Spare our Lord Jesus Christ, I sometimes believe that there are no real superheroes, that there is not one benevolent person who possesses superhuman powers. Despite sometimes not believing in them, I am uplifted by fictitious stories of superheroes. Amidst chaos, a little boy closes his eyes and says, “Superman,” and the enthused faith with which I anticipate the hero’s coming is as sure as the noon sun on a clear day.

Contemporary man, I think, believes superheroes are fiction, where fictions lack concrete existence. To be sure, there is a sense in which he should. Clark Kent qua person does not exist; there is no person who is Clark Kent. Nevertheless, the fascination with which man entertains fictitious superheroes is not unusual, for he was designed to delight in superheroes. It is a natural inclination of man to take satisfaction in characters who make the ordinary unfamiliar and surprising. Superheroes excite and imbue the imagination with wonder and hope. The Creator’s intention, I think, was not that I should satisfy my desire for superheroes with merely fictitious narratives. Primarily satisfying the yearning for superheroes through fiction is, in many respects, primarily delighting in novelties, characters with no concrete correspondence to reality. When contemporary man satisfies himself in this way, the fictitious superheroes largely replace the reality of God’s blessings to man. Fictitious superheroes are for the a-religious what the saints of God are to the Christian; these fictions are the secularist’s fad for the saints of God’s heavenly city–God’s blessings to man. A cursory glance at hagiographical and Scriptural texts attests to parallels between fictional superheroes and saints:

By God’s blessing, St. Scholastica caused a storm to erupt, ensuring she could spend more time with her brother (Abbey, 239). St. Padre Pio could multiply locate (bilocate) his physical body (Mróz, 135). St. Saraphim of Sarov befriended a bear who placidly fetched him honey (Cavarnos and Zeldin, 65). St. Clare of Assisi struck terror into the hearts of advancing Roman soldiers simply by raising a pyx (Abbey, 64). Mary, the Mother of God, caused the sun to sway in the sky (Dalleur). St. Joseph of Cupertino levitated before astonished parishioners (Herbermann, 520). St. Elijah the Prophet caused fire to descend from the heavens (1 Kings 18:38). St. Michael the Archangel banished Satan from Paradise in a flash of lightning (Luke 10:18).

Throughout history, there have been thousands of saints whose lives demonstrate benevolence and superhuman powers. Despite this astounding fact, it is more common for children to want to be like Spider-Man than any one of these. This should perturb any Christian. The reality is that Spider-Man doesn’t exist, and many children are unaware of God’s blessings to man because of their parents’ ignorance or negligence, and because of society’s fictional infatuations. Contemporary man, I think, falsely infers the non-existence of real superheroes from the fact of the non-existence of fictitious superheroes: Superman, Captain America, Batman, the Hulk, etc., don’t exist. Therefore, superheroes don’t exist. This inference is partly due to a lack of knowledge or interest concerning the lives of the saints, the highest constituents of God’s heavenly city–the real superheroes.

Let not your attention nor desire for the wonderful be consumed by these pseudo-religious films depicting fictional superheroes. I don’t claim there’s something wrong per se with taking delight in novelties, but there is something wrong with delighting in them more frequently than in our beloved saints. Mary Oliver reflects similarly, when wading through the beauty of God’s creation: “Something is wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity…May I forever stay in the stream (7).” Even if there is nothing wrong with delighting in novelties per se, they should always, nevertheless, be understood in light of reality, but I’m afraid that contemporary man is more familiar with fictional tales than with the reality of God’s providence. For that reason (among many others), together with his faulty inference, contemporary man, I think, believes superheroes are fiction.

Possible Discussion Questions

Would delighting in any fictional story entail delighting in a novelty, a fad for reality? What if what one finds delightful in a “novelty” are the symbols with which the fictional story allegorizes reality? Is delighting in allegories equivalent to delighting in fads? Is it bad to know more about Gandalf than the “highest constituents” of God’s heavenly city? Are fictional tales and God’s providence mutually exclusive?

Bibliography

• Cavarnos, Constantine and Zeldin, Mary-Barbara. Modern Orthodox Saints, St Seraphim of Sarov, 10 vols. The Institute for Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies, 2001.
• Dalleur, Philippe. “Fatima Pictures and Testimonials: in-depth Analysis.” Scientia et Fides 9, no. 1 (2021): 9-45.
• Herbermann, Charles et al. The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 8, 15 vols. The Encyclopedia Press. 1915.
• Mróz, Franciszek. “On the Footprings of Saint Padre Pio of Pietrelcina.” Peregrinus Cracoviensis 13. (2002): 135-157.
• Oliver, Mary. Upstream: Selected Essays. Penguin Books, 2016.
• St. Augustine’s Abbey, The Book of Saints. A&C Black, 1921.