This post is brought to you by the one and only Jeremiah Lawson aka Wenatchee the Hatchet.
It might be because I’ve been reading Mark Noll’s America’s God but in the 21st century it can seem that the ideal deity for Americans might just be the Force. With the arrival of Episode VII, The Force Awakens, it appears that Star Wars has the magic back. Yeah, it’s basically the stuff we’ve seen before, but it’s what we’ve wanted to see that we didn’t see in the prequels. Gone are the inept attempts at Greco-Roman tragedy for Anakin Skywalker. Gone are talk of midichlorians and their nebulous relationship to the Force. We’re back to the Force being activated by the power of your belief in it and the stuff that unites the dark and light.
Anthony Lane playfully wrote that the new subtitle is apt, since it sure seems as if the Force was asleep at the wheel in cinemas for the last few decades. But perhaps we should say that the Force itself is not awakened in the new film so much as that the Force awakens. In a galaxy where no one who embraces the light side of the Force will stand up to the darkness, we get a story in which the Force, so to speak, forces the issue of who is willing to fight the good fight.
Fortunately, the deserting storm trooper Finn, the ace Resistance pilot Poe Dameron, and our pretty clearly presented new hero Rey respond to the call. Or do they? The Force was described in the old films as an energy field that exists between all living things. It has no personality with which to call on a person does it? Even if it does have a personality, the Force is perhaps the perfect American deity. It responds to your belief in it and your belief in it permits you to gain fantastic abilities. Those who don’t believe in the Force in this universe Lucas created may be lucky or unlucky like Han Solo, but, once you choose to believe in and make use of the Force, then you are bound for a path of glory, regardless of whether that path is into the light or into the darkness.
The Seattle area film critic Charles Mudede has mentioned in his review of the new Star Wars film that Abrams and company have brought back the Star Wars we have known and loved. One of the foremost things that has been brought back, as Mudede has mentioned, is the theology. You can’t really discuss Star Wars films without getting into religion. I agree, and what is so definitive about the Star Wars franchise, as an exercise in American pop theology, is its irreducibly Pelagian heart. The Force may well be America’s God, its real god, the ultimate nebulously impersonal personal force of moral therapeutic deism.
The Force in itself is just the energy field; the light or dark side of the Force isn’t defined except by what those who use it decide to do with it. If you seek to self-actualize in a way that helps other people self-actualize, or helps them in some fashion, then you’re on the side of angels. If you use the Force to intimidate and self-actualize yourself at the expense of others, that’s the dark side. It’s not necessarily about how a Jedi always uses the Force for defense, never for attack. If that’s what was really going on, then Yoda should have been a Sith lord in the prequels for the number of stormtroopers he killed. While Anakin’s path to the dark side was strewn with murders, it was his decision to murder the Emperor in order to save the life of his son, Luke, which led to his redemption and joining the Light. A curious paradox–whether a person is on the dark or light side of the Force hinges on whether or not you kill the right person at the right time for the right reasons. But there it is.
There’s no need for spoilers if you haven’t seen the film, and yet it’s no spoiler to say that, in this restored cinematic franchise, the Force doesn’t exactly make a lot of decisions or get speeches. The Force responds to people like Kylo Renn and Rey. Kylo Renn uses the Force to interrogate people and extract information from them to get what he wants; Rey uses the Force to impel brainwashed stormtroopers to help her escape capture. Kylo Renn is caught in the midst of emotional ambivalence between a quest for power and a residual desire for human connection on the one hand, while Rey is eager to reunite with a family long lost without realizing that so doing she is running from the surrogate family that has been taking shape around her. The Force does nothing to clarify things for either Kylo Renn or Rey, but once they choose, and believe the Force is real, the Force responds to their wishes.
The magic is back. Star Wars is a franchise that has cast off the shoddy aspirations toward Greco-Roman tragedy looking at the life of an Anakin Skywalker who is waylaid by the overweening passions and anxieties of his mortal self. We’re given a new episode that returns the franchise to its Pelagian heart. Everything is up to you. You have a destiny, but your destiny is entirely in your control and defined by what you do. As we saw with Darth Vader’s redemption, even a lifetime of killing and terrorizing can be redeemed by one well-chosen and well-timed act of kindness. Then, just like that, you’re on the side of angels and redeemed.
