Ever since my childhood I have loved heroes, including heroes of the Bible.

The monastery of Saint Bernard, with its quietness and reflective atmosphere, provides a good place for the hobby of writing.

My origins of this hobby go back to when I first began to write fantastical stories for my mother when I was a child. Fantastical heroes were part of my life throughout my teenage years with the reading of J. R. R. Tolkien, Terry Brooks, and Robert Jordan.

Every day at Saint Bernard is filled with readings from the Scriptures, both at the Divine Office and in personal reflective reading of the Bible, or lectio divina. Lectio is one of my favorite parts of my day as a monk. Biblical heroes came off the page and my love for fantasy adventure, which never went away in my life, was combined with my love for the Bible.

“How wonderful would it be,” I thought, “to evangelize through fantasy adventure.”

Glorifying God in a fantastical world with Him as the one true God would do just that.

Writing a fantasy adventure story is not the norm for a monk, and I’m still mystified as to why God called me to my vocation. To take a fantasy nerd guy like myself and place him in a monastery is indeed a unique action for God to perform. God continually uses the unlikely for his glorification as he did many of the Biblical heroes. Now I don’t consider myself a hero, but I love my vocation and am inspired by true heroes such as the saints that have gone before us, living or dead, as they are a continual inspiration for me.

So the writing commenced in my early days as a monk. Several attempts to write a fantastical story were done and I asked author friends of mine what they thought. “Try again,” they said. And so I did. However, I was continually concerned for the readers. Because I was continually grieved by dark fantasy and unhealthy fiction in our world, I wanted to give readers a story of light.

Writing material that would “sell” was not really the priority. I wanted to envelope the reader in a God-centered world.

As we Benedictines say: “That in all things God may be glorified.” I couldn’t write a fantastical story apart from that goal.

“Our elven heroes prove charming, and the narrative burns hot and quick.”
—Lorehaven magazine (read full sponsored review)

So I slowly created my own heroes. Finally, fellow author friends, editors and a private publisher were satisfied with The Flame of Telbyrin. Some of the heroes in this story were typical fantasy heroes and some were not.

I also developed the liking for female heroes because I thought that in the early days of fantasy, they didn’t get enough press! There were many heroines of the Bible that I think are important.

Among these heroines of the Bible is a woman named Ruth. As I developed my characters in my book, I modeled the character Larilyn Alandiron after her. I think Ruth’s loyalty to family is especially important today. Family and marriages seem to be falling apart these days and that’s a pity.

Indeed, one of the questions that I commonly receive as a monk is: “Can you leave?” I always answer “no,” because of my loyalty to my brother monks and to the Lord. Vowed life is to be taken seriously and so are marriages. In The Flame of Telbyrin, the married characters, Orilin and Larilyn Alandiron, represent that commitment.

As ideas for the world of Telbyrin gradually developed in my mind (mainly while exercising!), it occurred to me that Christ’s message being intended for everyone was important for us today as well. The Flame in the book represents the Light of Christ. Gnostic heresies have no place in our faith today nor did they in any other time in history.

During the Easter Vigil in the Catholic Church, we come into a dark church first carrying a huge Easter candle. The first words sung are: “The Light of Christ!”

One fan said, “That is like the Flame in your story!”

I appreciated this very much. As people in the ceremony light their candles from the Easter candle, we symbolically pass the Light of Christ to each other just like the different races in The Flame of Telbyrin pass the Flame to each other. Each Christian in this world essentially holds a candle, the Light of Christ, which is not meant to be put under a bushel basket but for everyone to see.

We need heroes in our world today. We have enough negativity and evil messages in our world, especially in the realm of fiction. What I humbly offer to readers and to the world is the Light of Christ and I know that it is by God’s grace that I do so.

The Flame of Telbyrin is available now. Lorehaven magazine says:

“Benedict Dyar’s The Flame of Telbyrin packs a lot of plot into one novel. On a large scale, armies battle each other. On a smaller scale, our heroes must overcome difficulties to reach the king and queen in the city of Gallinthrar, and that’s only the beginning of their struggle. The story roars with action: kidnappings, betrayals, and even encounters with the undead . . .”

Read the complete early review exclusively in Lorehaven magazine’s fall 2019 issue.

Today I’m going to talk about the trope of making a deal with the Devil. We’ll go over where such a story idea came from and what part of that kind of story is realistic in terms of what the Bible says about Satan, and what’s not. Then we’ll circle around to mentioning some story opportunities for Christian writers of speculative fiction who wish to feature “deals” for souls (or deals for other things) in stories.

Probably the most famous treatment of making a deal with the Devil is nowhere close to the only use of this trope. Especially in the 1800s and early 1900s there were dozens of stories that used this story device. While this type of story is a lot less popular now than it once was, it’s still pretty common. I think there’s even a Simpson’s episode where Homer agreed to sell his soul for a doughnut (but he couldn’t sell it, because Marge owns his soul…).

Note that these stories all tend to have some elements in common. There’s a negotiation, a contract of some kind is usually drawn up, typically in blood, supernatural power of some kind from Satan is given, in exchange, normally, for an immortal soul. (You could write stories about deals with God, but as a story idea deals with God are limited by the fact we know God is eternally righteous and just…)

Image credit: Freakingnews.com

But of course the most famous treatment of this story is also widely considered the greatest play ever written in German.  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe wrote a tale about the scholar Heinrich Faust, whose desire to gain knowledge was so great that he agreed to sell his soul for the ability to know more truth. Though this in turn stems from the earlier Christopher Marlowe play in English, in which Faust has the demon Mephistopheles provide him the ability to work magic for twenty-four years before having to hand over his soul, which he uses to pull pranks and otherwise please himself in various ways.

