Is Triumphant Victory our Destiny?

During a recent Zoom movie night, I watched A Quiet Place, Part II. I didn’t expect this thrill-a-minute journey through a post-American alien hellscape to remind me of the effects of the Enlightenment on storytelling and religion. I was wrong. 

Small Endings

[Note: I won’t spoil the movie here. But if you’re really excited to watch this film and haven’t gotten to it yet, it may be best to go watch it right now and then return to this piece.]

The movie’s ending—not the details of the ending, but the general nature of it—reminded me of various approaches to describing the “mission” of Christianity. Without giving away anything major, let’s just say that while the ending is positive, nothing significant is accomplished on a global, or even regional, level. The aliens are not exterminated. The human race has not reasserted itself. The silver bullet to defeating the invaders is teased but not actually known by more than a handful of people.

Instead, the triumph of the plot (as in the first movie) is one family’s endurance and survival.

What struck me was how the ending made me feel: That’s it? That’s all they accomplished? Where’s the epic victory? What I really wanted was a Grand Narrative. A destiny for humankind and a triumphant step toward that shining city where no armored murder-aliens will roam.

As I reflected, I noticed how this desire for a bigger ending called back to some of the things that first drew me to evangelicalism. I was told, as a teenager at youth group retreats, that Jesus has given us an epic mission—to make disciples of all nations. As we do this, we will face invisible and persistent opposition from the forces of evil. If and when we prevail, and the whole world has been evangelized, Jesus will return with a sword coming out of his mouth to vanquish all those who ever stood against this mighty purpose.

Talk about an epic narrative! And I was invited to play an important part in it!

Questioning Grand Narratives

The irony, perhaps, is how much this form of Christian narration relies on the Enlightenment and modernist thinking—the very movements that fundamentalism (and later evangelicalism) have always seen as threats to the faith. This particular Christian Grand Narrative borrows from these traditions in at least three ways: extreme individualism, mind/body dualism, and global utopia.

First, the mission is geared toward every individual in the world receiving the opportunity to accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior. Second, that decision occurs in a person’s mind and heart, so the quest is a rational, not physical, one (hence evangelicalism’s frequent antagonism toward environmentalism and other justice efforts). Third, the idea is that we—you and I and our fellow Christians—can take this one message to help bring about the salvation of all people in all places and all times.

This third trait is the one that screamed to me as I watched the small and abrupt ending to the alien movie. All Western modern metanarratives seem to end with a planet at peace. Whether it’s by the spread of liberal democracy, the common ownership of the means of production, or the gospel message being proclaimed to all people, there is one endgame. Everyone (or at least everyone who opts in to the salvific project) experiences lasting wholeness.

And what a worthy goal this is! But we have many reasons to question any simple formula for how we’ll get there. What will wholeness look like? Who will be included?

Another question, in response to the horror film I watched: what’s realistic for any one person, family, or church to accomplish? Do we need to feel like we’re part of a huge and decisive victory toward utopia?

Or can it be enough just to love? To work toward justice where we live? To follow Jesus and to sow peace?

Harbor Online Community might never epically change the world. But if you want to be part of a community that follows Jesus toward love, peace, and justice, let us know here.

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