Now that we have defined some basic terms about cosplay–in part 1, Cosplay 101 for the Confused Christian–we can talk about common misapprehensions and myths about cosplay.

‘But isn’t cosplay mostly about flouncing around and showing off boobies?’

No.

When some years back a popular homicide drama set an episode at a costume convention, they spiced up the script by emphasizing kinky meetups and fetishes. But the cosplay community spent the next year rolling our eyes and repeating endlessly, No, that’s not really the point.

Cosplay is about sharing enthusiasm for media and creative interpretations of it. You may hear the phrase, “No costume is no costume,” meaning nudity isn’t costuming.

Are there people who sell photos in skimpy cosplay-inspired lingerie? Of course, just as there are people who sell similar photos outside of cosplay. But they are no more representative of the hobby and community as a whole than Playboy’s swimsuit issue is to beaches and swimmers.

Cosplay is about becoming someone else. It’s performance art. Here my sister, Alena, plays Nathan Drake from the “Uncharted” game series.

‘What does it mean when a cosplayer picks a villain to play?’

C’mon—did you ever want to be Darth Vader or Boba Fett when playing with friends? Did you ever enact your bad-guy toys smashing a building block and LEGO bricks town? Yeah.

Without my going into a dissertation on the history of social masquerade and role-play through the millennia, suffice it to say that there is a long tradition of exploring social mores through costumes, masks, and playacting.

For every rare sociopath who chooses to play a Nazi because he has disturbed socio-political views of his own, there are hundreds who play Red Skull because they want to interact with Captain America cosplayers or want the technical challenge of the prosthetics and makeup.

Would you question the social behavior of an actor who played a villain on film or onstage? If not, then why question someone who plays a similar role at another event?

Just as every villainous character comes from within the writer and yet the writer is not necessarily villainous in real life, cosplay is not a single-dimension snapshot of a person’s character and beliefs. The 501^st Legion is perhaps the best-known cosplay charity, and it’s composed entirely of Star Wars villains!

Alena again, this time playing Marguerite St. Just.

‘But shouldn’t you grow out of it? What is it good for?’

Ah, that ancient question of justifying the existence of art, whatever its form.

Fortunately, cosplay develops quite a lot of marketable skills.

We can start with the obvious avenues into professional work. I have a number of friends who have, through cosplay, found positions in theater, on film sets, on television and web series, on cruise ships, at promotional events, and more.

However, leaving those aside, cosplay also helps build social and professional skills. Many shy or introverted fans find it far easier to start a conversation from one character to another and then can transition into making new friends behind the mask or makeup.

One friend of mine had never done any public speaking until cosplay took her onstage to perform in competitions. When she was asked to do a presentation at work, she felt a rush of panic. And then, she told me, she just thought about a cosplay skit and imagined herself onstage. And she nailed the presentation and got a commendation from her boss with a request to do more.

Likewise, another friend, who had done little public speaking, started by coming offstage with hands shaking and heart racing. Now he can improv in front of hundreds of people.

Cosplay does more for teens and college students than any speech class I’ve seen.

And then there are the life skills of learning to budget time and money, learning to recycle and upcycle, learning to think outside the box and to train in new techniques. In our cosplay workshops we always introduce the Law of Resources: There are Fast, Cheap, and Good, and you can choose any two of the three. This rule applies not just to cosplay but to all of life!

And finally, cosplay is yet another expression of the creativity we bear as part of the image of God our Creator. Just as with the stories we enjoy, cosplay allows us to create and share stories. And that is not something we outgrow and leave behind with childhood—it is a part of what makes us human and children of God.

Does this sound fun? Go ahead and think of a few characters you might like to play. I’d love to see your work!