Even older than Goethe’s play Faust in 1808, which greatly popularized the subsequent fantasy trope of making a deal with the devil, even older than Christopher Marlowe’s play The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus (first performed in 1592), is the story of Theophilus of Adana from the 6th Century. This account doesn’t come from an obscure village of the European “Dark Ages,” because Adana was a Greek-speaking metropolis in what is Turkey in modern times and was part of the still-civilized world. That’s because Adana was part of what we call today “The Byzantine Empire,” which never really experienced the Dark Ages (BTW, the “Byzantines” called themselves “Romans,” not “Byzantines”).

There are numerous variations in the story of Theophilus, but the most basic one is that he was elected to be a Christian bishop, but in a show of humility turned the office down. Then, when his successor as a bishop denied him a position as an archdeacon, Theophilus sought out an old practitioner of magic (either a spiritualist or a necromancer) to put him in contact with Satan. Satan then offered to get him the job of archdeacon back, but he first had to sign a contract in blood denying both Jesus and the Virgin Mary, in effect denying his own salvation (as opposed to giving his soul directly to Satan). Eventually Theophilus regretted his decision and sought to repent, which he finally managed to do, aided by a visitation from the Virgin Mary.

This story is seen as apocryphal by pretty much everyone nowadays, but some Christian thinkers took it seriously in the Middle Ages, and used the tale as extra-Biblical grounds to establish the importance of Mary as an arbiter of repentance (according to Wikipedia  Peter Damian, Bernard of Clairvaux, Anthony of Padua, Bonaventure and later on Alphonsus Liguori thought this).

A later Medieval legend relates how Saint Wolfgang tricked a demon (Urian–who is perhaps really the Devil) into magically creating a magnificent church building in the wilderness at the cost of promising the first soul that enters the church would be his. (The first soul who enters the church belongs a blood-thirsty wolf, so the Devil gets cheated, because he wanted a human soul.) Which is a similar story in some ways to that of Theophilus of Adana.

Saint Wolfgang and the Devil by Michael Pacher (painted between 1471 and 1475).

The tale of Theophilus is also credited with linking witchcraft to Satan in Christian thought, but the argument that Satan has supernatural powers to hand out as he wishes can be made by the Bible alone. For example, if we combine the Devil taking Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple, and then showing him the kingdoms of the world, plus Satan striking down Job and his family by means both natural and supernatural (Job 1 and 2), we see just a few of many possible demonstrations of Satan’s supernatural power. That worshipers of idols make fellowship with demons (who are under Satan’s command per Luke 11:15-18) is stated in both the Old Testament (2 Chronicles 11:15)(at least in some translations) and the New (I Corinthians 10:20)–and these forms of “high” worship were often associated with magic. But “low” magic outside of temples was also associated with demonic power in the Bible (see Acts 13:8-11 and 16:16). And of course Revelation 12-13 shows the “Beast” receiving power to do signs on the Earth from the “Dragon,” a.k.a. Satan.

So, Satan clearly has supernatural power according to the Bible and the ability to give that power to human beings on Earth, at least at times. Though on the other hand, it’s true that fighting the supernatural power of Satan is never a major preoccupation of the apostles. It’s only something that comes up from time to time…so how it can be true that the power of Satan is both something to take seriously and also something the apostles didn’t have  to worry about very often? That seems a puzzler, but it’s beyond the scope of this article. (I’ll address this apparent contradiction in a later post.)

But to get back to the topic, Satan really does have the power to perform miraculous works and hand out that power–Jesus really was teleported to the top of the Temple somehow, just as Job’s family really was struck down by power Satan exercised. And that power clearly was exercised by certain human beings based on contact with spirits/demons (note I said “contact” not “a contract”). But what about the contract in blood? Is that Biblical at all?

That’s actually a big topic–there’s a long history of written contracts being made that were accompanied with animal sacrifices (obviously to include blood) both in the sacrificial system of the Hebrew Bible and also in nations outside of the ancient Israelites. There’s also been a number of cultures who associated blood with a firm oath or promise–it’s maybe more than a bit hackneyed as a story device, but being a “blood brother” by spilling and mixing blood really was a thing in many places in the world and still is sometimes. Hebrews 9:12-15 says Jesus entered the heavenly Most Holy Place with his own blood–for the purpose of sealing a new covenant with God. Covenants are often written of course–plus the Greek phrase “new covenant” in Hebrews 9 (διαθήκης καινῆς) is identical to the term “new testament” in Biblical Greek–or perhaps I should say, “New Testament.” Though nothing in the Bible says either the New Testament or the Old were written in blood. So is the idea of a contract in blood Biblical? Eh, sorta.

So the idea Satan has power to hand out seems totally legit according to the Bible and the contract in blood, while not directly a Bible concept, is pretty close. What about the rest of the selling-your-soul scenario? Does Satan need to make deals for people’s souls? Does a person have the ability to sell their soul in the first place?

A quick read of Matthew 16:26 might sound like it supports the idea that someone could make a deal for his or her soul: “For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?” But in context, it’s saying the opposite. It’s saying there is no deal a human being can make to secure his or her soul–that in fact, the only way to save your soul is to follow Jesus (Matt 26:24-25). Your soul is not something you, as a human being, have any power to buy and sell. You can only effect your soul’s destiny by faith expressed in following Christ.

The Bible does say a Christian is “bought” via the death of Jesus in order to belong to God (I Cor 6:20), which might imply that without Christ your soul belongs to Satan anyway and God buys it back. But the Bible doesn’t say that directly and certainly we have no evidence that Satan gets to keep souls. Yes, Satan is called the Lord of those who do not believe (Ephesians 2:2), but the Devil is not the owner of hell or souls in punishment–God in fact prepared eternal punishment to send Satan to in the future (Matthew 25:41), rather than it being his home. While yes, it makes total sense to say Satan wants to see human souls in punishment with him (Revelation 12:12), it’s clear that God is the one who directs where souls go as the result of Divine justice (Revelation 20:11-15). Not the Devil.

In fact, I could make a solid case from the Bible that you don’t have a soul, but rather you are a soul. You are a soul who has a body, rather than a body who has a soul. But I’m not going to use up space here to make the case that your soul, as in your inner, spiritual self, is more you than your outer self, i.e. your body. That’s because in fact both body and soul (and spirit, too) are important and are intertwined so that the idea that only the soul or spirit (or both) matter and the body doesn’t isn’t a Christian doctrine, because Christianity expects a bodily resurrection (Acts 17:32).

