By Guest Blogger Susan Markloff, C.E. Mission Weeks Assistant Director
I’ve always been what you would call a nerd. I’m all about sci-fi, fantasy, and superheroes. My other fantastical loving friends and I have had our fair share of arguments over who our favorite superhero is and why. And these aren’t just small conversations; they’re hour long debates that go into not only the abilities of our favorite superheroes, but also their morality and general ties to humanity that lead them to the status of “superhero”.
It’s conversations like this that have made me ask the question of myself: What more could Jesus do to be my favorite superhero?
Talk about a sucker punch to the gut.
Here I am sitting debating with friends about why Batman is far superior as a superhero than Iron Man or Superman, when the truest definition of a superhero sits in the midst of the conversation and never gets mentioned. Why? Because he doesn’t have graphic novels that have sold in the millions? Because his stories aren’t “relevant” or “epic” enough for our visual craving minds? Because it’s cliché? Because if I say Jesus is my favorite superhero, people would roll their eyes (and maybe even decide to not be my friend anymore)?
I mean, yeah, Jesus doesn’t have heat vision. He doesn’t wear spandex and a cape. He doesn’t have a utility belt and he doesn’t drive a fancy car that has rockets strapped to the back. He doesn’t have a suit of armor or a hammer. He doesn’t turn into a giant hulking rage monster.
But y’know what? He never needed any of that. It’s kinda fantastical if you think about it. He was a nondescript person. A simple carpenter from a no-name, tiny town. A blip on the radar. He wasn’t even given a proper place to be born, instead legitimately only having animals around him as he entered this world. And what did he do?
He healed the lame, the leper, the sick. He brought the dead back to life with a simple command. He made food miraculously feed more mouths than it should have (and had more to spare). He spoke wisdom and changed lives with a simple sentence. He saw the worst of a person and still chose to see them with love. He punched death in the face and gave Satan the smack down of the ages.
Our superhero took imprisonment, lashes, a slow walk to death’s mountain, and a humiliating, criminal’s death on a cross. He took all of that, all of the things we should have endured, and took that burden for us. And then he conquered it. Not for his own sake, but for ours.
It kinda makes it stupid that I’ve never had the courage to say Jesus is my superhero.