Our new website is live as of Monday. This gives you a few more features, now and later:

1. Speculative Faith and Lorehaven are now both part of the same web network.
2. For clarity: Speculative Faith, with its own landing page here, is the blog you’re reading now. Since 2006, Speculative Faith’s regular and guest writers have explored Christian speculative fiction, and they’ll continue to do this under that name. Most (but not all) of Speculative Faith’s writers are helping to build SpecFaith’s related project, Lorehaven.
3. Lorehaven has its own landing page here. This is a forthcoming network of book clubs, led by a quarterly magazine for Christian fans. We’re launching the magazine early next year. We’ll launch the book clubs sooner—in fact, one of them has already begun …
4. Introducing the first Lorehaven book club, by that name, beginning this very Saturday near Austin, Texas. I’m hosting it. You can learn more information here at Lorehaven.
5. Our menus are shinier. You should be able to find features more easily.
6. This also means you can find our forms to share news tips or suggestions, add a novel to the Library, or share a review. For authors, you can share your Christian, published, fantastic-genre novel for possible review in an upcoming Lorehaven
7. Eventually the Search option will be able to search all sites in the Lorehaven network.
8. Eventually, you’ll be able to browse all reviews from Speculative Faith, which cover any fantastic story. And you can find reviews specifically from Lorehaven: these will be shorter and will focus exclusively on Christian-made fantastic novels sent for review.
9. Also in progress: our email subscription options. You can go ahead and sign up for Lorehaven and/or Speculative Faith updates. However, our last system was apparently confused by the and/or option, so people were getting the wrong emails. We’ll need to revamp the email-subscription system so you can read exactly what you want (and change your options, or unsubscribe if you must, without a hassle).
10. With that, I’ll throw the door open for any questions, challenges, or comments. We look forward to building both Speculative Faith and Lorehaven into complementary publications that will help us explore and find truth in fantastical, speculative stories.

I recently watched Alien: Covenant, the sequel to Prometheus and the prequel to the original Alien movies. I’ve always been a big fan of cold, grim sci-fi, and while sci-fi/horror isn’t my preference, the Alien movies (at least the first two) are near masterpieces of high technology and primal terror.

Like most people, I was a bit disappointed with Prometheus as an Alien prequel but it was an interesting film in its own right. Naturally, I was very excited to see Covenant be the bridge between Prometheus and Alien (though there are still gaps with room for at least one more movie). And like most people, I was more than a bit disappointed in Covenant for a variety of reasons. Rather than listing them here, just watch this hilarious spoof trailer from the comic geniuses at Screen Junkies (I have yet to see an Honest Trailer that I didn’t agree with).

One of my biggest complaints with Covenant (which some of my friends have also mentioned, as does the Honest Trailer) is that the alien xenomorph is overexposed. We hardly got a good glimpse of it in the first film, and even in the second film where there are multiple aliens, the camera rarely gives us more than its freaky drooling grin and elongated cranium. Every horror director knows that the most terrifying thing you can do to an audience is make them use their imaginations. You can frighten yourself more than any writer or director can, and the more information you have, the less terrifying the horror becomes.

Image copyright 20th Century Fox

Fear comes from a lack of power. We do not fear things over which we have control. And since knowledge is power, the more you know, the less you fear. What is the simplest way to gain knowledge of something? Turn on the light.

You hear a bump in the night. It could be anything…but when you turn on the light, you see that it’s just a book that fell off the shelf. (But wait, how did that book fall off the….? *cue creepy violin music*). Seeing what something is gives us more information, and more power. This was a major flaw in Covenant, in my opinion. We see the xenomorph jumping around in broad daylight. It’s still pretty freaky but far less so than when it skulks through the narrow corridors of a spaceship. I was really more interested in figuring out if it was a man in a rubber suit or motion capture. B.B. King said it best: “The thrill is gone away.” I’ve seen the xenomorph in full view before but after so many movies, and in such well-lit surroundings, what should have been a scary scene was very underwhelming.

The same principles can be applied to sin and even the devil himself. As believers in Christ, we have literally nothing to fear, for He has overcome the world (John 16:33). Of course, we are still weak, fragile human beings and fear comes as naturally to us as breathing. Yet we do not have to fear the mysteries of sin and evil. This world is full of darkness and insidious forces, but the more we know about the power of the Holy Spirit through us, the stronger our light becomes and the smaller and less scary sin and evil become.

Imagine hunting for a spider in a dark room using only a candle. Spine-tingling, right? You’d probably be terrified that it might jump into your hair at any moment. Now imagine that room has giant fluorescent lights and with the flick of a switch, you could illuminate the entire room. The spider is still there, still creepy-crawly, but you know exactly where it it, how big it is, and how to catch it. You now have the power (you always did, even with the candle. It’s just a spider, for crying out loud). The important thing is to realize the light we have and how powerful it is. John 1:4-5 says, “In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (NASB). The power of light can turn a walking nightmare into a CGI curiosity.