Note that while the Bible never says the Devil owns anyone’s soul, it’s repeatedly said that Satan and the demons take ownership of people’s bodies (one example out of many, Matthew 12:43-45). Though it is true relatively little is said about demonic possession in the instructions to churches in the epistles, which I think means possession is not to be the primary focus of any Christian, yet the possibility of the Devil directly (Luke 22:3) or demons entering human bodies is an actual possibility that the Bible talks about.

So why don’t stories about a deal with the Devil feature people selling their bodies to Satan? Probably because there’s was a sense even hundreds of years ago that your soul may be something you don’t need right now–that maybe it only secures eternity for you–but your body you need right now. So you trade the eternal for the temporary in the classic setup. Which certainly points to something people actually do, though in a different way, by focusing on what this life has to offer and ignoring their need for reconciliation with God through Jesus Christ.

The “Deal with the Devil” therefore is a powerful trope, one that speaks to a reality of things people do in their lives, even if they can’t literally do exactly what the elements of the “deal” contain. Because people really do abandon the hope of eternity in favor the pleasures and successes of this life. And by juxtaposing a demon or the Devil into the story, you make it clear what the exchange is really all about. I also know for certain that at least at times people even pray to Satan and ask him for something in exchange for serving him (I know that because I tried it myself–yes, I really did–thank God for rescuing me from my youthful stupidity). Whether the people who try it really get what they ask for is another matter–but even if Satan helps people that doesn’t prove they are able to give up their soul in exchange. (Them believing Satan owns their soul, even if it’s not true, might be enough for the Devil.)

Note that even though we know Satan or a demon can possess a human body, I don’t think we know the exact route to possession from the Bible. Nor do I think we need to know–we know how to stay away from possession (something I’ll talk about in a later post) and that’s good enough. But it seems more likely that a person could choose to give up their body to Satan than their soul. However, it may not even be possible to give up control of the body at a whim. It might take more than that for someone to lose control of their flesh and blood.

But as a story idea, we could float a plot in which a person in exchange for magical powers or some other benefit for a certain length of time, gives over his or her body afterwards. The person in such a story could even offer up their soul, but the Devil could reject it in this hypothetical tale, mentioning that a deal for souls is fiction, but a deal for bodies is real. (I think that would be clever.)

On the topic of story ideas, I almost forgot to mention what is the most important account of a deal with Satan for someone who takes the Bible seriously, though I dropped a few references to it. Job.

The Book of Job is far older than even the Byzantine bit of fiction about Theophilus of Adana. Note it has a number of elements in common between it and the classic Deal with the Devil scenario. There was a negotiation–and a verbal contract–a human being was on the line–and Satan exercised supernatural power. But in Job, the negotiation was between God and Satan, not Job. And Satan’s goal was to get Job to sin, to curse God.

That hints at what I want to talk about next time, spiritual warfare for Christian writers of speculative fiction. Because it reveals at least one of Satan’s goals if not the main goal–to tempt or provoke people who are doing right into doing wrong.

But to get back on track to today’s topic, note how a story about a deal with the Devil could be different if we insert God into the tale. While we don’t want to insert heretical ideas into Christian fiction and we run that risk if we bring God into a tale, it should be possible to feature a story with a deal with the Devil in which God is involved that isn’t too wild in doctrine–perhaps a man wanting to sell his soul is directed by Satan to get a copy of the title for it from God first. Or perhaps in a different tale a woman’s “soul papers” could be faked and God would intervene in the story and point out the forgery. Or perhaps people could intend to make a deal with the Devil, but find they are actually negotiating with God. Among many other possibilities.

Overall, the “Deal with Devil,” while a much-used trope, has the virtue of demonstrating it’s possible to exchange temporary benefit for eternal loss. Which is true. While the classic trope supposes a number of things that either seem improbable or cannot be true at all, what is more likely to be true remains interesting fodder for potential stories.

So what do you think, readers? What’s your favorite story featuring a deal with the Devil? What other thoughts do you have on this topic?

This past weekend I was on a hunting trip in the marshy forests of south Georgia. As I was jostling down the dirt roads on a trailer with several other hunters, I thought, “Wow, this is 2019 and here we are, doing what people have been doing for millennia.” The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that I wasn’t doing exactly what people have been doing for millennia. Yes, going hunting is as old as time, but my circumstances were quite different than those who lived just a few decades ago: I had checked into the hunt online, I had cell phone service even miles away from the nearest town, I could take pictures with my phone, and my clothes, tent, gun, and supplies were all made with materials that would sound like something from science fiction fifty years ago.

This also got me thinking: when does the future arrive? Media, entertainment, and scientists have been painting a picture of the future that almost never lines up with reality when it arrives. Have you ever seen 2001: A Space Odyssey? It wasn’t meant to be a blueprint for life at the turn of the century, but I’m sure moviegoers in 1968 thought that at least some of the fantastic scenarios in that movie would come to pass when the new millennium arrived. Of course, now we know better, but we’re still captivated by visions of life in the mid- or late-21st century. The far future is fun to imagine as well but I think most people are interested in a future that will conceivably come about in their lifetimes.

One thing I have learned as I have lived through a few future “arrivals” is that technology changes while life remains relatively the same. People want to eat good food, have fun, be comfortable, indulge in carnal pleasures, and live as long as possible. This has been the human condition since creation, and this is how God designed us. There have been some seismic shifts in history, especially with the advent of industrialization and now digital technology, but life more or less continues as it always has. Futurists talk of this grand era where everyone is connected and we’re all sharing in one global consciousness and blah blah blah. The truth is that people just want to use the advanced technology available to them for their own goals and comfort. The technology inside a smartphone is mind-boggling, and people use it to take better quality selfies and upload them more quickly. This isn’t a condemnation; it’s just an observation. I grossly underuse the technology available to me, and I really don’t care. I don’t feel the need to drastically alter my life to fit into the “future” I’m supposedly living in, and neither should anyone else. If someone does want to live a futuristic life, that is all fine and dandy, but it shouldn’t be surprising when the train of humanity continues to ride on familiar tracks.

