by Jeannie Chun [spoiler alert on latest Superman film]
I had measured expectations going into this latest Superman film, given some of the previous flops in the DC movie world. However, this movie reignited some of my early enjoyment of the iconic Superman series played by Christopher Reeve. My childhood exposure to comic books was limited to the love triangles of Archie, Betty, and Veronica in the Archie Comics, which I begged my mom to buy at the grocery store. But it tickled my interest in comics and I stayed a close checkout-lane lengths away from the cape and cowl creations of the DC and Marvel universes. I reflected on James Gunn’s adaptation (known for Guardians of the Galaxy and now leading DC Films) and compared it to Zack Snyder’s 2012 Man of Steel. What emerged was a universal theme: the search for life’s deepest questions and the discovery of answers through a different superhero.
James Gunn brings out a relatable Superman, with his human-like vulnerabilities and missteps to the forefront. In a tender scene, we see Superman conversing with his earthly dad, Pa Kent, who gently leans in as his son expresses inner doubts. Doubts about his actions, his purpose, and the unanswered questions about his origin and identity. An unexpected beginning, surprise turns, and resonating moments had me hooked.
Zack Snyder depicts strength through a melancholy, dispassionate character. Snyder’s Superman had battles with fellow metahumans, Kryptonians, with no weakness-inducing kryptonite in sight, winning every battle he fought. In contrast, we enter Gunn’s Superman story with his first lost fight.
Both directors allowed Clark to wrestle with the same fundamental questions that we non-superheroes ask of ourselves and others: Where am I from? Why am I here? What am I called to do? I embraced the lofty inspirations superheroes provided me. I related to their self-doubting, identity-seeking frailties. And I wondered if this sort of mythologizing influenced my search and understanding of a childhood Sunday school hero I was just getting to know.
Pádraig Ó Tuama, author of 50 Poems, writes, “Important to remember is that a myth is not something false, rather a myth is something with so much truth that it needs a fantastical container.”
Walking alongside my fantastical, primary-colored superheroes, I felt truth-seeking questions stirring within me about the world beyond this world, my identity, and my place in it. I, too, hoped I had a yet-to-reveal noble purpose.
Superheroes and Sunday School
I grew up going to church on occasion, thanks to my dad’s longing for connection with fellow Korean immigrants who congregated at churches. Continuing throughout high school and into college, the deepening questions blossomed into a journey of faith. Going with the flow of Presbyterian and non-denominational orthodoxy, I became exposed to, and came to acknowledge, the fullness of Jesus’s divinity and humanity. As I prayed to and learned about Jesus, I attuned myself to his divinity, the equal of God Himself, and a more distant figure who could do something about my prayers. As layers of truth were added, I drew near to a more approachable Jesus, the one we see joking and entertaining all manner of questions with His followers in the current Chosen series. This Jesus softened my heart to a more distant, once fear-inducing Father God.
Throughout the history of Christendom, theologians and thinkers have asked questions about the dual nature of the divine and human, some denouncing one or the other, seeing Him as a separate, non-unified being, and other early church heretical conclusions. The prevailing Christian belief landed on Jesus possessing two complete natures—divine and human—united in a single person without losing either nature. I learned that who I understood Jesus to be seemed like a critical layer to my evolving theology. We know our comic book superheroes can save, yet problems and hurts continue each new day. But my Sunday school hero can reach the core of our struggles. I understood his divine nature carried with it the power to rescue us eternally, a power only held in the hand of God Himself. And His humanity qualified Him to be the untarnished offering needed to restore what first separated us. Understanding the true nature of Jesus was a worthy question to wrestle with throughout the centuries.
Identity and Purpose in the Real and Fantastical
In a later scene in the latest Superman movie, a group of young boys raises a tall wooden pole, two sticks duct-taped together with the Superman logo drawn on a triangle-shaped cloth banner. They stake their visual SOS into the ground, signaling for Superman to rescue them as their neighbors, armed with superior firepower, position themselves to plunder. They had already answered the question Superman had been wrestling with. They are confident that Superman is the one who can and is willing to save and restore peace for them and their nation.
The noble identity-seeking questions Superman asks of himself are the same questions we ask ourselves. Yet the hero of our faith, the One to whom we raise our flag (as Psalm 20:5 declares), isn’t seeking these questions to find answers for Himself. Unlike our cape-donning, self-doubting superheroes, He asks us to wrestle with the question He asked His followers over 2000 years ago. The answer to which resolves all of our questions: “Who do you say I am?”
Jeannie Chun was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area and resides in San Francisco with her husband and their fluffy grey cat, Oso. She enjoys spending time with family, friends, and her spiritual community at Cross & Crown Church. For fun, she enjoys hiking, taking Zumba classes, and pondering life’s deeper mysteries, which God seems to reveal in bits and layers.