The struggle is real.

Being a Christian and residing on the geek side of the tracks is hard. We’re constantly surrounded by the culture’s messages, agendas, and morals (or lack thereof). A geek’s¹ life can often go something like this:

I want to attend Comic Con…but all the immodest costumes.

I want to watch a popular TV show…but the blatantly agenda-driven lesbian couple.

I want to read this epic fantasy…but all the violence, gore, language, and sex.

Now, I’m not saying these are all default red flags and that, for example, Christians shouldn’t go to comic cons because of what they might see. For some, such a situation may be more problematic. For others, it may be fine. The point is that as Christians in a worldly geek culture, we’re going to face such difficulties somewhere along the road.

It’s also hard because of the sometimes-hostile attitude other believers have toward our fandoms.

“Harry Potter is evil and you should avoid it like the Black Plague.”

“Fantasy stories are nothing more than dangerous escapism.”

“You watch THAT show? What about the language?”

via GIPHY

Yes, I’m generalizing, but it’s kind of sad how easily geeky Christians feel the sting of ostracism for enjoying speculative stories. Or stories with content that some find displeasing.

I want to stress that not everyone takes this approach. Rather, that such a judgmental mindset is still alive and well in Christian circles.

This leaves us Christian geeks feeling trapped and wondering how to deal with this whole question of being a geek in this increasingly complicated culture.

A Christian in Geek Culture?

The question becomes, how do we, as Christians, navigate the swirling eddies of the cultural river? It usually boils down to two approaches.

Abandon Ship!

As in, this is all a waste of time, being pressured from both sides makes life miserable, the culture is too far gone to warrant our attention, so let’s just leave it all behind. Let’s form our own little conclave of safety and reassurance and self-esteem. We don’t need the big bad world and it doesn’t need us.

Except, doesn’t it? Is that not part of our calling as Christians. After all, as a smart Paul guy pointed out, it’s impossible to avoid being in the world. If that’s the case, what’s the balance?

Be in the World, Not of It

How can we be in the world and not of it? How can we interact in our geek communities without letting the sludge seep into our lives? Here are some thoughts.

These aren’t hard-and-fast rules by which thou shalt abide or else suffer with anguish and wailing. Because speaking from experience, that sort of legalism sucks. Instead, I’d like to consider them as principles—things to think about and guide us as we wade into geek culture with all its joys and dangers.

1. Be rooted in the truth. It’s our foundation, our North Star, our Gandalf guiding us along the treacherous journey. Without knowing the truth inside and out, we set ourselves up for serious trouble later on.
2. Use discernment. Yeah, kind of obvious. The more aware we are of the worldviews at play and the more discerning we are in the content we consume, the better equipped we are to orient ourselves in the right direction.
3. Know your own limits. This one’s super important, and relates back to the first point and is central to the whole issue of Christians disagreeing about what’s appropriate. Because everyone’s standards fall in a different place on the Christian Standards Continuum. Some things may be blatantly out of bounds, which is where knowing the truth comes in. Other areas are gray and require personal monitoring to know when you’re entering the danger zone.
4. Determine if it glorifies God. An excellent litmus test for knowing where to draw the line, and something we geeks should always keep in mind, whether we’re just fans or creatives.
5. Enjoy your favorite stories and fandoms. Yes, it’s perfectly fine to enjoy a great story, and there are plenty of excellent ones out there.
6. Avoid assimilation. This is where the “not of it” piece comes into play. Sometimes it’s easy to go with the flow, keep silent because voicing your opinion will stir the controversy waters, or not stand up for what you believe. Bad idea. I’m not saying be intentionally belligerent, but that we need to pay attention for those warning signs.
7. Know your reasons for “being in the world.” Beyond the obvious answer of, “Because fandoms!” we should ask ourselves the purpose. One of the clearest I can see, especially for those of us who create stories, is to bring shafts of light into the shadows. To let the deep truths of life—such as redemption, mercy, sacrifice, and grace—illumine our work.

How do you think Christians can effectively live in the worldly geek culture without become part of it?