One key feature of the future is that we are less and less aware of how technology is shaping our lives, and this is not something new. What is fresh and exciting and possibly scary for one generation will be normal and indispensable for the successive generation. When we partake in age-old human customs like cooking, building, courting, hunting, and communicating, we utilize technology that would stupefy nearly all generations before us, and likewise we would be stupefied to comprehend how they managed without our current technology. Some things have evolved, such as how we spend our leisure time. Just moments ago, I saw an ad for a radio-controlled toy Ducati motorcycle. The technology involved was probably developed by NASA at some point, and now it’s in children’s toys. The internet opened up a whole new world, both good and bad. Yet at the heart of it all, we still pursue the same ends: pleasure, excitement, curiosity, stimulation, challenges. The medium changes; the endorphins don’t.

I put about as much stock in predictions of the future as I do in predictions for my fantasy football team: next to none. The future is like a tsunami that passes undetected under a boat that’s out at sea, and when the boat comes back to shore, the fisherman are shocked to see what has happened to their familiar village. We don’t realize that while we dream about it, we are actually living in it.

Most days, I write about something awesome at the corner of biblical faith and fantastical stories. But it is not this day, in which I speak again as a DC film fan and supporter of the #ReleaseTheSnyderCut fan movement for the movie Justice League.

Over the weekend, that hashtag trended on Twitter—a few weeks before Justice League theatrical version’s two-year anniversary.

That recently swelled fan response was spurred by cast and crew of the movie Justice League. They had released some behind-the-scenes bits that got fans all excited.

I don’t join a lot of fan movements. I’ll sleep tonight even though Firefly will never get a second season. I felt vexed at the notion of yanking Spider-Man back out of the Marvel-verse, but not enough to sign petitions about it. And, apart from supporting Young Justice season 3, I haven’t thought about even slacktivism to insist that my favorite cancelled show get another chance.

But the night after I saw Justice League‘s theatrical cut in theaters (in November 2017), I headed straight for the internet to find a petition to release the real movie. Two years later, the movement has only grown. They’ve posted banners near cons, started a website, and everything.

Stephen M. Colbert (DC fan, not TV comedian) summarizes the #ReleaseTheSnyderCut battle cry:

Justice League was well on its way to becoming aesthetically and tonally similar to Batman v Superman (although a lighter, more hopeful movie had been promised since before Batman v Superman even released) and Warner Bros. and DC Entertainment execs were tired of getting the same criticisms every time, so Snyder was finally pushed out of the project after completing 100% of principal photography and some post-production, and Joss Whedon reshot a large portion of it to change the story, brightening the lighting and colors, and adding more jokes. Fans were told [original director Zack] Snyder left due to a family tragedy (he did suffer the loss of his daughter during production) and Whedon would simply finish his existing vision, but it was very clear upon release that finishing Snyder’s vision hadn’t been the intent, and fans started campaigning for the movie Warner Bros. had promised them.

Those are the basic facts. But here’s why I support the hashtag and suggest that even Snyder critics should at least not get all grumpy about it.

1. No one is a raving fan of Justice League‘s theatrical version.

Some folks didn’t hate the theatrical (per)version of Justice League. But it has no raving fans.

Which makes little sense, if it were true that people really only wanted “fun” and “light” DC heroes without challenging themes and ideas.

Here on SpecFaith, for the series Justice League v the Legion of Doom, Kerry Nietz, Austin Gunderson, and I didn’t hate the film. We enjoyed quite a few parts of it. But we still lamented wasted opportunities:

Stephen: The characters are great. I love each and every one of them. But this rushed story and world around them felt shallow and empty. Sometimes literally. … Cities around them had no life. It needed another full hour. It needed Snyder’s deft hand in the editing and post-production.

Austin Gunderson: Steppenwolf was no match for Superman. That’s been the key strength of the previous films to me: that Superman wasn’t boring. I thought this movie managed to Make Superman Boring Again. Not because he was unlikable, but because he won so much I got tired of winning.

Kerry Nietz: If I had to name a fault, it would be in the stakes. They needed to create more of a sense of global peril. That could have been easily done with more small scenes in different locations. Possibly those are the types of things that were left on the cutting room floor.

By contrast, all (leaked) images and plot details from the originally planned film promise a far more epic and complex storyline.

2. Imagine if this same thing happened with Avengers: Endgame.

Imagine this—only just two hours long, with no seriousness and a dull soundtrack.

Let’s say that Avengers: Infinity War (2018) had been met with some controversy as well as enthusiastic fan-praise.

Or, even if not, suppose that Avengers directors Anthony and Joe Russo had already shot their three-hour epic hero-fest Avengers: Endgame. They’d begun early marketing and showed some amazing stuff in the trailers. The film’s score would be similar to previous films (from composer Alan Silvestri). And fans already knew to expect this three-hour epic that would celebrate united heroes and finally resolve the previous film’s cliffhanger.

But then suppose the Marvel producers had balked at the idea of releasing the movie like this.

Suppose they really, really didn’t want to spend the first 30–45 minutes of the movie showing how hopeless everything was.

And suppose that instead they cut down Tony Stark’s story, refused to let any hero die, and bluffed past consequences of the Decimation. Oh, and fired Silvestri and replaced him with John Debney (last seen doing his best with Iron Man 2).

Result: a shallow, two-hour version of Avengers: Endgame designed to avoid risks, please “masses,” and get shown more often in theaters.

You and I would have done our best to like it. But then we would have headed to the internet to join the movement #ReleasetheRussoCut.

3. Even if you disagree with #ReleaseTheSnyderCut, why deny fans the chance?

Let’s say you’re one of those chaps (including some of my friends) who despised Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. Like many fans (and critics), you associate the film with “grimdark” nastiness, or all the Wrong Ways people try to hijack superheroes.

