First things first! 😀 On Saturday, Sharon Hinck nominated me for a blogging award:
Quite an honor! 😉 And of course I want to pass it on to others worthy of notice, but I feel bad that it’s such a limiting award, clearly denying any of the rockin’ guy bloggers a chance to win. Not to mention that there are many, many bloggers who deserve attention. It’s just not possible to mention everyone. So I’ll pass the mantle of Rockin’ Girl Blogger on to these three:
- Merrie Destefano of Alien Dream
- Brandilyn Collins of Forensics and Faith (this kind of award is right up Brandilyn’s alley! 🙂 )
- Karen Hancock of Writing from the Edge (who could undoubtedly care less that she’s nominated and may not even learn of the honor unless I email her. 😀 )
Now on to the serious – and in my opinion, excellent – discussion started by Bryan Polivka about heroes in Christian fiction. If you haven’t taken time to read the comments to Friday’s post, I suggest you do. I’ll try to keep my own thoughts brief to allow you time to read what other visitors had to say.
The discussion seems to center on whether or not Jesus was weak. I appreciated Nicole’s differentiation between weak and meek. Jesus is not weak. He did not cease being God, and God is omnipotent. Consequently, any appearance of weakness is not the true picture. That he refrained from using His omnipotence, that He donned the skin of mortal man does not change the fact that He is still eternal God, there from the foundation of the world.
In fact, for Him to clothe Himself in the form of a bondservant when He is Lord of all is an indication of His strength. To have power and then to refrain from using it that others might benefit is the ultimate indicator of genuine strength.
So here’s how I see the choices before Christian authors who wish to accurately reflect spiritual reality.
- Show the “hero” protagonist who does the nobel, powerful, winning act but clearly is depending on God’s power, not his own. I suggest this is the kind of approach Sharon Hinck took in The Restorer. Perhaps this was Donita Paul’s approach as well.
- Create a “hero” protagonist who is a type of Christ. I think Bryan Davis used this approach in Circles of Seven.
- Show the “hero” protagonist who comes through the struggle to relinquish his power and let God win the victory. This is what I believe Karen Hancock and Bryan Polivka worked toward in their novels.
- Show the protagonist as not the hero, but another character, a type or symbol of Christ, becomes the story hero. This is the approach I used in Lore of Efrathah.
It seems to me each of these has some risk. Will readers think God’s intervention is the dreaded deus ex machina? Will the readers think the protagonist is wimpy or whiny or weak? Will readers find the protagonist unengaging? Will readers feel cheated that the protagonist isn’t the hero?
I suppose we each have to choose the approach that allows us to write the truth to the best of our ability … and then we live with the consequences.
I will add, I applaud writers who do not settle for the pay-back mentality of today’s secular heroes. Protagonists in Christian novels, in my opinion, should be different from those in secular novels. By different, however, I don’t think they have to be unlikeable. Clearly there’s more to explore with this subject.
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A Christian Worldview of Fiction 
I would suggest these “hero” types relate more to the action-driven plots as opposed to character-driven. I was trying to fit my protagonists into these four types but couldn’t arrive at a satisfactory niche. Perhaps there is one more category for them such as the hero who is flawed (not unlikable)and desires to follow God but errs and must succumb to the consequences of his sin, but is ultimately restored (i.e. the David experience(s)). ??
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First, yeah to you, Becky for your nomination! You rock! And thanks for passing the mantle. Very nice.
Second, and I whole heartedly agree that this is an excellent and serious discussion, the topic of Christ’s strength or weakness. I have read through the posts mentioned and felt some spiritual hairs raising on the back of my neck, until Nicole bravely pointed out that Christ was “meek” not “weak.”
It may not seem like a big differentiation, but I believe it is. There was no weakness in my savior, nor is there today. He submitted to the authority of God, but I don’t think that is a characteristic of a weak person. Most of the weak people I know are still in rebellion. Most of the humble people I know have submitted. But that’s neither here nor there. Jesus was both God and man, He is more than I can ever be.