Even people who would scoff at the genre trappings of Star Wars may still ardently believe in these sacred tenets. People can scoff at the plot formality in which one decision made by one person has consequences that change the fate of an entire galaxy. But don’t we have plenty of cinematic tales year after year, sans sci-fi or fantasy trappings, telling stories of individuals who brave the odds and face evil empires to save people? Concussion may not be so different from The Force Awakens in the core ideals it espouses. For the sake of these ideals, the idea that one person can make a decision or take a stand that “changes everything,” we can pretty easily overlook details of historical accuracy, just as we can ignore the question of whether or not Han Solo and crew could survive pulling the Millennium Falcon out of light speed flight only after entering the atmosphere of a weaponized planet.
But Star Wars is unique in distilling American pop mythology and theology in a way that seems to reflect our ideals and aspirations, even if we’re not always clear about what those mean. If Star Wars is a fairy tale or a mythology that expresses American ideals, what is that ideal? That the Force is just an energy field that responds to our commands, a nebulous it/thing that unites darkness and light. The only thing we can tell for sure from those who choose to believe in the Force and wield it is that, whether they choose a path toward the dark side or the light, they are choosing a path that inevitably leads to merited glory. Maybe the Force is America’s real god after all.
COMMENTS
12 responses to “Paths to Glory Light and Dark: Star Wars Recovers Its Pelagian Heart”
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Hatchet:
You’re right in as much as how Star Wars might popularly received. But I think you’re being too hard and critical. Particularly, I’m puzzling over your Vader description.
Vader didn’t just become a “good guy”. Star Wars gets caught between Lucas’ Christian sentiments and his Buddhist sentiments. In my viewing, Vader is more like the thief on the cross. The point was what Luke kept preaching: it’s never too late to turn back, no one is ever too far-gone. Vader turning on the Emperor and throwing him down the pit, despite it mortally wounded, is really no different than the thief telling the other thief to stop hurling insults.
So while the new Star Wars is infected with perhaps a Disney Universe kind of outcome, it’s not necessarily hopelessly self-help. The fact that the Force “awakens” people adds another incoherent, contradictory dimension to the Star Wars Universe that might make for weird, but interesting, plot twists.
cal
While I always appreciate an attempt to look seriously at the Force, and respect the author, I am going to disagree here.
Not only is this guy way too dismissive of Episode 3 (shoddy my foot,) I think he gets the Force wrong.
To say “You have a destiny, but your destiny is entirely in your control and defined by what you do” is way off.
All six previous films are centered around the fulfillment of an inescapable prophesy. The narrative is dominated by prophetic dreams and domineering visions. The Force has an unavoidable will that is routinely discussed and never escaped.
Seven (spoiler warning, for those who care) doesn’t “[return] the franchise to its Pelagian heart,” but carries on in expressing the Force in non-Pelagian ways.
The Force calls to Rey, choosing her specifically. She is chosen by the force, much like Anakin. This is not dependent on her will (were it, she would refuse the call) but is distinctly non-Pelagian. Furthermore, when Kylo Ren prays to Darth Vader’s mask, he is asking for the Dark Side to destroy his attachment to the Light, but he clearly cannot sever the Light’s “call.” The Light exists in him in ways that he cannot shut out. Its will is beyond his own.
Furthermore, there are clearly those the Force has chosen (they are given Force abilities) and those it has not. It is not dependent on human will, but on the will of the Force.
If Star Wars reflects America’s religion, our religion is not Pelagian.
cal, a bandit on a cross rebuking another man on a cross is a statement, Vader killing the Emperor at the end of Ep 6 is doing something. For Mockingbird readers who have been around for a while this is what we can call “works of the law” salvation. Vader’s salvation was in killing the right person, whereas his turn to the Dark Side had involved killing the wrong people.
Luke, you probably remember Kenobi talking with Luke about the Force
From Star Wars (Ep 4)
BK: Remember, a Jedi can feel the Force flowing through him.
LS: You mean it controls your actions?
BK: Partially, but it can also obey your commands.
Kenobi described the Force as partially being able to control an individual’s action but also obeying an individual’s commands. If the Force calls to those who practice the light does it not call to those who seek to practice the dark side? If not, why not? If Anakin had an inescapable destiny then the Force ensured he turned to the Dark Side and aided in the massacre of the Jedi because the Force willed it. In terms of formal plot points the way Anakin brought balance to the Force was killing everyone or aiding in the killing of everyone who practiced the ways of the Force. If the Force has a personality and a sentient will what’s the benefit of having a prophesied chosen one directly or cooperatively massacre all those who practice the ways of the Force?
Wenatchee,
Again I really appreciate the direction here, so while I disagree with you, I am delighted to be with you in this discussion.
Kenobi’s discussion with Luke seems to indicate a separation between the Force’s control (a firm and inescapable destiny) and the mechanical, magical Force. Force users may use the energy around them to manipulate their environment, but “The Force” has a will of its own that cannot be escaped.