Fair enough.

Either way, the DC films moved in the direction you said you wanted: with “fun” Aquaman (2018) and “fun” Shazam (2019). (I loved both.)

And the dream of an epic theatrical Justice League team-up film—much less a story split into two or even three parts—is now dead.

So it’s not like, if the Snyder Cut were actually released, that’s going to take away from those more crowd-pleasing DC hero films.

Aren’t you even the least bit curious if those “grimdark”-supporting fans were right, and the original, non-tampered Justice League would have been more to your liking? Especially when that risk comes with equal odds that #ReleasetheSnyderCut fans won’t really like what they see after they get it, anyway?

4. Anyhow, folks wrongly accused earlier DC Universe films of being ‘grimdark.’

Just another “grimdark” moment of killer awesomeness.

I’ve been around this debate a few times, partly as a DC fan, and partly because I’m also a fan of respecting story creator’s stated intentions.

In this case, when a creator says, “I made the story to do X,” then it’s unfair at best, and slanderous at worst, to act like they’re lying.

Back after Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice released, we shared this argument versus the “grimdark” accusation:

Austin: I think anyone who calls this movie “grimdark” probably doesn’t know what the word means. Wikipedia defines it as describing a “tone, style, or setting” that is “markedly dystopian or amoral, or particularly violent or realistic.” . . .

Batman v Superman dares to go where few superhero films have ever gone before: into a moral universe so similar to our own that even the good guys sometimes get it wrong. And only when the right choice isn’t blindingly obvious can a film such as this provide a meaningful commentary on the world.

Just another “grimdark” moment in which a sincere hero makes the ultimate sacrifice, and the story pauses for blatant celebration.

For a while I’ve claimed Man of Steel, Batman v Superman, and Justice League were/should have been perceived as nobledark:

A kind of epic fantasy meets grimdark in that the world is dangerous and horrific and scary, is stuck technologically because larger than life monsters tend to destroy everything every once in a while or the world is dying out for some reason, but there are noble warriors that rise up to protect people from the horrors and / or save the world.

Nobledark ≠ grimdark. Know the difference.

5. Either way, original Justice League would have been (or will be) amazing.

Folks who’ve tracked the #ReleasetheSnyderCut campaign have followed the behind-the-scenes “leaks” about what awesome twists, complexities, and heroic moments Zack Snyder’s originally planned Justice League would have offered fans.

And that’s after pushback that saw the film reduced from part-1-of-2, and made even “brighter” and into a more easily accessible standalone.

It’s just those “leaks” that have changed the minds of my friends and I.

We went from saying, “Well, Justice League as-is wasn’t that bad,” to lamenting “Yeah, we was robbed.”

Of course, I say that tongue-in-cheek. But recently, Kerry, Austin, and I talked again about our support of the #ReleasetheSnyderCut push:

Austin Gunderson: It’s really something to see. Time was when a Joss Whedon script physicking was a seal of quality. Now people are kickstarting grassroots campaigns to get his contributions expunged.

Kerry Nietz: It is a matter of tone and intent. What we got clearly wasn’t what was originally intended. So if you’re a fan of the other two movies, yeah, you’re going to wonder. And part of me suspects that Whedon was lackluster in being brought in the way he was. I imagine some Warner exec bringing him in and saying “Just make it like Avengers! We want Avengers!”

Stephen: Which, I’m sure, can’t have been impressive or respectful of him. Whedon can do “nobledark” when he jolly well wants to.

Austin: I dunno. I actually think Whedon’s pretty one-note. Which, granted, is a note that everybody typically loves, but I haven’t seen or heard of much from him that doesn’t fall into the crew-of-charming-rogues-crack-wise-and-chew-scenery-whilst-in-dire-peril category.

Kerry:

Austin: He was perfect for ‘The Avengers,’ because it was a movie about a crew of charming rogues cracking wise and chewing scenery whilst in dire peril … and nothing more than that.

But Justice League was in another league entirely. As the third in a series of dark, somber, mythopoetic examinations of superhero sociology, it needed to maintain a continuity of tone while upping the stakes. Whedon wouldn’t have been capable of doing that even if WB had prohibited him from straying from Snyder’s vision.

The strength of Man of Steel and Batman v Superman comes from their sincerity: Snyder really felt that he was making something epic and important, and he had sufficient skill to convey that sense instead of coming across as pretentious. But no one—no matter how skilled—can pull that off unless he himself has the degree of sincerity (innocence? faith?) he’s seeking to elicit in his audience.

People say that comedy is the hardest kind of writing because laughter is an objective metric. But I actually think that mythopoeia is dang hard, too, because of the degree of sincerity involved. Even the tiniest bit of cynicism—Whedon’s calling card—will kill it dead.

Stephen:But this also explains why the two films thus far met with such hostile reception.

Apart from any particular quibbles (e.g. Jonathan Kent would Never Say That, and Batman Would Never Ever Kill), the fan and critical response was influenced by particular expectations about how superhero movies should behave. And at least at the time, the zeitgeist declared that Marvel movies (or their perception of Marvel movies) were the in color, and anything else was last year’s fashion.

Of course, to the extent that these criticisms were based on vapid trend-following and –forecasting, they were not sustainable. The genre still had to grow up, and Batman v Superman and original Justice League were simply a few years ahead of trend.

*Artist’s representation.

Now, however, “serious” superhero films are becoming cool again. Studio meddling with “Justice League” showed people just exactly what they claimed to want—“lighter” DC movies—and it failed so hard. Then Marvel tried to “go dark” and epic in its own way—but only after winning fans’ trust on other terms. (Anyway, it’s doubtful we’ll get more Marvel films anytime soon with the scale and thematic sweep of Infinity War/Endgame.)