I like the categories you listed, Becky, the options that Christian writers can use as they cast their characters. The main character I’m working with right now is at times a type of Adam and at other times a type of Christ. He goes back and forth between anti-hero and hero. I think he has Christ-like characteristerics which will become more evident toward the end of the book, but he doesn’t quite fit into one category. I guess he is more like Frodo. Reluctant, yet willing to do what he has to in order to save the ones he loves.
A great series of discussions, once again.
My vote: Meek.
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I think that Sally merely meant that Christ “took on” weakness for your sakes. He was flesh–that was his weakness. As it is our weakness.
As a human, Christ was meek. He had knowledge and wisdon beyond common man–merely because he knew how to tap into the power of His Father–but he didn’t shove it in people’s faces.
I would also say that it urks me when the Church makes Christ seem all cream-puff and sweat. Christ was not silent–he was not still. He didn’t try to tip-toe around people’s feelings. He told the truth and fought for truth–and had anger when it was time to have anger. He struggled and fought with his own flesh. He even struggled with the thought of going to the cross.
And God didn’t swoop in at the last second and save the day. Christ died. He suffered. And in real life this happens too. That’s why the deus ex machina–even “god” lead–bugs me so much. That’s not how it happens. We live in a world of pain and suffering. God walks us through it–but we still have to walk.
I believe a true hero is one that battles within himself, but does the true and good thing regarless of price. This is why he is a hero.
My 2 cents–if it even makes any sense. 😉
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I agree, Pixy, about the silent, soft-touch Jesus. C’mon. He was when it was the best, and he knew when or when not to be via the Spirit.
I would only disagree slightly from this “weak” flesh thing. Because He was residing in the flesh, He got to “feel” the temptations of humanity in His flesh, knowing how horrible and brutal the Cross was going to be. But we sometimes overlook the power of that sinless Blood that ran through Him–it wasn’t stained with sin like human blood, therefore His flesh was incorruptible. That’s why He surrendered Himself to death on that Cross.
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I feel the need to clarify–heh heh, don’t all writers always feel that need:
When I say Christ is weak I do not mean in a moral sense at all. He is supremely strong. Meekness, as has been pointed out, is hugely strong and not weak. When I admitted that Christ was weak I simply meant that his body was weak–made of dust like the rest of us–and able to be destroyed.
I think Bryan started off speaking about weakness in the moral sense, though. So I muddied the waters by saying I realized Christ was weak in one sense. I think Bryan meant that in the eyes of the world, meekness is seen as weakness. In the eyes of Talon, he said, Christ was weak.
The world is wrong, of course. The action heroes of movies who set out for revenge are weak but the world sees them as strong. And Bryan is right to shoot for a character who proves himself strong by refusing to fight for his rights or even in self-defense.
Hope that gets me out of the heretic pool. =0)
Seriously, my Savior is all strength and perfection and I love him dearly.
sally
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Nicole, I think you’ve raised a good question. It’s possible for a character to begin as an anti-hero, but one of the problems, in my opinion, of a lot of CBA fiction is that the characters, the protagonists, that is, are not engaging. Often this is because these are stories of redemption, so the character must begin in a place of need and move to redemption.
How to make a needy sinner engaging? That’s the question then, I think.
For a King David type story, it would have to start at a place where he is likable, then show his fall, the consequences, and his repentance. I would look at that as the third type of story, the one where he goes through a struggle and ultimately relinquishes his power or will and experiences the power of God to bring him to repentance.
Of course, you might be right that not all Christian-hero stories will fall into one of these four. But I find it helpful to think about what elements make a Christian character a hero and how that looks different from the hero of the secular novel.
Becky
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Merrie, your character that is at times a type of Adam and at times a type of Christ is very interesting. One reason I love fantasy is because of what the writer can accomplish with types and symbols. The story can be a rip-roaring story, but on another level is this spiritual drama being played out.
I believe a true hero is one that battles within himself, but does the true and good thing regardless of price. This is why he is a hero.. Well said, Rachel! “The true and good thing” will cost the hero. And what about those he is with? Is it heroic for a “turn the other cheek” character to stand back and let those he is with die at the hands of evil men? Oooohh, what a question from one raised in a pacifist church.