In The Attack of the Clones, Anakin dreams that his mother will die on Tatooine. Despite his hurried and rash efforts, Shmi dies. In Revenge of the Sith, he dreams that Padme will die. Terrified, because the will of the Force is inescapable, he desperately seeks after a way to raise her from the dead or keep her from dying, as a way to allow the dream to come true, but invalidate its consequences. This attempt to defeat fate ends up causing the fate to happen in an Oedipan paradox. Fate, the will of the Force, is inescapable.
In the original trilogy, Luke receives a vision on Dagobah that his friends would suffer great pain in a city in the clouds. He tries to stop this on Bespin, but is completely unable to avoid this fate. It happens inevitably.
I’ve already gone over all of the Force’s domineering will in the new film.
While it is true that the Force uses Anakin through the Dark Side to destroy Force users, that confusion does not show the Force as will-less, or dependent on the user, but as mysterious and perplexing. It also shows that perhaps the Jedi have gotten the Force wrong, and perhaps even the Jedi were abusing the Force in their military and political fashion.
Wenatchee,
A statement is also “doing something”. Speaking is a kind of action. So yes, a speech-act of rebuke or the physical (albeit violent) act of throwing someone off a balcony are within the same category. And you are making a jump of logic to say that these things are what “saved” them. We are viewers. Clearly, in Anakin’s case, something happened inside where his affections changed. His love for his son burned out his hatred.
Vader’s salvation was not in killing the right person, nor was his damnation in killing the wrong people. The whole third movie shows the inner transformation, how fear and envy slowly corrupted his mind, to the point where he was willing to massacre younglings. So yes, a tangible act (especially a scripted, cinematographical act) reveals, solidifies what had been happening inwards. Do you want to deny this?
Again, Star Wars reveals something of America’s metaphysical imagination. We believe in people’s unbounded will, but believe in destiny. We believe something is out there, that is good and benevolent, but we’re forcefully reductionistic and materialistic. There is a hope for redemption, but clear cut good and bad guys. Star Wars reflects a mix of Christian, Darwinian, Buddhist(ish), Modern Paganism thinking.
But to pigeon-hole this as Pelagian is fitting facts to theory.
Was up late last night and this occurred to me. I initially thought of the new installment as average at best, but after a couple weeks of it ‘working’ on me (unconsciously), I now see the genius behind saving Luke for the final moment! Upon second consideration of Force Awakens, I now see a picture of sovereign grace as Jesus describes it in John 3 and Paul details it in Romans 8 through 11. The villains can’t ‘find’ Luke Skywalker, The resistance can’t ‘find’ Luke. Rey finds Luke, but only after and because Luke firstly finds and…summons her. Now, this is purely my own speculation (I obviously was not behind the writing), but that final moment in the film implies for me, or rather I infer from that last scene that all along, Luke Skywalker controlled Rey’s destiny and predestined her path. I think it’s possible that just Luke summoned Leia while dangling helplessly from Bespin’s weather vane, he was somehow able to summon Rey from the shadows of anonymity and her ignorance of her identity. I think each moment from Poe connecting with Max VS’s character to Rey ‘discovering’ her powers, and especially the splitting of the ground right before Rey could have killed Ren, was controlled, directed, guided, and implemented by Luke. Similarly, we cannot find grace or find God by way of hunt or pursuit. God can remain hidden from us for as long as He desires (Matt 11:27). God will be found when He wants to be found. And He will be found after He firstly finds us. Previously, in SW films, we have primarily seen the Force as an impersonal entity moving and directing ‘all things’, but this time, we see a personal dimension added as Luke becomes the personal agent actually calling Rey. It’s even possible that it wasn’t so much the lightsaber that called her in the basement of Maz’s castle, but rather Luke by way of the lightsaber. Grace works behind the scenes calling us from obscurity, death, and darkness – Luke worked behind the scenes orchestrating all events together (even Han’s death) to accomplish a purpose for which we will have to wait to see unfold over two more sequels. While he appeared ‘lost’, He was actually completely in control in a universe torn apart by war and conflict. Sounds familiar.
What’s been interesting reading critical reactions to Episode 7 has been to spot what looks like a divide between viewers and critics who were old enough to see the homage in 1977 and those who didn’t grow up seeing Flash Gordon, for instance. Anyone about 40 and under has a cultural memory of how “fresh” Star wars was, while others dismissed it as derivative homage.
Luke, since the canon for Star Wars is open-ended there’s plenty of room to redefine what the Force is and whether midichlorians are involved. 🙂 I’ve restricted my case to just the feature length films, and have set aside the expanded universe because it’s not clear how much of that is canon or how much of that may be ret-conned out of continuity just yet. So while I didn’t see any compelling evidence that the Force is sentient with a will of its own or a personality in Episodes 1-6 that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for that aspect to develop in the franchise.
