7 - 21 - 19 Spiderman (not really) (3 minutes)

I just saw Spiderman: Far from Home and it was pretty entertaining. I thoroughly enjoyed it except for some instances of terrible cliché ridden writing.

But it got tugging at my heart. This desire for greatness. These delusions of grandeur. I recently wrote in my prayer journal about coming to terms with their fizzling away as I mature. But the movie got me wondering, how can I be a superhero?

Why does this appeal so strongly to us? Why does it appeal so strongly to me? Is it a mere egotistic desire to rise above? To be different, especially if that different is better? To be one of Nietzche’s gods? To have people know my name whose name I don’t know. To have power, glory, and honor.

There’s a scene where Peter Parker wants a different suit so people don’t know Spiderman is in Europe. But that’s ridiculous. People don’t know Spiderman is Spiderman because he’s wearing a red suit. They know it’s him because of what he does, his abilities. The man’s talents and strengths define him much more strongly and uniquely than any suit ever could.

And so his value to the public is likewise in the ways that he is of service. Nobody cares about Peter Parker, but they love Spiderman. A superhero isn’t a man, it’s just an image. Just a mask to hide a person who could never handle the life such fame would entail.

This call to greatness, will to power, the desire to be the kid who wins king of the hill, it is primal, and it is powerful. It may be the cause of more evil than good in the world, given how misaligned it is with humility.

One method of prayer is letting Christ gaze upon us, in all our iniquity and beauty. To be fully known by Him, to allow ourselves to be more fully known by those in our lives. We allow ourselves to be seen, because unless we are known we cannot be loved.

This call to greatness comes from the same place. We want to be seen and loved. But the order is different, the reasoning is different. The thinking is not, my lover is merciful and will forgive my flaws and appreciate my strengths. The thinking is, I will be good enough, and then they will all love the good they see in me. This is not love, this is just admiration.

I’ve had admiration, and I’ve had love. They are not to be compared.

The call to greatness, fame, and power says: “Look at me.” See the beautiful parts of me and admire. See the powerful parts of me and quiver. See the desirable parts of me and throw yourself at me.

This other thing, this acceptance of ourselves. This radical self-acceptance that allows a person to do what they can, even when it is very little and poor, without shame. This says: “See me.” See my wounds and let me tell you how to heal them in yourself. See my strength and let me show you the challenges that cultivated it. See that I am broken, see that I am beautiful, a complete mess that could not be more beautiful than I am.

Vanity of vanities. Seventy are our years, or eighty if we are strong. And most of these, struggle and toil.

I will be what I can, to whom I can, when I can. Never forgetting, I am just a man.