A few years back I attended a course at Mount Hermon Christian Writers’ Conference about promotion. One part of the class dealt with the hesitation many Christian writers feel toward self-promotion. The speaker gave what I believed to be an astute rational for “tooting our own horn”: God has put us in a place and time that values “celebrity.”

Last week Stephen wrote about not becoming part of the “new sexual moral majority,” which I understood meant those who want to adapt Christianity to today’s approach to gender issues. Then Friday our guest wrote the first of a two-part discussion about cosplay and the church’s understanding of it.

So, I wonder, which is it? Are we to move with the changing tides of culture—valuing celebrity as does secular society, engaging in cosplay at will, embracing the “rights” of every person, to love who they wish and become the gender they prefer—or are we to stand our ground, firmly anchored in archaic ways of living life?

Hold on. Fluid cultural trends are not all equal. Some have to do with preference; some have to do with beliefs. Beliefs should be anchored, all right—anchored in truth. Preferences change as we change. Because I liked to play with little plastic figurines as a child doesn’t mean I still must have that same desire. Rather, the stories I used to make up about those inanimate characters have translated into stories that I put on the computer in the form of novels instead.

The problems we Christians face is two fold. First we sometimes confuse preferences and beliefs. So we see cultural trends that lead people into preferences that are different from ours, and we think there’s something anti-biblical, that doing what they’re doing can’t possibly be OK because it’s not what we like. This kind of thinking becomes apparent when Christians speak against fantasy and science fiction, simply because their preference is for historical fiction or action adventures or romance.

The second problem Christians face is adopting beliefs that are not Biblical because we share preferences with many who do not accept our Christian worldview. For example, I like the various Star Trek iterations. But in several episodes, very clearly the writers are advocating for the acceptance of a homosexual life style. Perhaps more than acceptance. Perhaps, advocacy might be closer to the truth. Do I give up all Star Trek programs as a result? Do I change my Biblical views because of Star Trek’s position?

I think again about living in a celebrity culture, as the instructor at Mount Hermon framed it. Are we to refrain from all promotion because the Bible teaches humility, or are we to embrace promotion and the “celebrity platform” that is available in our culture as it was in no other? How are we to live in a celebrity culture?

I think of Joshua and his jealousy for Moses when God put a portion of His Spirit on the 70 designated elders in the camp of the Israelites. Moses was overwhelmed by the demands of the thousands of people, so God had him select these leaders to share the burden. When they received the Holy Spirit, they prophesied. Two were in the camp and Joshua was one who heard them also prophesy. He went to Moses and told him to have those elders stop prophesying. Why? Scripture says he was jealous for Moses.

But Moses, being “very humble, more than any man who was on the face of the earth” (Numbers 12:3), replied that he wished all God’s people would prophesy. He had no desire to be above the others, to have what they didn’t have, to be a celebrity.

Sure, being a celebrity has privilege, but it also has responsibility. And there are two sides to celebrity status: being well-known and pursuing a connection to someone who is becoming well-known. After all, a person can’t be a celebrity if others aren’t pursuing a connection with them, if others don’t want to know them, if there aren’t Joshuas who guard the status of a Moses.

Here’s my conclusion: the celebrity culture is a preference in our society. We as believers are not necessarily sinning if we take part. However, the Scriptural truth that needs to anchor us is that we are equal in God’s eyes. Someone famous is not more important or valuable because many people know who they are. In that vein, we believers would be wise to treat all people with love (neighbors, enemies, Christian brothers—Scripture doesn’t give us a different response to any). We shouldn’t accept what Famous Author said simply because he’s so well known. We shouldn’t become a groupie, just so we can gain an advantage (after all, I sat at Famous Author’s table twice!). And finally, we shouldn’t seek out the status of Famous Author for ourselves.

David didn’t kill Goliath so he would become well-known throughout Israel. Daniel didn’t pray when it was against the law to do so because he wanted a children’s song written about him (“Dare to be a Daniel . . .”), Gideon didn’t go to battle with only 300 soldiers because he wanted to make the pages of Scripture. No. In each instance, obedience was what motivated these people. They wanted to do what God told them to do. In all three of these particular instances, adversarial confrontation preceded their fame. But they held their ground, put obeying God above all else, and didn’t really care who knew or who wanted to know them as a result of their actions.

In the same way, I believe obedience can anchor us Christians living in a celebrity culture. We don’t need to seek celebrity but we don’t need to shun promotion either. The key is to pay attention to the word of God.

