The CW series The Flash, whose first season finished in May, has helped restore good supportive fathers to television.

While many media portrayals still focus on dumb, debased and dysfunctional dads, The Flash took a surprisingly different course by telling the story of a character that was powered as much by the love of two fathers as he was by the Speed Force.

From dumb to dysfunctional

Once this concept seemed impossible. For several decades, television’s portrayals of fathers have tended to be negative: bullies like Archie Bunker, buffoons like Chester Riley and Homer Simpson, and nameless, absent dads whose past abuses cast dark shadows over the lives of their children.

This seems to be especially true in fantasy and science fiction, in which the number of characters with absent, dead, or abusive fathers is stunning:

• In Star Trek: The Next Generation, Captain Jean-Luc Picard became a Starfleet officer over the objection of his backward and old-fashioned father.
• In 1980s Marvel Comics, Jennifer Walters (She-hulk) began a downward spiral into violence and immersing herself in the power of She-hulk in the comics, early in her run due to an overbearing and emotionally distant father.

This trend is also seen in Russell T. Davies’ revival of Doctor Who. The most positive portrayal of a father, in the Series 1 Episode “Father’s Day,” has Rose save her dad, Pete, in 1987. But this sets off a paradox that threatened to destroy the planet and is only resolved when Pete allows himself to be hit by the car and restores history. Even in this episode we learn Pete is a flirt who is unreliable and irresponsible. He states that if he had lived, he would have let Rose down time and time again, and we’re given little reason to disbelieve it.

Series 2 featured “The Idiot’s Lantern,” with an abusive and controlling father who lords over his wife and children in 1952; and “Fear Her,” in which a girl is traumatized by her memory of her sexually abusive father–which serves as a fodder for an alien invasion.

Series 3 featured Martha Jones’ father, whose tasteless flaunting of his new girlfriend and whose trashy needless fights with his ex-wife show little concern for his kids.

Not every negative portrayal of a father shows him to be a bad person. Sometimes, he is simply unsupportive.

In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker had the ultimate bad dad in Darth Vader. But he was also raised by Uncle Owen, whose efforts to shelter Luke and keep him safe from the sort of horror his dad had suffered leave Luke a frustrated young man who keeps getting put off by promises that he can go to the Academy next season. Were it not for stormtroopers who destroy his aunt and uncle’s farm, Luke could have spent the rest of his life waiting for a chance that never came.

Fathers and ‘The Flash’ (1990s)

In a similar way, in the 1990 TV series The Flash, Henry Allen is a retired police officer. Barry’s older brother Jay is killed by his former partner. Barry secretly developed the powers of The Flash, and in a heartbreaking scene, he comes to ask for Dad’s blessing to find his brother’s killer (though without revealing his powers). But his dad denies the blessing and shoots him down: “Well, I can’t, Barry. You’re all we’ve got left.”

The words and the delivery assure us that Henry loves his son, but he has no confidence in him whatsoever.

Why are these father relationships so prevalent in science fiction television stories? For some, the reasons may be ideological or part of a tradition of attacking authority. For most, the reasons probably reflect personal dynamics of the writers, the people they know, and their target audience–especially as the number of children being raised without any father continues to grow. So many people know the pain of absent, abusive, irresponsible, overbearing,  and discouraging fathers, and therefore they relate to these portrayals and are led to sympathize with the main characters.

However, such one-sided views of dads can lead to a distorted view of fathers and fatherhood. It tends to suggest fathers are not only unnecessary but harmful.

Awesome dads are back

Thankfully, 2010s television has shifted to better portrayals of fathers. Series 6 of Doctor Who had not one but three different episodes that extol the value of a father who loves and respects his children. Series 7 introduced Rory’s Dad, Brian Williams, who was one of the most lovable and positive family members portrayed in all of Doctor Who.

And perhaps the most remarkable series was the latest superhero hit from CW, The Flash. The Henry Allen of this new series has little in common with the crusty retired cop of its 1990s counterpart. In the new The Flash we find portraits of not only one but two loving father figures.

‘The Flash’ father 1: Henry Allen

Barry Allen first appeared as The Flash in a 1956 comic. But the newer scenario of the CW series appeared in 2011 comics with the latest reboot of the DC Universe.

