This showed up as a draft for some reason yesterday, so I decided to repost it today. It was written more than a year ago.


Like most boys growing up, Superman was one of my favorite superheroes.

“Superman Returns.”

Without reviewing the movie or really making any comment on the movie itself, I want to focus on a line that caught my attention.

Superman meets up with Lois Lane on the roof of the Daily Planet. He had been gone for 5 years exploring space trying to find remnants of his home planet Krypton. During his absence, Lois wrote an article entitled “Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman” for which she was receiving a pulitzer prize. After an awkward exchange, Superman invites Lois to go with him so he can show her something. In the conversation, she makes the comment, “The world doesn’t need a savior…”

As they fly high above overlooking not just the city, but most of the Eastern Seaboard, Superman stops and asks Lois what she hears. Her answer is nothing. He replies, (I may be slightly paraphrasing as I did not write down word for word what he said) “I hear everything. The cries, the terror, the violence. You say the world doesn’t need a savior, then why do I hear them calling for one?”

In the midst of writing a Hollywood film, the writers of this movie got something profoundly right. There are many in society today that would espouse the idea that the world doesn’t need a savior. Everywhere we turn, the voices are clamoring that human ingenuity, intelligence, science, entertainment, success, achievement, or any number of other things will solve our problems. The political parties are constantly blaming the other for the woes of the world and desperately hoping we will believe they have the answers. Many are saying, no, many are screaming that the world doesn’t need a savior. Like a child throwing a temper tantrum that they don’t need their parents, stomping their feet, and slamming their door, there are those that want us to believe we can do this on our own.

Calmly, quietly, Jesus asks us what we hear and what we see. Then He reminds us that He sees and hears it all. He lets us know the world is calling out for a savior. If we will just listen and if we will open our eyes and look, we, too, will see the fields are white unto harvest. The world is calling and He is trying to answer and show up, but He has to wait on us to go and pray that God will raise up laborers for the harvest.

While Superman can fly fast and get around quickly, almost seeming to be everywhere, he can be only one place at a time. Superman cannot save a soul. Most importantly, Superman does not exist.

Jesus, however, is everywhere and He is right here all at once. Jesus died to bring true salvation, eternal salvation for all. Jesus is real.

1 comment

  1. Pastor,

    Speaking of Superman…no, no, no. I felt closest to Batman. As it turned out.

    The night before Vincent Price was to appear as the Joker in the Batman TV series filmed in NY, he appeared before me in assigned seating directly across the table in the Wilmington Delaware Hotel Dupont, As a renown art critic, he was hosting the Sears sale of low-priced “masterpieces.” In what was to become my 20 years with the World’s then #1 retailer, this was to become no ordinary tuxed night.

    Horror upon horror, the Prince of Horror, chinny-chin-chin upon table top, attempting to impressed two young lasses at his either side, starred down quiet, minding my own business, me, eye ball to eye ball. “You don’t drink or smoke, do ya?” he slurred. When I answered, most-respectfully, in the negative, he retorted to the two babes that be. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand. IT’S A BORE!” Which I took as a compliment, actually. You might even say it was a Sleep Awakening.

    And so it was, Mr. & Mrs. Sleep left the party early, missing the unscheduled midnight acrobatic display of the evening. Sir Vincent, in stocking feet, sliding down the hotel banister to a cheering crowd of fans.

    When I think back to the Golden Age of Comic Books and my senior, senior age of the moment, I’m reminded over and over, only God could have written the script.

    Just wonderin as I wonder.

    As always,

    Seniorously,

    gar

    The Prince of Horror began the evening already

    g

    s

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