Meanwhile, Logan and now Joker have proven that you can try a more-serious (even R-rated) story inspired by superhero universes, and I think critics begrudgingly admitted the results worked. And DC hit its stride with Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Shazam. None of these has a bit of cynicism, and two of the directors even explicitly said so! Yet these films worked better as crowd-pleasers. They bridged the expectations gap. Now, people feel comfortable enough to be curious about the Justice League Snyder Cut.

I’m going to say it: I think it will happen, if not now, then sometime in a year or two.

#ReleaseTheSnyderCut. #UniteTheSeven. #MakeMyChristmas.

Samwise Gamgee, gardener from the Shire, is one of my all-time favorite characters. This unassuming hobbit embodies so much of what it means to be honorable, faithful, trustworthy, and honest. This speech from the end of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) speaks volumes to me:

Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam.

Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are.

It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy. How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened.

But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.

Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now.

Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.

I’d be willing to bet that anyone who has read a great novel has been forever impacted, even changed by it. Characters will travel with you as you trek through this journey called “life.” Trials faced by fictional characters help you cope with your own struggles. And sometimes, you even end up adopting some of the beliefs held by the heroes.

This is the power of storytelling.

Let me share a personal story from my own life. Years ago I read a book by Francine Rivers called Redeeming Love. Although my favorite genres are science-fiction and fantasy, I decided to try a romance novel because I had heard so many great things about this particular one.

It was a retelling of the story of Hosea from the Bible set in California in the 1850s. The main character feels a calling from God to marry a prostitute. Due to her horrible past of abuse, she did everything in her power to reject him, mock his faith, and tear him down. Yet he remained faithful. In the end, his unfailing love won her over and changed her life.

And mine as well. When I faced a difficult time in my marriage, it was that story of faithfulness that kept me going. I wanted to give up and quit so many times, but I knew that wasn’t what God wanted me to do. In many ways, I can credit Francine Rivers and her novel Redeeming Love for saving my marriage.  

Stories have a way of affecting us for good, or for evil. Some can uplift, others tear us down. But all have a way of shaping our thinking, our actions, and our culture. Just look at how TV shows and movies have impacted our country over the past fifty years.

One example is the show Will and Grace. Regardless of how we feel about LGBT issues, this show had a profound impact on culture. Vice President Joe Biden had this to say about the NBC sitcom: “Things really begin to change … when the social culture changes …. I think Will and Grace probably did more to educate the American public than almost anything anybody’s ever done so far.”

When talking about the impact of Star Wars, George Lucas said, “[Star War is] designed primarily to make young people think about the mystery. Not to say, ‘Here’s the answer.’ It’s to say, ‘Think about this for a second. Is there a God? What does God look like? What does God sound like? What does God feel like? How do we relate to God?’”

C.S. Lewis said, “The most dangerous ideas in a society are not the ones that are being argued, but the ones that are assumed.” I believe we are seeing a shift in our society. There is a growing number of people who don’t think through their beliefs. Instead, they ‘feel’ them. They find characters they like in a story (often TV or movies) and they adopt the worldview of that character because it ‘feels’ right. Since they like the character, and the character seems wise, they uncritically ‘assume’ what that character says as gospel truth.

As Christians in this cultural moment, we have the ability to do the same. We are image bearers of a creative God. We are made to create, not just consume. Christians should be on the front line of creating quality stories. After all, our model is the greatest story ever told. We can help readers see the world through a biblical lens or worldview.

I believe there is a hunger in the Christian community for stories that contain the excitement, thrill, and fantastic elements of Star Wars, Harry Potter, Marvel superheroes, etc, but that incorporate Christian elements, themes, and theology. I think we’ve all been there. How many times have you read a book or watched a great movie, only to be frustrated when the author suddenly inserts elements into the story that are blatantly anti-Christian?

I write in a genre I call apologetics fiction. It is fiction that weaves apologetics (answers to tough questions about God) into the plots in a way that helps the readers think through biblical concepts and issues. In particular, I write sci-fi apologetics fiction. One of my primary audiences are homeschooling families. Over the past twelve years, I’ve had numerous parents come up and thank me. They say things like, “My son wants to read Hunger Games, or Percy Jackson, or stuff like that, but I’m uncomfortable with some of the content. I’m concerned with the secular worldviews presented in them. Thank you for writing books that my son wants to read, and I can rest assured will draw him toward God, not away from Him.”

These parents recognize the power of storytelling to shape the attitudes and beliefs of their children. As followers of God, we need to be careful what we feed our minds. As Paul says in Philippians 4:8, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

Our culture has an increasing fascination with darkness. Recently, there have been a growing number of movies where the main characters are anti-heroes (Deadpool, Venom) or even villains (Suicide Squad, Joker). As much as we Christians are hungry for uplifting story, our culture is malnourished and starving for that which is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy.

Christian speculative fiction accomplishes many things. It can make the Christian faith plausible. It can point the reader to the good that we all long for. It can make Christianity attractive and desirable. It can impart Christian worldview and theology. It can strengthen the faith of a believer. In can play a part in watering the seed planted by others that may one day result in altering the eternal destiny of a person made in the image of God.

For writers, making these stories is a high calling indeed. Bathe it in prayer. Draw close to the One who gives talent, skill, and inspiration for all we do.

And for all of us as readers, we need to use discernment about the stories we digest. They can often be like catchy songs with bad lyrics. They invade our minds and spirits like viruses. We need to feed our souls with stories that are, in the words of that wise sage, Samwise Gamgee, “stories that really matter.”

I find myself running into a wall sometimes when trying to share my vision for Christian speculative fiction. I say that I think we should look for stories that point back to God and make use of our faith. To some people this sounds like me saying, “I think our stories should read like sermons. Or close.” Or, “Since I see some risks in fiction, that means I only want to write safe fiction.” But that’s not what I mean. I think faith can be a source of inspiration for story ideas and can produce some very interesting ones, based on us exploring notions that aren’t commonly examined at in the world of speculative fiction at large as it is now, which means taking risks at times. As an illustration of my point and a continuation of the Aliens in Science Fiction series, let me offer a specific story idea to illustrate one small patch of the the fertile ground Christian speculative fiction writers have available to us–vast areas of story ideas that are both centered in our faith and which are also unusual/original. Note this post is an adapted and re-edited version of a personal blog post I first write in 2013.

