Insanely but Divinely Inspired Fandom as a Spiritual Practice
Elizabeth Arnold
Even before attending a UU church was a part of my story, my lifelong avid
consumption of Science Fiction and Fantasy media primed me to embrace
Unitarian Universalist principles. In fact, I would go as far as to say that my
fandom is an important source of my living tradition. Being a fan is a
component of my spiritual practice. Science Fiction and Fantasy stories are
sources from which I draw spiritual wisdom.
Many dismiss fans of genre fiction and their associated media such as
movies, television programs, comic books, and video games as silly and unserious.
The popular culture stereotype of a socially awkward nerd living in his (because
these individuals are invariably male) parent’s basement is a powerful and
enduring image, and one that ultimately marginalizes an important and
increasingly mainstream cultural force-one that merges acceptance of others,
scientific reason, and hopefulness for the future of humanity into a disparate yet
loosely allied army of nerds and geeks. I won’t get into the difference between
those two terms here. Like any religion, we do have our schisms [skizems].
There is historical precedence for the act of being a fan as a spiritual
practice. The word fan is derived from the latin “fanaticus” meaning “insanely but
divinely inspired.” Wikipedia tells me the term originally described a temple or
sacred spot. My fandom of science fiction helped build my UU temple of values in
my personal framework of spirituality.
Science fiction, a genre sometimes referred to as “knowledge fiction”,
prompts readers to stretch their imaginations to envision various possibilities.
Authors commonly explore themes of the bounds of human potential and
evolution, the effect of our actions on our environment, and the proper method of
solving humanity’s lingering problems. In these ways and more, science fiction
functions as prescriptive literature, descriptive literature and predictive literature.
That is, the genre reads alternately as instruction for better living, commentary on
our current situation, and warning about the logical conclusion of our current
choices. These functions provide fertile ground for an exploration of faith and
spiritual values. I read vast quantities of science fiction books as a child, and
avidly consumed science fiction television and movies.
Science fiction wasn’t the only source of my spiritual framework. I found
Fantasy early on, reading The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings series with my
Dad when I was in elementary school. If Science Fiction is dismissed as
unimportant, then Fantasy doubly so, with its dwarves, wizards, dragons, and
fairies. But, as the Atlantic noted in an article marking British fantasy author Terry
Pratchett’s death: “There is deep truth to be found in fictional stories, no less so if
they include witches and wizards [...] Fantasy at its best is more than just escapism.
The distorted funhouse mirror of an imagined world can sometimes reflect our own
more clearly than the most realistic fiction.” Fantasy literature and other media
such as movies definitely helped me reflect on what spiritual values I held in this
world.
One of the most popular science fiction franchises (and one with the most
dedicated fans) is Star Trek. Created by Gene Roddenberry, the original series
follows the Gulliver’s Travels-style journey of the Starship Enterprise and its crew
as they journey through space on peacekeeping and humanitarian aid. Roddenberry
freely admitted that he had a progressive social agenda in creating the series, and
by couching it in a fantastical setting of futuristic space exploration, he was able to
get messages confronting sexism, racism, and war past the network censors.
Starfleet even had the Prime Directive, a policy of noninterference with other
civilizations and cultures throughout the galaxy. Theirs was not an imperialist
agenda, at least in principle, even if they struggled with the prime directive in
practice.
I had planned on preaching on this particular topic even before the recent
passing of actor Leonard Nimoy, who portrayed Spock on the original series.
Spock, a Vulcan/human hybrid, was the breakout character on Star Trek, earning
legions of loyal fans drawn to his cool, rational external demeanor and brave, loyal
interior life. Nimoy actually invented the Vulcan Salute [show hand sign] adapted
from the way he remembered Jewish priests holding their hands when giving
blessings from his childhood.
During an interview, he translated the Priestly Blessing from Numbers 6:24–26 which accompanies the
sign[34] and described it during a public lecture:[35]
May the Lord bless and keep you and may the Lord cause his countenance to shine upon you.
May the Lord be gracious unto you and grant you peace. The accompanying spoken blessing,
"Live long and prosper."
The character of Spock could even have been said to articulate a socialist or
communalist message in his most famous line “The needs of the many outweigh
the needs of the few.”
The character of Spock struggles with understanding humanity, and thus
provides a proxy for us, the viewer, to explore the deeper question of humanity.