About a decade ago, my then-pastor included cosplay photos of my cosplay group in the church bulletin, just because he thought it was unusual and would be fun.

He didn’t know it, but that decision made for years of easier connection with friends leery of organized religion.

They told me, “You go to church? Don’t they, you know, get all weird about you going to cons and stuff?”

“Actually, they put our cosplay photos in the bulletin,” I said.

“Really?”

This was so unexpected that it broke preconceptions and barriers.

The photo which was selected for a calendar and brought criticism in my small group.

About the same time, however, I arrived at small group one night to hear the co-leader publicly sharing her disgust at the “lesbian incest” photos she’d seen online of my sister and me, cosplaying a straight and unrelated couple. This disparagement didn’t build many relationships within the church or without.

From outside the hobby, cosplay can look confusing or even a little scary in its unfamiliarity, but it doesn’t have to be either. Here’s a quick overview of the community and a guide to key terms.

Cosplay means dressing up as particular characters (or occasionally concepts or inanimate objects!) from a particular media source.

The word is a portmanteau of “costume playacting.” And while the act is often touted as a modern fandom thing, it actually goes back at least to the 1930s in its recognizable modern form.

It’s no different than what a previous generation did when they donned coonskin caps because Daniel Boone was big on television. Fans have always wanted to take on the look of their favorite characters! Cosplay often involves being in character to a greater or lesser degree. While most cosplay purely for fun, there are competitions for craftsmanship and performance, ranging from local to international.

Crossplay means portraying a character of the opposite sex.

When I as a woman play Edward Elric or Emperor Ryuuki, for example, I am crossplaying. When a male friend plays Daphne from Scooby Doo, he is crossplaying. The character’s sex is not the cosplayer’s sex.

Our “Amok Time” group, from Star Trek.

There are many reasons a cosplayer might crossplay:

• A group needs characters which don’t match the group’s makeup. A few weeks ago, for example, friends and I played the Vulcans from the iconic Star Trek episode “Amok Time,” even though there was only one male cosplayer in our group. Most of us females crossplayed to fill out the roles.
• A cosplayer wants to play to their own physical or mental attributes. I once judged a real-life male and female couple playing an onscreen male and female couple—but he was playing the female and she was playing the male, because they were each better suited for those roles. They earned a prize for their excellent craftsmanship and portrayals.
• Frankly, women often crossplay because there are more worthwhile male characters than female. The trope of the five-man band can keep female characters to a minimum, and there are a lot of bland women and “sexy lamps” in media. I often play male characters simply because they’re the interesting ones.

My sister Alena, playing Nathan Drake from Uncharted.

While many people are tempted to view male-to-female cosplay as a joke, that’s not fair (and it says a great deal about one’s gender views). I’ve seen a lot of very talented male cosplayers make beautiful costumes and do a fantastic job playing female characters. Mocking or denigrating them, or assuming their purpose could only be comic, is just as boorish as laughing at a male author who writes a female protagonist.

Crossplay can be done very skillfully. My sister and I have both been asked to dance by women while playing men, and my friend Christopher has more than once been mistaken for a woman until he speaks—and we all laugh together and they complement our efforts. It means we’ve done our work well!

Gender-bending is when the character changes sex—but not the cosplayer.

An example might be a woman playing the Tenth Doctor as a woman, wearing a pin-striped skirt and jacket and heels. I saw a WonderMan at an event last month, wearing adapted armor. The character and costume have been gender-swapped, but the cosplayer and gender-bent character have the same sex. This may be done when a cosplayer doesn’t feel confident in his or her crossplay abilities or just when he or she wants to reimagine a character with a different take.

Observers sometimes make a serious mistake by assuming crossplay and gender-bending are declarations of sexual preference or practice.

I play more male characters than female, and I’m a straight woman who’s been married nearly 20 years. Gay and straight cosplayers cosplay, crossplay, and gender-bend in equal ratio. The couple jointly crossplaying a couple was not practicing some sort of fetish. Making an assumption about someone’s sexual practices at home based on a costume is just as uncouth as at any other time, and commenting on it is just as unwelcome and creepy at a cosplay event as it would be on a sidewalk or at church.