My original post focused on the world “Rapture” as commonly used by Christian Evangelicals, but in fact the Rapture isn’t that important to the story idea I’m discussing. What is important to the idea is the so called “Tribulation,” a period of terrible suffering seen to be in the future. During the Tribulation a wicked ruler will have complete control over Planet Earth, who will deceive those who live there. That concept is important to the story idea I’m offering up for discussion here.

And before someone who is not Evangelical or not at least not a conventional one starts saying the futurist understanding of the Book of Revelation is a relatively recent thing and there’s no real reason to believe it’s valid, I would recommend that you read City of God by Augustine who saw both symbolic and futurist meanings in Revelation, managing to in effect believe in a literal Tribulation (though he saw the two periods of 3 1/2 years as happening at the same time, so he thought the Tribulation will be half of seven years) and a literal return of Jesus and a literal establishment of Jesus’s eternal reign on a literal new heaven and new earth, without talking about “Rapture” at all and while at the same time seeing the Millennium as referring to the triumph of the Church at present (making him a hybrid of modern Post- and A- millennial thinking…and also most definitely a futurist on interpreting most of Revelation).

And in any case, this revolves around a story idea–story ideas in science fiction or other speculative genres should not be obviously false as in self-contradictory, but it’s legitimate for a story to wonder about things that a person might believe cannot happen. But if they happen anyway, then what?

The Rapture loomed large in the Left Behind series (which I managed to read four volumes of before getting bogged down in how mediocre and slow-paced the series is) which saw the Rapture as ushering in the Tribulation. But again, it’s entirely possible in terms of what is not intellectually self-contradictory that the Tribulation could come without a Rapture. So again, the Rapture isn’t really important to this story idea.

During the Tribulation, “futurist” interpreters of Revelation generally believe that a person (some have interpreted it as an empire or kingdom rather than a person) called the “Beast” in Revelation 13 and elsewhere “the Antichrist” will rule over the doomed but defiant human realm. This standard scenario has been written about exhaustively by Christian writers, not only in the futurist-but-not-very-speculative Left Behind series.

I’ve heard the suggestion floated that perhaps the unbelieving world will ascribe the sudden disappearance of so many believers in the Rapture that LaHaye and Jenkins write about to aliens abducting them. Let’s run with this idea to help us generate a concept strikingly different that what Left Behind did.

Imagine a portrayal of the Antichrist in which he publicly proclaims that not only did aliens snatch up the Christians, but that aliens were responsible for existence of Christianity in the first place. (Or non-Rapture, he simply claims Christianity came from aliens.) If you read the account of God coming down on Mount Sinai to meet Moses in fire and smoke, it sounds almost like a rocket landing. And UFO-ologists have long maintained the “wheel within a wheel” of Ezekiel chapter 1 is a description of a UFO.

The figure of the Antichrist in this story idea would say these events were exactly that—aliens trying to reach humanity in ancient times. And these aliens were a wicked race, because they, being birdlike (which is why angels are portrayed and having wings, he would say) naturally mate for life and found themselves repulsed by human beings who very often do anything but mate for life between males and females. SO these aliens interfered in our culture, trying to rewrite human behavior through the monotheistic religions—especially Christianity—in order to suppress our “natural” sexuality. The Antichrist would claim these aliens would be the ones responsible for the miracles of Jesus (through high tech illusions and cures for diseases) and other signs in the Bible that supported the founding of these Abrahamic religions in the first place.

This deliberate cultural engineering on the part of sinister aliens, intolerant aliens, sheer bigots! would be portrayed as the reason the Bible has harsh words about homosexuality and “falsely” portrays monogamy as the natural state of human beings—what’s natural to human beings, the Antichrist would say, would be to enjoy one another in any way we desire (in my story, “other aliens” would have appeared to the Antichrist, explaining all of this, offering to “help” him and all of humanity)…

The Antichrist should be portrayed for the most part in the way he would portray and think of himself, as a compassionate and powerful human leader, rallying the human race against what he convincingly calls sinister alien forces attacking the Earth repeatedly. In fact, many passages of Revelation, in which a “burning mountain” is said to fall on the Earth (chapter 9), raising up an army of a weird creature only a like locust from “the Bottomless Pit” immediately followed by creatures reminiscent of centaurs (but not), rather sound like an alien invasion.

He would overtly rally people against these invaders and any Christians around after that would be seen as filthy traitors, saboteurs loyal to the enemy, worth of death, since they are in league with the aliens. The mark of 666 would be deliberately and openly used to flush out believers, based on its mention in Revelation 13 and the commandment there not to take the mark (making it a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy). People would willingly and gratefully line up to mark themselves with “666,” eager to prove they are loyal to the human race and its cause…

As a leader that looks askance at Christianity and its doctrines, the Antichrist would first find it easy to make an alliance with Israel, forgiving their loosely practiced monotheism, since they are in fact an overwhelmingly secular state. But once he realizes they do not intend to fully come along with his social program to “re-humanize” religion, which would include forced acceptance of Paganism and its sexual rituals (“the original human religion,” he would say), he would deliberately defile whatever he can that’s holy in Judaism and eventually assembles an army to invade Israel.

When the army of heaven descends to meet him at the literal battle of Armageddon, in my story the Antichrist proclaims it’s a host of aliens attacking from above and we humans need to do all we can to fight them—like we so often see portrayed in science fiction movies, such as Independence Day, the Avengers, etc. Noble humans facing overwhelming odds against alien invaders, but doing so with courage, because they’d be fighting for the fate of Planet Earth.

One portrayal of the Battle of Armageddon. Image copyright, Miguel G. Peña.

Note this story would feature characters who would find these explanations persuasive. The story itself could present the arguments that God in an alien invader in the strongest possible terms…until the end of the tale. Explanations so persuasive that even believers in the story would wonder if they hadn’t been duped by a God who continually seems to rain down judgment from above…as if from orbit…as if He were, in fact, an alien.