In Flash #0, Barry’s mother was murdered when he was a child and away at a spelling bee. Barry then dedicated his life to finding evidence to prove his dad innocent. In the first pages of the comic, Henry pleads with his son to move on. “I’m imprisoned but you’re the one living like you’re behind bars.” Henry finally tells Barry that he’s guilty just so he’ll move on with his life, though Barry sees through this by the end of the issue.

This portrayal proved central to how Henry Allen appears in the TV show. He’s wrongfully imprisoned, but he believes his own situation comes second. Following the idea of the comics, when Barry is a child, Henry asks his old friend, Joe West, stop Barry from coming to see him in prison so Barry can move beyond the tragic death of his mother and live his life. Then without being told, Henry figures out that Barry Allen is the Flash and expresses his pride in his son.

Near the end of The Flash season 1 (beware spoilers), Barry gets the chance to go back in time to stop his mother’s death and prevent his father from being put in prison. But Henry opposes the idea of Barry changing history. Henry feels that tampering with time would also tamper with what had made Barry who he was.

“You’re always a hero, and your mom would be just as proud,” Henry tells his son. “And if she had a say in this, if she thought for one second that you going back to save her would mean losing what makes you so special, she would never want that!”

‘The Flash’ father 2: Joe West

When Henry went to prison, Barry was taken in by Joe West, also a police sergeant, who became like a second father to him.

Throughout the first season, their relationship deepens as Joe shares Barry’s superhero secret identity. Throughout his life, Joe has tried to be sensitive and to avoid seeming to subvert Henry’s place in Barry’s heart. Yet, we learn when we Barry was in a coma and almost died, Joe refers to him as “my son.” And when given the chance to change history, Barry simply says: “I was born with one father, but that tragedy gave me two.”

In the season 1 finale, “Fast Enough,” the time-traveling Reverse Flash explains he had wanted to kill Barry’s younger self. When that failed, he decided to make the young Barry suffer a tragedy “so horrible, so traumatic” that he would never recover. But ironically, the Reverse Flash’s plan is defeated by the “second father” resulting from that tragedy — Joe West.

Joe was reluctant to take Barry as he was already widower and a single father, but in doing so, he found Barry had an unexpected effect on his family. “I mean, you brightened up everything,” Joe says. “You’ve seen more darkness than any man will in a lifetime and you never let it dim your soul. So there I was thinking that I’m changing your life by taking you in, but the truth is, you changed mine.”

At the same time, Joe is willing to challenge Barry and tell him when he’s wrong, but in a way that respects that he’s an adult. In “Rogue Air,” Barry asks Captain Cold to help transfer four metahumans from Star Labs to one of Oliver Queen’s private islands. Despite Joe’s warnings, Barry trusts Captain Cold and he gets burned.

But after this, though Joe once tells Barry, “I told you so,” Joe only exhorts his adopted son. He calls Barry to be the type of man Joe knows him to be, the type of man Barry proved to be by even caring what happened to these four supervillains. “You know the difference between right and wrong, and you weren’t willing to blur the lines between the two,” Joe says. “That’s the kind of man you are and that’s what makes you different than The Arrow. So, please, no more walks on the dark side.”

In season 1, Joe’s opinion matters to both Barry and Joe’s daughter Iris. When Eddie wants to ask Iris to marry him, he asks for Joe’s blessing first. While Eddie like this is a formality, when Joe declines to give a pre-approval to Eddie’s proposal, Eddie all but breaks out into his own version of the song “Rude,” as he knows Joe’s blessing would help assure a “yes” from Iris.

Joe’s opinion isn’t important to the lives of the children he raised because he controls every aspect of their life but because he’s built relationships and trust with them. His reason for refusing to bless Eddie’s planned proposal was not a power play but because he knew Barry and Iris and knew that she really loved Barry.

Of course, Joe’s influence could be both for good and bad. Joe’s opposition to Iris knowing Barry’s secret identity was the only reason Barry kept it from her. And this led to a lot of tension and jeopardized that trust, but didn’t destroy it because good relationships have enough room for forgiveness and are strong enough to survive errors.