While cosplay generally incorporates a variety of construction skills, from sewing to armor-making to casting to wig-making, it doesn’t have to be that complicated.

Closet cosplay is the art of taking the clothes you already own and incorporating them into a costume.

This is a concept already familiar to Sunday School parents, wrapping their children in bathrobes and towels for the annual Christmas pageant. But it’s also useful for the novice cosplayer without many sewing or construction skills. It’s best for characters whose looks are based on modern street clothes; a solid-colored shirt with suspenders, a Hawaiian shirt, and a silky dress can quickly become Malcolm Reynolds, Wash, and Inara from Firefly. It’s somewhat less feasible for, say, a Gundam or a kaiju from Pacific Rim.

Now that we have some basic terminology, we can talk about common misapprehensions and myths. Tune in again next week for Cosplay 101 for the Critical Christian, where we’ll learn what all this really says about the people who engage in this colorful hobby, and what to watch for.

No, I can’t join the New Sexual Moral Majority. But sometimes I wish I could.

They seem so excited, truly thrilled, about their beliefs. Indeed it would be exciting to find that all along —plot twist—Jesus actually did approve some things we thought He viewed as self-destruction. Even better, we could discover this truth at the exact moment when the Church needs to regain respect, and possibly majority influence, among our neighbors. We could better help a hurting, impoverished world, and we could introduce them to Jesus.¹

This idea would also give Christian-made speculative novels a huge boost. At last month’s Realm Makers conference, a panel of agents and publishers were asked about publishing trends. Agent Steve Laube answered first: the big trend is LGBT stories, all the way.

But alas, many (not all) New Sexual Moral Majority advocates say things like, “Come on, it’s 2017. You just can’t belief those particular things now that it’s 2017. It simply isn’t done.”

And all I hear is a silly, strange “argument” based in the language of mere fashion: “Come on, it’s Labor Day. Nobody wears white after Labor Day. You’re just not supposed to do it. And also it’s 2017 and everyone knows you just can’t dress like Jesus after [name of year].”

This sort of critique represents the absolute worst of popular culture.

About this worst element, all the fundies, the separatists, and the grumpy legalistic Christians who never bought a TV are absolutely right. Popular culture is infected with trends: ideas/memes/beliefs that opinion-makers declare are “in,” that is holy and righteous, simply by virtue of their existing and seeming to catch on with a lot of people.

If you catch the trend, you’re In. You’re cool. People will listen to you and you can become an influencer yourself. If you’re a Christian, maybe people will stop calling you a racist and will actually listen when you speak about an eternal Savior who loves people.

But if you don’t catch the trend, you’re Out. People will not listen to you. They will likely call you a racist, or associate you with other sins you may or may not actually be guilty of doing.

This isn’t to say that anyone who adopts a particular fashion is doing it just to be cool. That would be slanderous to say (as some have said against Christians who believe that we can better engage with people for Jesus’s sake by engaging the stories and culture they enjoy). No, that’s not always our prime motive. Sometimes we just happen to follow a trend, to like the culture’s “color,” at the exact moment it’s trendy. That doesn’t mean you’re sinning.²

Rather, I’m speaking against the notion of following trends just because they’re trendy.

I do believe such trend-chasing is sinful. It’s opposed to the teaching of Jesus, who would often emphasize his people’s need to oppose other moral value systems. The Pharisees wanted to condemn Him for teaching against their legalism. And even His disciples wanted to use Jesus’s influence for their own short-term “free us from the Romans” political ends.

However, Jesus has His own mission: to preach that “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel,”³ and to die and resurrect to show He must carry out justice yet also mercy and love.⁴

This was His agenda, utterly fashion-free. He kept above such trendy notions swirling about Him, and expressing mild exasperation when His disciples continually missed His points.

Even if He were only a human, Jesus demonstrates such glory, devotion, and earnestness for His actual cause, that He naturally makes vapid fashions and catchy trends look absurd. However, He is not just a Man, but God Himself. From the supposed backward archives of the past comes His thunderous yet merciful plea: “Repent of your sin. Believe in me. Join my kingdom. Become like Myself. Dress like Me.”

And in response, too many plaintive voices in our culture sputter, like flustered Pharisees, “But you just can’t dress like Jesus after Labor Day. It simply isn’t done. Because it’s 2017! Now that it’s 2017, everyone dresses in these New Sexual Moral Majority garments.”