There’s also definitely room to explore the idea that both the Jedi and the Sith have misunderstood or misused the Force, although Lucas and company have not necessarily given a lot of clear indications about that; by contrast, some fairly detailed proposals came up in the ring cycle explanation of Episodes 1-6 Mbird linked to earlier.
Cal, the Force, as a religion in Episodes 4-6 can be construed in synergistic terms and even Pelagian terms based on the films so far. There’s room for debate, of course, but it seems that the anthropology in the Star wars franchise is pretty high, if not quite as high as the anthropology in Star Trek. 🙂 The Force has a dark side and a light side based on how people use it. Luke seems to have the best case that the Force has aw ill, though it’s necessarily spare. It could be argued that the vision Luke had in the cave that Yoda said was full of the Dark side was the truest revelation Luke got in the franchise. Vader simply told Luke what the Force had already revealed. Being born from the Force itself (or the Force as wielded by a Sith Lrd, which can be taken as implicit in some of the lore shared in Ep 3) is not guarantee of not falling to the Dark side. But it may be too simplistic to say Anakin fell to darkness because of fear. Yoda and other Jedi were concerned Palpatine would invoke imperial powers and dissolve the Senate and things like that and those fears turned out to be justified.
Of the commenters so far Luke makes what I consider the best case from the films for his perspective. What’s less persuasive is leaning on comparisons to biblical texts to explain affection for the franchise. I liked Episodes 4-6 and I enjoyed Episode 7, but I wouldn’t go so far as to propose that anything like a Christian monergistic soteriology is latent or explicit in the franchise. Vader still does something to merit his salvation, after all. While Luke could make a case for the Force willing Vader’s actions, that raises a question of just how supralapsarian everyone else wants the Force to make Vader’s fall out to be.
While, I would agree that the theology/philosophy underscoring the Star Wars saga is not completely or explicitly Christian, I think what makes at least the original trilogy ultimately ‘work’ and appeal to viewers are the traces of the gospel that ultimately supersede the Buddhist and New Age tendencies that run throughout it. For all the emphasis on ‘the Force’ that characterized the 1970’s/80’s films, in the final and decisive hour, ‘the Force’ did not save the day, but rather weakness and death (Isaiah 53:5, 2 Cor 12:10). I do believe that the reasons even nonbelieving artists create compelling stories and that even non-Christian audiences enjoy them and find them timeless and transcendent ultimately flows from a fallen man’s inability to escape from and suppress truth (Rom 1, Acts 17). God’s truth is so interwoven into the very fabric of the universe that even when pagans attempt to tell stories and create art they cannot help but reflect God’s truth – albeit broken, distorted, and fragmented. In that moment for example when Vader destroys the Emperor, I believe he was redeemed and saved prior to committing the action. I don’t believe his action of throwing Palpatine down the shaft saved him – I believe seeing his son tortured as a willing substitute and sacrifice changed his heart and rescued him from darkness. If we put all six movies together, I personally cannot help but see Obi Wan’s confusion and disappointment at Anakin’s fall to the dark side as reminiscent of the despair the Emmaus road disciples felt when they complained, ‘and we thought He was going to be the One to save our nation…’. So, Anakin’s fall to the darkside was part of fulfilling the prophecy that he would rebalance the force. It’s just that no one expected that balancing act to happen by way of the Vader-transition. Just as we often think of God’s saving power as coming through strength, might, and works-righteousness, I am sure that in the Star Wars universe, Obi Wan and friends expected Anakin to ‘save’ the force’s equilibrium by way of fighting against the forces of darkness – not becoming an agent of evil – and yet this was instrumental in the overall Star Wars salvation plan (Adam’s fall was instrumental in God’s plan to send Christ). Again, this isn’t a perfect 1-to-1 correlation with Biblical theology, but I think there’s enough there at least ‘in principle’ to suggest derivation from Scripture and the Biblical storyline. Returning to Vader’s redemption in ROTJ: I see in that scene a picture of external suffering happening outside of Vader as the effectual agent in saving him from darkness. Just as we by faith view the suffering of Jesus on the cross as an action and event that occurs outside of us (versus any kind of internal volitional work we can do to save ourselves) and thereby receive salvation, so Vader seeing this ‘substitutionary sacrificial’ son suffering gets saved (in Christianity, the Father sends the Son to save the world – in Lucas’ world, the Son redeems the Father!). Is this a perfect representation of the doctrine of atonement? No, of course not. After all, it is just a movie, but I think enough of the overtones are there to make a case for saying that in the most important and pivotal moment in the entire original six-part series which Lucas has said is essentially