastor, a prestidigitator, a published author, a pain in the neck (who apparently really likes alliteration), and each of these – all of these – is me.  I’m courageous and cowardly; I’ve been incredibly insightful and incredibly off the mark.  How do I determine which version of me is the “real” me?

My friend Takeo Fujikura told me something about his language that I find really profound.   In Japanese, he said, there is no single first-person pronoun, no way to say "I."  Or, to be more precise, there is no single single first-person pronoun—there are, if I remember correctly, something like seven.  He said that this is because Japanese culture recognizes that there is no single "me."  (As Walt Whitman said, "I contain multitudes.")  The “me” I am with my parents is different than the “me” I am with with my friends, and both are different than the “me” I am with my kids.  The “me” I am in the break room is different than the “me” I am when I’m called into the boss’ office.  I mean, yes, it’s all “me.”  But …well … you know what I mean, right?  You’ve known those differences, too.

The cover of our Order of Service has on it the cover of JLA #51, which is the beginning of an absolutely fabulous four-issue story arc featuring the Justice League of America.  As my fellow comic geeks know, there have been many iterations of this super team, but at time of this story it consisted of the big guns:  the Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash, Green Lantern, and Martian Manhunter.  Now, if I can resist going into way too much detail, let’s just say that in this story there’s a sixth dimensional creature with the ability to grant wishes.  (And if you think that sounds weird try reading the book of Revelations sometime!)

So, this creature hones in on Superman's thought in a moment of frustration that he wished he and the others didn’t have to live with two identities.  And, suddenly, there is both a Superman and a Clark Kent, a Batman and a Bruce Wayne.  Over the course of the series, each of these figures begins to change, to transform, and not in particularly pretty ways.  Superman, without the humanizing influence of his adoptive parents, becomes more violent and coldly authoritarian.  Batman, without the driving passion of his grief over his parents’ murder, becomes unfocused and ineffectual, an empty shell.  Clark Kent, on the other hand, without the cape and tights, becomes the coward he portrays.  And Bruce Wayne, without the Dark Knight, begins to lose his mind because there’s no outlet for his raging grief.  Similar difficulties befall each of the heroes, until they finally realize that they each need to reunite their now separate selves. 

Which brings us back, quite nicely, to one of my favorite theological positions —“both/and.”  A number of years ago I read about a psychologist at Harvard who was studying why it’s so hard for people to change behaviors they themselves find objectionable.  Even though there are aspects of their personalities or behavior that they really and truly would like to change, no amount of effort seems to have any lasting result. Maybe you’ve heard about people like that.  I think I saw a movie about people like that once.

Anyway, as part of her study this psychologist had people make a list of the behavior traits that disturbed them the most.  She also had them make a list of the behaviors that they were most proud of. What she found was remarkable – the two lists were almost invariably mirror images of one another.  Let’s say that a person was bothered about never being on time and rarely following through on commitments; at the same time, though, this person would take great pride in being free and spontaneous.  Somebody else who thought that their rigidity was problematic also thought that their discipline was a positive.  The psychologist posited that people have so much trouble riding themselves of their most negative traits because they are so intimately tied to their most positive ones.

Superman needs Clark Kent.  The Batman needs Bruce Wayne.  And you and I need those parts of ourselves that we would rather not acknowledge.  We need to be our whole selves, not just those parts we think are acceptable or that project what we think we should be like.  Years ago the Catholic priest Henri Nouwen popularized the phrase, “the wounded healer” as a way of capturing the idea that it is precisely our wounds, our woundedness and our weaknesses, that are our greatest strengths.

That’s not exactly intuitive, is it?  Not, apparently, logical.  Not even, if you’re anything like me a good bit of the time, all that believable.  Yet apparently it’s true.  Superman and Clark Kent need each other; Bruce Wayne and the Batman need each other.  And you … well … you need …you.  We can’t split off part of ourselves and still be whole.

But does that mean we’re condemned to be, to stay, as we are right now?  Does that mean we can’t – or shouldn’t – try to change?  To improve?  To grow?  There’s another comic book arc in which Superman loses his powers but still wants to fight the bad guys.  So he goes to the Batcave and undergoes a kind of superhero boot camp.  Clark Kent wants to be a hero even if he’s lost the “super.”  Change is possible, but it can’t simply be done by negating or rejecting those parts of ourselves we find unlovable.  A Christian colleague and friend likes to say, “God loves you exactly as you are, and loves you too much to let you stay that way.”

The key to change, the key to growth, the key to living as our true and authentic selves is learning to recognize and appreciate the strengths in our shadows (and the shadow of our strengths) and then to integrate the two.  Near the end of that JLA story line, the two aspects of the heroes join, but not fully.  They coexist, yet still remain less than integrated – two heads, four arms, torsos joined like victims of some awful transporter accident on the Enterprise.  And, of course, in this state they are virtually useless (as well as, you know, in agony).  And many of us get stuck in this in-between place when we first try to acknowledge our “dark side” yet are not quite ready to embrace it.

It’s Wonder Woman who finally saves the day since in truth we are always wholly ourselves and Wonder Woman is, in essence, the Spirit of Truth.  The narrator has this to say,

“The Spirit of Truth.  The only force on earth that has even a chance of galvanizing her friends and allies … of forcing ten men to acknowledge that they are but parts of a whole … useless, crippled, fragments who cannot coexist apart … who must for once … just once in a world of never-ending battles … stop fighting … and surrender … to each other.”

Stop fighting and surrender.  Good advice, and a quest worth pursuing.

Pax tecum,

RevWik