I’m sorry, I’ll need a better reason than that.

Yes, I know our friends among this religion offer better reasons. And as I mentioned earlier, some of them claim their beliefs are actually the real, lost fashion of Jesus, unearthed from secret treasure trunks in Christianity’s attic. I don’t buy this either. It has the unmistakable feel of someone trying to resurrect old cultural trends—and yet not nearly old enough.

Naturally, the Christian fantasy fan’s hero, C.S. Lewis, remarked upon this very problem:

The use of Fashions in thought is to distract the attention of men from their real dangers. We direct the fashionable outcry of each generation against those vices of which it is least in danger and fix its approval on the virtue nearest to that vice which we are trying to make endemic. The game is to have them running about with fire extinguishers whenever there is a flood, and all crowding to that side of the boat which is already nearly gunwale under.

… But the greatest triumph of all is to elevate his horror of the Same Old Thing into a philosophy so that nonsense in the intellect may reinforce corruption in the will.

… The Enemy [God] loves platitudes. Of a proposed course of action He wants men, so far as I can see, to ask very simple questions; is it righteous? is it prudent? is it possible? Now if we can keep men asking ‘Is it in accordance with the general movement of our time? Is it progressive or reactionary? Is this the way that History is going?’ they will neglect the relevant questions. And the questions they do ask are, of course, unanswerable; for they do not know the future, and what the future will be depends very largely on just those choices which they now invoke the future to help them to make. As a result, while their minds are buzzing in this vacuum, we have the better chance to slip in and bend them to the action we have decided on. And great work has already been done.⁵

Even as we engage popular culture, often more than our forebears, we must stop being foolish and naïvely sheltered about such vapid trends and superficiality of popular culture.

Lines that sound like “But it’s 2017”, “Your belief is so last year,” or “This is The Future and history will belong to these people” betray an appeal to trendiness-for-only-trend’s-sake. Christians should ignore and reject such thinking, just as we ignore and reject the myths or even hate some Christians have shown to other people. Don’t follow trends. Follow Jesus.

Let’s talk about promises. To narrow the field, let’s talk about the promises the producers of culture make to us regarding their shows and movies and books.

Now, I don’t mean advertising slogans (BEST OF THE YEAR), which are not promises so much as exercises in hope and hype. I mean the implicit promises of genre, or brand, or whatever label under which a work takes up residence. These promises are made (of course!) in the interest of profit; if they get us to believe, they get us to buy. But once we believe and buy, they end up bound to their brands. The power of brand is a conservative force and resists change – including from readers and writers wanting something new in Christian publishing. (Incidentally, that is a preview. We will end at Christian publishing, but we’re taking the long way around, like they did before the Federal Highway-Aid Act.)

A brand is identity in shorthand and infinitely useful in this capitalistic world of choices. When you are so unfortunate as to be driving cross-country, do you stop to eat at small, unknown restaurants in small, unknown towns, thus exploring the rich variety of our great country and supporting hard-working small-business owners?

Of course not. You might get disappointed. You might get lost. You might get salmonella. What you do is, you watch the FOOD signs and get off the interstate when you see the logo of a chain restaurant that strikes you as good or, at any rate, acceptable. I’ve seen critical social commentary of this, but it’s only good sense. The selection off the highway sign of corporate logos is a selection based on knowledge, and if you’re not thrilled about getting a mediocre hamburger from McDonald’s, you won’t really be disappointed, either. Because you knew what to expect.

To teach people what to expect is the triumph of brand, and quite profitable when the expectations are good. What follows such triumph is an effort to preserve the brand and fulfill expectations. Disney, for example, has released most of its PG-13 fare and all of its R-rated fare under its Touchstone label. The more auspicious Disney label is reserved for gentler, kinder movies, movies fit for children. This is not a moral decision or an expression of values. Disney knows that its brand is a promise of movies that, while rarely without a dose of pathos, will never be too edgy or dark. Violate that too often or too egregiously, and see how many parents will be buying theater tickets on no other grounds than “it’s Disney”.