While Henry would stand to be the biggest winner if Barry changed the past, Joe would stand to be the biggest loser as he would not get to raise Barry. Despite this, his advice was for Barry to go for it, to change the past so he would grow up with both parents. “You saved a lot of people’s lives this past year. Now it’s time to save yours.”

Joe and Henry aren’t perfect, but they give dads and men who want to be dads a lot of food for thought. In them, we have a picture of two courageous fathers willing to sacrifice what’s for their best for them for the best of their children. In Joe, we see a man who has invested himself deeply in his children. Both paint a picture of fatherhood that shows how much of a blessing a good father can be.

Recently we’ve had some interesting discussions here at Spec Faith about the horror genre, in part because of guest posts by author Mike Duran discussing his new nonfiction book, Christian Horror.

I’d venture to say there’s a consensus that darkness needs to show up in our stories. The central fantasy trope, for example, is the struggle between good and evil. One of the things that made The Lord Of The Rings so compelling was the struggle Frodo undertook to destroy the growing evil.

So as I look at the discussion, I’m thinking, what is the point of departure between those who read and write horror and those who don’t? From my perspective, the answer is “focus.” But I hear others saying something different.

One view (all quotes may be found in the comments section of either “Continuing The Horror Conversation” or “Seeing In The Cave”) is that horror is devalued:

It’s just odd to me how many of these articles come down against horror. If speculative fiction of the sci/fi fantasy is … like, horror is the redheaded stepchild in the less-reputable side of the family.

I’ve admitted this was my previous stand. I now believe horror has a place in the catalog of Christian fiction. At the same time, I think some of the reasons people offer as justification of horror is suspect.

One such justification is that Christian fiction traditionally has focused on what is safe and clean:

Mostly, it is a reaction to an industry of over-sanitized, “safe,” “inspirational,” “family-friendly” fare. The leap isn’t so much TO horror as it is AWAY from fiction that avoids realism and darkness.

And this from another commenter:

I’m not sure how they can show the light more. I mean, a lot of the problem of current Christian spec fic is that they don’t really engage with anything but the coziest, surface-level form of showing the evangelistic journey . . .

I think the idea of Christian horror is good in one sense that it’s possible to make Christian fiction more complex and adult in a plot sense. I can understand disliking gore or hard stuff, and not wanting a diet of it, but the problem with the light side is that it has all the substance of a cozy mystery about a detective and his cats. I don’t think it’s impossible to make clean, complex fiction, but I haven’t seen many good examples of it.

Perhaps these two comments strike at the heart of what I believe about Christian speculative fiction: an exploration of evil isn’t the answer to the problem of Christian fiction that doesn’t engage the world, or really even Christians, on more than a superficial level. Exploring the light is.

In truth, I think this approach is consistent with what Scripture tells us. Perhaps the sternest indictment comes in the book of Jeremiah:

“For My people are foolish,
They know Me not;
They are stupid children
And have no understanding.
They are shrewd to do evil,
But to do good they do not know.” (4:22)

I think we could just as truthfully say, They are shrewd to write about evil (or to explore evil), but to write about (or explore) good, they don’t know how.

One commenter said as much:

I can think of ways to write about Christians, but writing about God’s love beyond simple evangelism stumps me.

I don’t think this idea is unique to this one writer. At the same time, I think, Ah, but there is so much more about God than just His love. For instance, we live in a culture that has increasingly denied the concept of a just God bringing judgment against those who stand against Him. Where are the stories that show a just God acting in wrath against evil? We have stories in which the heroes fight in order to survive, but who fights in order to judge the darkness?

C. S. Lewis was masterful in addressing themes that went beyond God’s love, though clearly, he didn’t hesitate to show that aspect of His nature as well. One of Lewis’s most famous lines, in fact, became so well known because it made people think about God in a new way (He’s not safe, I tell you …)

His more imaginative fiction—The Great Divorce, Screwtape Letters, Til We Have Faces—dealt with things like the reality of heaven and the reality of the spiritual in daily life and loving God more than others, even when we don’t understand what God is doing. His space trilogy does explore man’s condition, but in the first two volumes does so in comparison to holiness and purity. Only in That Hideous Strength does Lewis focus on man’s sinful nature as well as spiritual forces of evil.

In short, Lewis did not write “cozy speculative fiction.” Even his children’s books are laden with truth about God and His work in the world and with humankind. He addresses creation, death, the effect of sin, end times, obedience, God’s severe mercy, and much more.