This same role is filled later on Star Trek: The Next Generation by Data, an
android who struggles with questions of humanity and the soul. Through these
characters, the Star Trek universe remained deeply dedicated to examining what
defines and shapes our humanity. As Captain Kirk said at Spock’s funeral in Wrath
of Khan:
“We are assembled here today to pay final respects to our honored dead. And yet it should be
noted that in the midst of our sorrow, this death takes place in the shadow of new life, the sunrise
of a new world; a world that our beloved comrade gave his life to protect and nourish. He did not
feel this sacrifice a vain or empty one, and we will not debate his profound wisdom at these
proceedings. Of my friend, I can only say this: of all the souls I have encountered in my travels,
his was the most... human.”
Star Wars is a science fiction series incorporating futuristic technology and
space travel with fantastical elements created by George Lucas from various
sources including serialized adventure comics, westerns, and ancient mythology
from many cultures. For the purposes of our discussion, let us only consider “The
Holy Trilogy,” that is, the ‘original’ three films released between 1977-1983: A
New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi. If I had my way, my
children would be raised in a world where JarJar Binks never existed. (for those of
you not in the know, he was a detestable character created in the prequels released
in the 1990s that proved so divisive as to almost start a holy war amongst Star
Wars fans.)
Star wars is filled with strong influences from various religions including
Buddhism, Gnosticism, Christianity, Zoastracism, and Greek and Roman
mythology. There’s probably more I’m not even mentioning here. Whole books
have been written just on this topic.
The holy trilogy depicts the adventurous journey of Luke Skywalker as he
leaves his farm planet to become a hero battling evil on a galactic scale. This is a
pretty clear-cut black-and-white hero myth: at first glance. What makes the Star
Wars moral universe so intriguing (and has earned it so many enduring adult fans)
is that, while the force may appear to be a clear-cut divide between good and evil,
the reality is a bit more muddled.
Luke at first trains as a Jedi Knight to use the force (a kind of mix of
telekinesis, telepathy, and super-strength achieved through a Zen-like connection
with the life force of the universe). As Yoda says:
Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Hmm? Hmm. And well you
should not. For my ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it
grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude
matter. You must feel the Force around you; here, between you, me, the tree, the rock,
everywhere, yes. Even between the land and the ship.
Luke uses the force to defeat Imperial forces through space battles. However, at the
end of The Empire Strikes Back we learn that Darth Vader, right-hand halfman/half-machine to the evil Emperor, is Luke’s father. From that startling
revelation, Luke’s journey is less clear cut.
He does not restore balance to the universe by destroying his father and then
the Emperor with his power. No, he makes a choice to lay down his lightsaber and
refuse to destroy his father, choosing to see the redeemable good in a tragic and
objectively very bad person. By sparing his father’s life and choosing forgiveness,
Darth Vader, Luke upholds the good side of the Force and ultimately wins the
battle. Darth Vader, so moved by his son’s choice, keeps the Emperor from
destroying Luke by throwing the Emperor down a deep chute, killing the Emperor.
Darth Vader then dies from his battle wounds with the Emperor, but before he dies,
he tells his son “you were right about me. Tell your sister you were right.” He turns
to the light side of the Force before his death. By rejecting violence, Luke destroys
the Emperor and the Empire, and saves his father’s soul.
Do we see some obvious religious themes there? Hey, I didn’t say it was an
original story--it’s all recycled religion and mythology, right?
This storyline shows that it’s the choices we make that define us (not our
skills or even genetic or inborn talents and abilities). Interestingly, it is this
message that lies at the center of the Harry Potter fantasy series as well. Choices
are important in science fiction and fantasy, and this responsibility that comes with
choice is at the heart of Unitarian Universalism, which emphasizes that, while we
may not know or agree on what happens after life ends, what matters is what we do
with the time given to us.
Another puzzle piece in my personal spiritual path to Unitarian Universalism
was the television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If you’ve ever seen those tshirts that say “Joss Whedon is my Master” and not understood them, here is what
you need to know. Television writer and producer Joss Whedon took a campy Bmovie with a terrible name and a ridiculous premise about a high school
cheerleader “slaying” or killing vampires and turned it into one of the most moving
depictions of coming-of-age ever shown on the small screen.