The same principle is manifest in publishing. Del Rey isn’t going to be releasing cozy mysteries with titles like Lemon Meringue Madness, and if you’re waiting for Harlequin to publish a six-hundred page literary novel with allusions in the original French and a textured analysis of symbolic-interactionist theory, I hope you’re a patient soul. That’s not what they’re about, and their readers know it.

And what is Christian publishing about? What promises does it make? To many readers, one of its most crucial promises is that it will be clean – that they can get the story they want without the unsavory content they don’t. All such readers could doubtless find books in the secular market they would enjoy, but the finding is so much easier in the Christian market. They expect that Christian publishers will adhere to certain standards, and depend on it.

Readers who want different standards, or even exceptions to the old ones, may be asking for more than they know. New standards and too many exceptions do something dangerous. They break the brand. They break the promise.

“I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.”

Those words, spoken by Gandalf at the end of Return of the King, poignantly convey something we all have and will feel. The dual joy and pain of having close friendships. This thing called friendship is a beautiful, breathtaking reality that sometimes we take for granted.

This year, I was privileged to work on a team of college-age students to plan a national student convention. After months of laboring alongside one another, we finally reached the end of the journey this past week when the convention took place. After which we had to say our farewells and scatter back to our homes across the country.

And to be honest, it was hard. Why? Because as humans, we’re wired for relationships.

Why We Need Relationships

Being lonely is one of the most awful things we can imagine, and so we crave the close connection brought by deep friendships. This truth of needing relationships comes into beautiful focus in almost any story you read and points to the wonderful ways in which friendship enrich our lives.

Image via tardis.wikia.com

Think of the trio from the Harry Potter books. What would Harry and Ron and Hermione have done without each other? All the adventures they went on, ways they banded together, moments where they worked as a team when the situation was dire.

Or what about Doctor Who and his various companions? It’s not a coincidence that he gallivants through space and time with someone along for the ride. No matter how cool that job would be, it wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable without someone with which to share the memories and experiences.

Friendship goes beyond mere companionship, however. As so beautifully illustrated in Lord of the Rings, it can literally shape the outcome of lives. What would Frodo’s quest have been without the Fellowship to encourage, guide, and support him along the way? How would the story have ended were it not for the unbreakable bonds of friendship between him and Sam?

Image via lotr.wikia.com

Time and again, not only in Lord of the Rings but across stories and genres and worlds, this theme occurs. At the end of the day, what would life be without relationships?

Epic tales span kingdoms, whisk us to far-off lands, and paint pictures of the world as it may become. Yet without the characters, their interactions and dynamics and relationships, the stories would fall flat.

This goes back to what I said about relationships being key to life. Not only key to life, but pivotal in accomplishing tasks or achieving success. Like braids in a rope, together we’re stronger than we are individually.

Friendships in Stories

Gotta love a Gandalf quote.

When stories capture those moments that are so true to reality it gives us chills, they direct us back to this truth. We relate to them on a deeper level, and so the unfolding tale resonates within our souls.

We see Gandalf and the hobbits bidding farewell at the Grey Havens, and it pierces our hearts because we’ve felt that same sense of sorrow. We understand the sadness of the Pevensie children as they slowly begin to leave their Narnian friends to go on with their lives in this world.

It’s ironic, really. As these tales illustrate, we want to be close to others to ease the pain of loneliness, yet that closeness brings about its own type of pain. However, it’s a pain well worth it in the end.

Lest I sound gloomy, this isn’t a one-sided coin. Just as stories speak to these melancholy times, they also point us toward hope and joy. Don’t forget that though Sam watched Frodo sail into the west and then returned to life in the Shire, he too eventually passed over the Sea to see his beloved Mr. Frodo again.

The Pevensies may have left Narnia for a time, but where did they end up? In the true Narnia, reunited with their friends and family.

So the golden threads of friendship run, turning at times through shadows of separation but coming at last to their full completion. As Christians, we should be doubly encouraged. We have the assurance that, as the Pevensies discovered, the friendships they formed lasted forever.

As we follow tales of bravery and courage, let us remember the characters that breathe life into those tales. Let us marvel at the gift of friendship displayed and remember those closest to us. Our Sam Gamgees and Ron Weasleys and Reepicheeps.

Because quests come and go.

Dangers are fleeting.

Homes may change.

But those around us, with whom we share a deep bond of fellowship—they last for eternity.

How have stories reflected friendship in ways that resonated with you?