Why, I wonder, have contemporary writers departed from this rich legacy? Why do we see the only answer to cozy stories to be an exploration of evil?

I’m a sucker for extraterrestrials. I loved reading conspiracy theory books about Area 51 and Project Blue Book when I was younger. I even faked a very convincing UFO photograph utilizing a discarded hubcap I found in a field. And of course, the movies.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind was on Turner Classic Movies the other night (people give me strange looks when I sculpt my mashed potatoes at dinner). I prefer the more aggressive alien movies like Independence Day and the TV show Falling Skies, but it’s nice to have a balance. Heck, I even watch the comedy romp Paul when it comes on.

There was one scene in Paul that never sat right with me. Kristen Wiig plays a jittery Christian who is only a few inches away from brainwashed-cult-fanatic. She spouts some very Bible Belt-inspired phrases in dealing with the intrusion of three aliens into her narrow worldview, although only one of the aliens is actually from outer space. See, the others are two nerds from England, and they’re technically aliens since they’re not from the USA, so it’s like a play on words…never mind…

Anyway, the scene in question involves the alien named Paul placing his hand on Kristen Wiig’s forehead and transferring all of his spacey knowledge into her brain. It’s quite a shock to her system and instantaneously convinces her that her Christian beliefs are a total sham. This in turn prompts her to start groping people and use foul language, but that’s neither here nor there.

Every time I watch that scene, I wonder: why does the existence of Paul negate a belief in God? Would proof of intelligent alien life end the world’s religions? If Klaatu landed in Central Park, what exactly would that mean for us as Christians?

This debate is nothing new, and so far, its only fuel is speculation. Skeptics and supporters point to Bible verses that could either be talking about invading hordes from other planets or demonic forces running wild across the Earth (Ezekiel 1, Isaiah 13:5, Revelation 9:7-11, etc.). The Bible does not explicitly refer to life on other planets, or even implicitly for that matter. From a strictly Scriptural perspective, it appears that this planet is the only world in God’s universe with intelligent life, and all other entities live in the supernatural dimension (angels, demons, those who have died). Does this mean there are no aliens? Logically it does not, just as the Bible does not mention black holes or string theory but that is not an argument against these concepts.

Secular scientists take the existence of alien life as a given. I mean, I would too if I started from an atheistic viewpoint. Have you seen that photo making the rounds on the internet recently, the one being labeled as “the largest photo ever taken”? It’s a close-up of a chunk of the night sky and it is staggering. Thousands of galaxies, each containing billions of stars, all contained within a tiny fragment of the sky. Statistically speaking, if life could develop by chance here on Earth, it’s preposterous to think that the same thing wouldn’t happen on at least one of the innumerable worlds out there. Of course, the crux of this argument is exactly how life came to exist on this world, but that’s another discussion.

One thing is clear from the Scriptures – that God is Lord of all creation. If aliens did exist, they would be created by God. Their existence would surely be a head-scratcher but that wouldn’t be enough to make me forsake my faith. But would they be cursed by man’s sin, since “all of creation groans” (Romans 8:22)? If they had the ability to traverse the galaxy, they would have to be highly intelligent and likely made in the image of God as we are. Would it be fair for them to be cursed by our transgressions? Would they be fallen of their own accord? Would they even be fallen at all?

These questions are entirely unanswerable in our present reality, and it’s easy to get lost down a rabbit hole in this debate. The discovery of intelligent alien life, or any life at all, would certainly send the world into a tizzy, but it’s not an automatic stake in the heart of a theistic belief system, though many people certainly hope it would be. Right now, there are hundreds of brilliant people anxiously searching the stars and scanning the radio waves, desperately yearning for contact like a lovesick damsel in a fairy tale looking out her window for the handsome prince to come and make her dreams come true. They’re all looking for the answer to one simple question: are we alone in the universe?

The answer is just as simple: no, we’re not. And we don’t need a telescope to find out.

So Chris Pratt has made some comments about praying to God and love of country and things, according to a post from a former U.S. congressman’s website that was frequently shared over the weekend, via another culturally/politically conservative blog.

