C. S. Lewis never had the opportunity to share his thoughts on Marvel’s 1994 comic adaptation of The Screwtape Letters, but he did say much of the criticism of comics in his day was overblown. He wrote in a 1960 letter,
I wonder do we blame T.V. and the Comics too much? . . . It annoys me when parents who read nothing but the newspapers themselves . . . complain of their children reading the Comics! Upon my soul I think the children’s diet is healthier than their parents’.
In Lewis’s mind, newspapers are more inclined to corrosive propaganda than comic books or other popular fiction. In An Experiment in Criticism, he rebuffed those who begin their artistic engagement from a skeptical standpoint. “The first demand any work of art makes upon us is surrender,” he writes. Surrender can’t coexist with skepticism. “You cannot be armed to the teeth and surrendered at the same moment.” There’s no indication Lewis personally enjoyed comic books, but he opposed snobbery that cut Christians off from pop culture.
We engage with popular cultural media, including comic books, because they help us escape our myopic vantage point. Comic books can help those who engage with them rightly to gain new insight into prevailing worldviews, preparing us to communicate with non-Christians.
Christianity and Comics: Stories We Tell About Heaven and Hell by scholar Blair Davis reminds readers of theology’s reach into the broader culture, for both good and ill. In this book, he explores how Christianity has been understood, and often misunderstood, by the surrounding culture.
Consider the Medium
Davis tracks how comic book artists, writers, and publishers engage with Christian themes. Most often, he describes the major comic book publishers like Marvel and DC using Christianity as a source of story inspiration. The X-Men confront the ancient Apocalypse and his four Horsemen. Faith imagery echoes through storylines like Daredevil’s “Born Again” and Batman’s “Holy Terror.” The quality of these representations of Christianity has varied, which has contributed to a largely binary approach to the medium among Christians.
When comic books emerged, some Christians capitalized on the medium for educational and evangelistic purposes. Others, however, organized events to destroy the material that “caused the downfall of many youthful readers,” according to a boy participating in a 1948 comic book burning (58). We see the tendency of Christians to either adopt culture unquestioningly or condemn it without serious consideration.
We see the tendency of Christians to either adopt culture unquestioningly or condemn it without serious consideration.
For example, advocates of using comic books evangelistically seemed to give little thought to the medium’s appropriateness for the task. Does the flimsy nature of a comic book convey the right tone when communicating an everlasting message? Can you recontextualize the written Word of God as illustrated pictures with conversation bubbles? As with the use of numerous technologies in churches today, there may be well-thought-out methodologies, but pragmatism often drives the discussion. Comic books that rely on Christian themes sometimes present shallow versions of Christianity, which often rely on theological misinterpretations.
Theological Misinterpretation
Christianity and Comics undermines the notion that the United States is no longer influenced by faith. Davis writes, “The influx of new titles using religion as the basis for their storytelling, whether they reinforce Christian beliefs or tear them down, are a sign of the continuing influence Christianity has on Western civilization” (251).
While it’s clear vestiges of the Christian faith still serve as starting points for many comic books, most aren’t reinforcing or tearing down; they’re misinterpreting.
While it’s clear vestiges of the Christian faith still serve as starting points for many comic books, most aren’t reinforcing or tearing down; they’re misinterpreting. That’s not a new phenomenon. From their earliest days, comics perpetuated poor theology.
Satan became a comic fixture in the 1950s but had been around since the beginning of the medium. “The devil could even be considered one of the first supervillains to appear regularly in comics throughout the 1940s, alongside Lex Luthor and the Joker,” Davis writes (23). But the supernatural adversary was often bested by decidedly natural means. One devilish scheme was thwarted “by a group of young children who beat Satan up with a barrage of stones, bottles, and tiny fists” (27).
That caricature may be far removed from the prowling lion “looking for anyone he can devour,” but those who oppose the Devil in comics are just as confused. In an early 1940s Pep Comics issue, Brother Sunbeam, a glowing monk riding a mule, confronts Satan. “Give up your evil plotting against man, for you are doomed to failure. Man is essentially good!” (22). In this telling, salvation is assured by man’s goodness, not by Christ’s sacrifice.
As the book progresses chronologically from the 1940s to the modern era, much of the comic engagement with faith takes a more biting edge, particularly with independent publications. Writers and artists explored their struggles and doubts through the characters on the page. Eventually, many characters and storylines become intentionally blasphemous.
Doctrinal Distortions
More recently, Preacher, published by DC and adapted into an AMC television show, depicts a warped view of God. Jesse Custer, a small-town minister, loses his faith but gains godlike power. In the final confrontation, God confesses he created the world because he was lonely. “Men had to choose to love me,” God says. “I was alone. I wanted to be loved” (225).
Preacher creator Garth Ennis says that as a young child, he was told that God loves us “and if we loved him back . . . and did right by him, then he would reward us” (224). Ennis learned of a God who gives rewards in exchange for love instead of the God who has eternally existed in perfect triune love and graciously extends that love to those created in his image.
Davis records other comic creators sharing how their exposure to “organized religion” influenced their characters and storylines. Some may have misunderstood what they heard as small children, but many were likely taught well-intentioned but bad theology.
Christianity and Comics is at its best when dealing with the comics part of the title. Davis admits his limitations, specifying his entry point is “as a comic scholar, not as someone trained in religious studies” (9). His theological insights are limited and left-leaning, but the book does allow the reader to see ways Christians have engaged poorly with comics and the consequences of sharing sloppy theology. We never know when the next DC or Marvel creator will be listening to our attempted explanations of God and his character. It could be their theological villain origin story.