Defending Spiderman

     There's no doubt about it: The Amazing Spiderman is a superior movie to the original webslinger trilogy. The graphics are better, the acting is better, the humor is funnier, and the script is less cheesy; all around, it's just a higher-class act.  Yet something in me wants to defend the originals.  After careful thought, I think I have a handle on why I feel that way.
     Peter Parker's story, at its most quintessential, is the story of a kid growing into a man.  People mock the Tobey Maguire portrayal because he spends so much time crying and feeling sorry for himself.  In a culture obsessed with charismatic personalities who seem to have it all together, Peter definitely breaks the mold of Hollywood action-heroes.  There isn't an ounce of "cool" in him.  It's a far cry from Andrew Garfield's portrayal, with his skateboard and perfect hair.  Sure, he makes the occasional awkward remark, but I have a very hard time seeing anyone that attractive being ostracized at any public school.  At the very least, he would have hordes of adoring fangirls.
     But here's the thing: personally, it's easier to identify with an awkward Peter than with a Peter who's always ready with an unrealistically witty comment.  True, Spiderman is supposed to have classic snark, which is why I think the newer version captures the heroics better.  But it seems that the original captured the spirit of seeking manhood through life's difficulties.
     The best heroes, in my opinion, are the ones who teach us lessons.  Christopher Nolan's Batman teaches us to stand for decency and hope in an indecent, hopeless world.  Mathew Vaughn's Charles Xavier teaches us to defend even those who hate us, to become the better men.  And Spiderman teaches us that if we have the ability to help someone, to right a wrong, then we have the responsibility to do so.  "With great power comes great responsibility" is thrown around so often that it's become trite and cliched.  But unlike the "morals" found in many popular stories, this is more than a catchphrase.  Maybe we could better say, "With any power comes some responsibility."  Befriend someone lonely or do a mundane task to the best of your ability.  Exercise responsibility in the little things.  Later, when you face greater decisions, you'll possess a character that drives you to make right choices.  Along with Spiderman's story, this concept can be found another place: Luke 16:10.  "With great power comes great responsibility" possesses meaning that we can apply to our own lives, whether uttered by Tobey Maguire or Andrew Garfield.
     For myself, I simply find it easier to connect with that lesson when it comes from someone identifiable, with realistic struggles and emotions, rather than someone whose level of Hollywood perfection I can never hope to attain.

Switchfoot's Reaction to Protesting

     Earlier this evening (I guess it was technically yesterday), I had the pleasure of attending a Switchfoot concert at Indiana Wesleyan University.  For a long time, this band has been important to me.  I can honestly say that their lyrics have had profound influence in shaping who I am as a person, including my views of the world, myself, and my faith.  Switchfoot's music, with its messages of hope and non-conformity, helped me outlast a dark year of depression.  It taught me not to worry if I can't understand the social games that friends and classmates seem to glide through so easily, and not to consider the label of "weird, socially-awkward kid always imagining things" as bad.  This said, seeing Switchfoot perform in concert was almost like a victory.

     During the concert, Switchfoot's lead singer, Jon Foreman, mentioned some protesting that occurred a few concerts prior, describing it as a humbling experience even as he expressed respect for anyone who forms their own opinions about a subject, particularly subjects of faith.  That category included the protesters.

     I assumed that it was a secular group protesting the religious nature of Switchfoot's lyrics.  I was correct about what was being protested.  However, I completely missed the mark regarding the identity of the protesters.

    After returning from the concert, curiosity drove me to do some research.  It turns out that members of a conservative church, "Consuming Fire Fellowship," camped outside the concert venue with signs, megaphones, and an arsenal of KJV references.  And the event wasn't isolated: apparently Switchfoot has been protested by various "Christian" groups at numerous venues recently.  My instinct was indignation: I couldn't think of anything more likely to drive people away from Christ.  But Jon Foreman had a very different response.

     He encouraged his audience to somehow show love to the protesters as they left that evening.  And in one of the videos I watched, he actually approached the screaming preacher with a case of bottled waters; a gesture meant to convey his love for them and his appreciation for their expression of opinion.

     For Jon and the band, the situation must be incredibly stressful.  They've spent their lifetimes attempting to convey messages of love and hope, and now they're being condemned as Satan-worshipers by people claiming to serve the very God for whom they're singing.  But Jon's reaction was touchingly Christlike.  Hopefully, the result of this incident will be more people glimpsing Jon's faith, a faith motivating him to love his enemies, rather than people seeing and being disgusted by the legalism that motivates "Christians" to chant "Sin! Sin! Sin!" into megaphones pointed at other Christians.

     For an article and interesting video-clips about the protesting, visit:
 http://www.faithit.com/switchfoot-church-protest-jon-foreman-loving-response/

     I highly recommend watching the clips.  Both of them are more than worth the short time they will take, particularly as you observe Jon's attitude towards the protesters.  And they're a little entertaining, in the way that something fascinatingly horrifying is entertaining.