Such a story might run the risk of a reader drawing the conclusion that God really is an extraterrestrial of the Ancient Aliens sort (not as in the series I once wrote for Speculative Faith about God being an “alien” as in non-human), but the risk would be worth it to portray a compelling Antichrist, instead of the cardboard cut-out of a villain used by the Left Behind series and other Christian ficiton. Which would have the potential of causing someone to really think about Revelation has to say, while also still making meaningful references to and multiple portrayals of faith during the Tribulation…

Say, did you by chance miss Lorehaven magazine’s fall 2019 issue? Or not get your free subscription for it?

Then guess what: this newest issue is free for everyone to read. Really. Browse every review and article, PDF download included.

You’ll also get more curated guest articles from authors of books we’ve loved, such as Sharon Hinck’s article last month, or Keith A. Robinson’s article coming this Friday.

Meanwhile, here’s a glimpse at what else we’re giving away: a few hints of what’s ahead for Lorehaven in the coming year.

1. Better graphics.

We’ve already begun rolling out changes to covers and interior layout. Watch for more in the winter 2019 and especially spring 2020 issues.

2. More book reviews.

Each Lorehaven issue includes at least twelve reviews from our fantastical review team. (Only exception: fall 2019! We needed more space to explore Enclave Publishing’s out-of-this-world stories.) We’ll keep aiming for that total. But each issue goes beyond with longer reviews for cover-story authors and sponsored reviews for other books. As our team grows, we plan to make even more reviews available.

Read the whole fall 2019 issue of Lorehaven magazine.

3. Open access to back issues.

When the fall 2019 issue released, some readers had trouble finding their password. Right now, that password is a single, simple word for all. The system won’t allow custom password-setting. Yet. Anyway, this proved challenging.

So we plan to release the winter 2019 issue for all to read—even without that free subscription.

Then, starting next year, we’ll throw open the entire Lorehaven magazine back-list for anyone to read.

That is, every Lorehaven issue, except the newest issue, will be open even to readers who aren’t free subscribers.

4. Easier-to-find book reviews.

This project might not take much. Or it might take a lot of work.

Either way, I’m thinking we can better pair Lorehaven‘s reviews with matching books listed in the comprehensive Lorehaven library.

Lord willing, we’ll see those site improvements added in early 2020 if not earlier.

5. Lorehaven will go on the road.

My first published book is actually nonfiction (and with coauthors Ted Turnau and Jared Moore!).

It’s called The Pop Culture Parent: Helping Kids Engage Their World for Christ. It will debut spring 2020 from New Growth Press.

All marketing aside, I shan’t simply let folks publish this fine tome, then sit back and watch the thousands of dollars dozens of dimes roll in.

Instead, I’m going on the road. So far, two Christian writing conferences have invited me to join their faculty in 2020.

Perhaps more events will follow.

Wherever I go, Lord willing, I’ll take The Pop Culture Parent (with its great theme of exploring how Christian parents can best train up their children to discern/enjoy popular culture to worship Christ as his church, and share his love with their neighbors).

And I’ll bring Lorehaven magazine, with all its fantastic reviews and articles that help us find the best in Christian-made fantastical stories.

6. More opportunities to share these great stories.

Honestly, folks, I don’t speak much of my “long game” because, out of context, it can sound weird. Or even sleazy. Like some direct-marketing website with all-caps sentence fragments, single-word paragraphs, and blinking GIFs.

But here it is: all this time, I’ve hoped that Speculative Faith, and now sister-project Lorehaven, would help do more than promote certain authors’ books.

And do more than provide a gathering place for writers interested in hobby-talk or professional development.

And especially rise above the risk of having a website that merely provides a venue for young Christians to murmur against their Amish-crazed elders who Keep Fantasy From Being Represented in The Evangelical World.

Yes, there’s a place for that—in the remedial classrooms. But if we stay in those rooms, we’ll never learn more, much less graduate.

This is partly why, although I still attempt fiction projects (and rarely speak about them!), I’ve developed parallel ambitions for nonfiction work about fiction. That’s intentional. I’ve wanted to explore the very idea of stories from a biblical perspective, and in so doing, help find some avenues for sharing these stories we all know and love with the broader Christian communities that still haven’t found them!

That’s why Lorehaven is fully advertiser-supported. So far, just about everything paid for magazine ads (click for more info) and sponsored reviews (click for more info) goes directly to the review writers, page designers, and printing costs.

Travel costs? Weeks of labor during the days, on evenings, and weekends? Our hard-working staff is donating that: editor Elijah David, review chief Austin Gunderson, and book clubs coordinator Steve Rzasa as well as everyone on the review team: the incomparable Avily Jerome, Elizabeth Kaiser, Shannon McDermott, Audie Thacker, and Phyllis Wheeler. (Here’s the complete cast of credits.)

I’m also donating my time. Sure, I hope to do this full-time with my writing. It’s all the same for me.

But blimey, I’ll tell you, many days, this ministry is rough.

However—for the greater reward of sharing more of these amazing stories to glorify Jesus to my spiritual family and beyond?

Priceless.

7. BONUS: We’re also doing this. Coming in 2020.

Add to our hard-working staff my real-life regional friend and writing brother, Zackary Russell.

Zack writes science fiction, parents four amazing children, and creates videos and short films for a Christian campus ministry.

More recently, Zack has been on a worthy side quest to uncover these MacGuffins:

Yes indeed. Coming in 2020, you’ll be able to subscribe to Lorehaven’s podcast on all your favorite platforms.

We’ll talk books and themes. We’ll interview authors and book reviewers with great voices. And we’ll keep finding truth in fantastic stories.

Which podcasts do you enjoy, especially for book fans and readers?

What would you like to hear from a Lorehaven podcast?

And of course, what should the podcast’s ultimate theme music be—if royalty rights were not an issue?

Godspeed!

E. Stephen Burnett