Without getting too detailed about the fantastical plot lines in Buffy, there
are many Unitarian Universalist themes in the series. The ones most poignant and
touching for me are: the conviction that family is what is created not through
biology but through love and choice, the respectful portrayal of the first openly gay
couple on television, and the celebration of female power. The series actually ends
with the titular character literally sharing her power with women throughout the
world through magical means, a fitting end for a show whose central thesis was
about female power-that the final act of feminism would be to extend and share
that power to women everywhere. Buffy states to a group of potential trainee
slayers in the final episode:
So here's the part where you make a choice. What if you could have that power, now? In every
generation, one Slayer is born, because a bunch of men who died thousands of years ago made up
that rule. They were powerful men. This woman is more powerful than all of them combined. So I
say we change the rule. I say my power, should be *our* power. [..]From now on, every girl in the
world who might be a Slayer, will be a Slayer. Every girl who could have the power, will have the
power. Can stand up, will stand up. Slayers, every one of us. Make your choice. Are you ready to
be strong?
There is one episode that stands out to me in its spiritual power, an episode
originally intended to be the series finale called “The Gift” in which Buffy
sacrifices herself to save her younger sister. This, while serving as a pretty blatant
Christian reference, also has power for me in that we live through acts of service to
others. As our hymnal says “and when life is done for me, let love be my legacy.”
By no means the final science fiction or fantasy influence to my faith
journey but the last one I have time for today is British author Terry Pratchett. A
prolific fantasy writer of over 70 books for adults and youth, he is perhaps best
known for his satirical fantasy universe called Discworld. Discworld rests on the
back of four elephants which stand on the back of an ancient turtle who swims
through space. Pratchett started Discworld as a send-up of Tolkein, Dungeons &
Dragons, and the Dragonlance novels that were popular in the 1980s, but became a
useful tool for him to comment upon and satirize much of contemporary life,
including the military, economy, politics, technology, medicine, pop culture. .
.basically any aspect of life as we know it.
Pratchett’s outlook can best be described as cynical humanism. When I
discussed this with a former minister, he gave the opinion that those two things
were in direct opposition and couldn’t co-exist, but I disagree. The tension created
in the simultaneous belief that a) people are right bastards and b) the wonder and
joy in human life is at the absolute heart of Pratchett’s moral universe, and also
mine. My favorite character in Discworld is hard-boiled police detective Sam
Vimes, who is both highly idealist and highly cynical, and also widely understood
to be a stand-in for Pratchett himself. Sam Vimes is anti-authoritarian while also
being an authority figure himself, a position which Pratchett notes is “practically
Zen.” These contradictions are just gorgeous to me. Life is messy, and so is
Discworld. The complexity is apropos to a UU.
Terry Pratchett passed away earlier this month at the age of 66 from
Alzheimer’s disease. His fellow author and friend Neil Gaiman wrote an essay
about him recently.
Terry’s authorial voice is always Terry’s: genial, informed, sensible, drily amused. I
suppose that, if you look quickly and are not paying attention, you might, perhaps, mistake it for
jolly. But beneath any jollity there is a foundation of fury.Terry Pratchett is not one to go gentle
into any night, good or otherwise.
He will rage, as he leaves, against so many things: stupidity, injustice, human foolishness
and shortsightedness, not just the dying of the light. And, hand in hand with the anger, like an
angel and a demon walking into the sunset, there is love: for human beings, in all our fallibility;
for treasured objects; for stories; and ultimately and in all things, love for human dignity.
Or to put it another way, anger is the engine that drives him, but it is the greatness of
spirit that deploys that anger on the side of the angels, or better yet for all of us, the orangutans.
Like Terry Pratchett, I hope to rage against injustice and human foolishness.
I hope to harness my anger to drive me to change my world, and to hold on to my
love for human dignity.
When I look at the six sources of the Unitarian Universalist living tradition I
see many which dovetail seamlessly with my acquired spirituality from Science
Fiction and Fantasy. The “Words and deeds of prophetic women and men which
challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion,
and the transforming power of love” are the works by visionary authors who wrote
stories to inspire us to fight evil and love fully. The books and movies I’ve
mentioned draw extensively from the world’s religions, including Christianity and
Judaism, and call us to love others as we love ourselves, even when the Other is
alien, dwarf, or “ensouled” vampire. Works of science fiction invariably hold up
the guidance of reason and the results of science while also serving to caution us
against the potential for the abuse of technology when used for the purposes of
idolatry and when used to interrupt the harmony of nature. If my sacred sources of
prophetic wisdom are science fiction and fantasy, then being a fan for me, is to be
a fanatic, one insanely but divinely inspired to live a life aligned with my Unitarian
Universalist principles.