about ‘the redemption of Anakin Skywalker’, the Biblical narrative and the imagery of what took place at the cross inform why we love this story. Another example of how the Biblical narrative has influenced the SW saga comes from Rev 12/Matt 2 and the nativity account insofar as it fits into the context of the Gen 3:15 prophecy whence the Scriptures flow (Luke 24:25-27). In the original 1977 version and to a large extent in Force Awakens, we are immediately drawn into and captivated by a story about a lord of the realm of darkness who pursues a woman who carries something vulnerable and small that yet poses a threat to the reign and kingdom of darkness. And even in that episode, Obi Wan ‘wins’ and becomes stronger through death, in Empire, Luke fails b/c he cannot overcome the sith within (nor does he understand his own propensity to evil as implied in the cave vision), in Jedi, Yoda is wise b/c he recognizes his limitations with the force right before becoming complete thru dying…and of course, Luke becomes a mighty Jedi thru suffering, sacrifice, and weakness…and saves his dad and the galaxy. All these major plot points and distinctions as to what made the jedi so awesome derive from the gospel’s celebration of weakness and dying over strength and works-righteousness. Star Wars may not consistently preach Christian doctrine throughout, but I love the irony that the traces of the gospel that spring up here and there throughout the films subtly overshadow the more familiar and popular elements like ‘the force’, lightsabers, x wing fighters, super star destroyers, etc.
while I’m still a fan of Episodes 4-6 as they’ve long since been called, I cautious about attempts to explain a fondness for the series by a quickness to invoke analogies to biblical narrative. What this can often risk becoming is baptizing affection for an artifact of pop culture by way of invoking comparisons to biblical texts whether or not a compelling and plausible case can be made that the creative team was necessarily working in Christian terms. This happens all too often with Superman, for instance, a character invented by two Jewish immigrants. In many pop culture cases it seems both wiser and more defensible to articulate how a pop culture artifact reflects upon the culture that embraces it rather than trying to shoe-horn a “Christian” theme on to the narrative.
This baptism of the liked is something that only tends to happen with unusually popular things that Christians feel “safe” to enjoy. It just doesn’t seem likely that someone will propose that Pam Poovey and Cheryl Tunt are like the foolish virgins, for instance, because a whole lot of Christians might not necessarily admit they even watch the show Archer. I don’t usually see deep Christological analogies coming from people for Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead films, Game of Thrones, or James Bond. I think that it makes more sense to cast Star Wars in terms of what it suggests about America (ditto Superman) than the modes of explicitly Christian civic religion so often formulated by Christians writing about pop culture.
Part of Star Wars’ appeal is that it is in some sense, for all its genre trappings, the blankest possible slate in terms of underlying content while being rich in genre trope appropriation. It does not seem coincidental to me that the more firmly Lucas made films in which he declared to us what they were supposed to mean and how significant they were supposed to be as a mythology for our time the more self-important and pedestrian the films became. For a director like Lucas, there’s something to be said for aiming low (pleasure and visuals) and staying there. If the original Star Wars could be Ridley Scott’s Alien then in some sense the prequels were Prometheus.
I appreciate your insight. You’ve given me something to consider.
For those who haven’t read the blog before, there’s a companion piece to this essay I wrote that is over at another blog. It seems that it’s too easy for film critics to complain about compounded nostalgia without even attempting to propose “what” the nostalgia is for and “why” it might be so pervasive. Not just talking about Star Wars here but about the Star Trek reboot (that many fans said failed to do homage to the ideals of the property), Planet of the Apes, Alien, Robocop, Terminator and other sci-fi franchises from the late 1970s to early 1980s on the one hand, or the 1960s on the other. Berlatsky has written on how sci-fi keeps imagining the enslavement of modern white Western societies.
http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/04/why-sci-fi-keeps-imagining-the-enslavement-of-white-people/361173/
Inching forward with this idea, Berlatsky’s premise could be forwarded as explaining why it seems the franchises we come back to, so to speak, and keep buying, clustered around the Reagan era and the JFK/Johnson era. If we have a nostalgia it may be for those eras in which the US came closest to nuclear exchange on the one hand, and on the other, when Americans imagined we could introduce ideas and technology that could save the world.
http://wenatcheethehatchet.blogspot.com/2016/01/nostalgia-and-anxieties-of-empire.html
It may be in the end that sci-fi does not truly contemplate a possible future so much as offer an expression of the aspirations and anxieties of a colonialist present, perhaps? 😉