Amusingly, the websites said Pratt’s remarks about praying for his premature son were “just” and “recently,” implying these remarks are new. But Pratt actually said this in a July 30, 2014 interview with People magazine.

Another website’s headline said an undefined “they” told Pratt to “keep Jesus off the set,” a phrase used in quotes. But I’ve never heard that phrase before about Pratt, and the site does nothing to substantiate the claim.

Original image source.

So these are some factual challenges to the “recent” hype. Perhaps someone had sat on this older story until Pratt was back in the headlines thanks to last weeks’ release of Jurassic World. Doesn’t matter. Now evangelicals are all prepared to make him their new leader just because Pratt has a “cloak” of fame.

My responses:

1. Folks with “cloaks” of fame shouldn’t automatically be made leaders.

“You have a cloak; you shall be our leader, and this heap of ruins shall be under your rule” (Isaiah 3:6).

Evangelicals, can we stop giving that kind of response to every celebrity who professes some kind of God-honoring belief?

2. Let’s not sound so desperate.

“How desperate are you that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?”

Christ’s kingdom is built not first by talented celebrities operating outside visible local churches, but His “ordinary” faithful adopted sisters and brothers who serve him within visible local churches.

3. I missed the parts about the actual Jesus Christ.

From what I can tell, Pratt has said nothing to support the claim that he is a biblical Christian. He’s only spoken about God, ‘Murica, guns, and family values. That’s nice, and we should not require overt John 3:16-statements from every Christian celebrity at every time. But let’s not pretend this the same thing as the Gospel of Christ crucified and resurrected.

4. Lifestyle contradictions much?

Pratt also drinks and acts drunk, gleefully states “bad words” in interviews and film roles (the People interview about his restored faith includes a hearty “damn”), and gets pumped and topless in movies.

Once evangelicals board the new Pratt hype train and arrive at the station, disembark, and actually see some of those movies, perhaps we can re-evaluate two of our assumptions about professing Christian (or God-believing) celebrities?

1. We suspect we should actually condemn this behavior from professing evangelical celebrities, or
2. We should wholly ignore/excuse this behavior because it’s not convenient for a “culture war.”

From Christian Celebrity Mascots: The Dangers of Conversion Without Transformation at Christ and Pop Culture:

The evangelical Christian community has a history of glamorizing conversion stories not only when that conversion falls from the lips of a celebrity, but perhaps particularly so in those instances, because many evangelical Christians have adopted a team mentality within the Church. Those outside said team are not necessarily regarded as enemies, but they are certainly regarded as “other.”  When someone lifts a toe over the finger-drawn line in the sand dividing “Christian” and “Not Christian,” it’s easy to exalt the act as a testimony of faith. It works well for the Christian agenda (which exists), and, when the person in question has a checkered past, lends itself well to the point many Christians are trying desperately to prove: Christians need not be of a cookie-cutter design.

5. Can we not endorse this kind of pop-cultural pragmatism?

Do we want to support Pratt because we think he is effectively training raptors to sic on our enemies (and not because raptor-training is an intrinsically cool image)? If so, our motive is lame, un-creative, and ultimately inhumane in a non-God-glorifying way.

6. Pratt doesn’t need to be a Christian for Christians to be his fans.

So far, Chris Pratt has proved an overall awesome and talented human being, both in his recent films (The Lego Movie, Guardians of the Galaxy, Jurassic World) and in multiple interviews. We can enjoy Pratt’s reflection of God’s image as a human and an exceptionally creative human, and we can enjoy the fantastical cinematic stories he helps tell, without feeling we must automatically declare him a Christian.

7. And finally, a moment of lightness.

Chris Pratt could eat no fat
His wife could eat no lean
And so betwixt the two of them
They chewed up the scene.¹

Realm Makers is excited to announce the books that came out on top after the readers’ choice semi-final round for the Clive Staples Award for Christian Speculative fiction.

The following three books have advanced to the final round:

Reapers by Bryan Davis

The Seventh Door by Bryan Davis

The Warden And The Wolf King by Andrew Peterson

A panel of judges will independently score these books on their merit. The book that garners the highest point total from the judges will receive a prize of a commemorative plaque and $250 cash. Realm Makers is excited to sponsor this award that represents a cross section of both readers’ preference and professional artistic evaluation.