Becky
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Sally, I doubt if anyone actually had you tagged as a heretic (though I have several prayer lines I need to contact to take your name off the request list. LOL 😀 ).
I think Nicole made a good point. As I understand what she said, even in taking on the body of a man, Jesus was still capable of using His power as God to create immortality. In other word, just because He was human did not mean He had to die. If He could heal others, surely He could have fought off the ravages of disease and decay in His own body.
I think that was one part of Satan’s tempting Him to throw Himself off the temple and let the angels preserve His life. It was a “you don’t have to die” suggestion.
Jesus, however, knew His Father required His death as a means of salvation and it was His act of giving that which no one could take that made Him so strong.
Becky
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Sally, I agree with you on all points, particularly the last. And also that writers feel a strong need to clarify! Thus I post again. This is a wonderful discussion, but I would only counsel against a quick resolution to the debate on the word “weak.” While we know He has and always had all power, 1 Corinthians 13:4 still tells us that “He was crucified in weakness.” Not moral weakness, surely. But certainly physical. And just as certainly His chosen, willful actions.
The world always misunderstands the strength behind those actions because the very definition of the word is anathema. I think we who seek to follow in those footsteps must struggle with this word when we prefer the safer “meek,” just as we must face up to the biblical word “humiliated” when we prefer the safer “humble.” The power of God enters the picture when we lay down our own… all of it, and all claim to it. That is a hard concept to grasp. And an even harder thing to do.
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One of the problems I had with the protagonist from the Legends of the Guardian-King was the divine intervention deus ex machina. I know what Karen was trying to portray, but nowhere in Scripture do I read where we are passive conduits for God’s power. No prophet performed miracles by simply standing there and allowing God to “do his thing.” They were active, knowledgeable participants. They acknowledged the power was God’s (except for Moses when he summoned the water from the rock, and he received punishment for that–what a great plot device), and called upon Him for help, but they had an active, cognizant role. They didn’t black out as divine power gripped them, to have everything hunky-dorey when they awoke.
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The power of God enters the picture when we lay down our own… all of it, and all claim to it. That is a hard concept to grasp. And an even harder thing to do.
My contention is, it’s an even harder thing to show in fiction. Bryan, that you are, that Karen Hancock did, is to be commended. It requires the kind of deeper thinking that I think much CBA fiction of old lacked.
Kameron, I think you’ve made an excellent point, too, though I disagree that Karen’s ending was a deus ex machina. I think that can only happen if there hasn’t been proper foreshadowing or the creation of a reasonable expectation of divine intervention. I thought she had those factors in place.
But the greater issue for this discussion is the idea that prophets performed miracles, not by laying down, but by getting up and walking into rivers and furnaces and lions’ dens.
Still, there’s Paul’s declaration in II Corinthians … the one about power being perfected in weakness, and its companion statement, when I am weak, then I am strong. If this is the theme an author wants to write to, it becomes considerably more difficult to show. How do you show someone yielding to the control of the Holy Spirit?
Becky
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I guess that depends on what your definition of control is. I believe the Bible defines it as relinquishing your will to follow God’s, to change your life to match the expectations of God. I find no evidence of supernatural possession by the Holy Spirit, a forceful subjugation of one’s own will or ability to act. Nor do I see God intervening in place of the knowledge, e.g., I don’t know how to do X, so God takes care of it for me in a way I couldn’t have if I had had the knowledge to do X.
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Sorry for the double post. I had some more thoughts, but had to run to a meeting.
I disagree that Karen’s ending was a deus ex machina. I think that can only happen if there hasn’t been proper foreshadowing or the creation of a reasonable expectation of divine intervention. I thought she had those factors in place.
The first time it felt like deus ex. After she set the expectation, it just made the character weak.
As an example of what I was talking about in my previous post, the protagonist of the Guardian-King (can’t remember name) had access to the power of the Light knew how to use it in a rudimentary fashion. We are shown and told that there are others who have grown in their ability to use it. Abramm (I remembered his name!) continually seems behind the curve, yet, when it’s crunch time, Eidon takes over and does things with the Light, through Abramm, that the man couldn’t do himself. To follow what I believe the Bible teaches, Abramm would not have been able to accomplish things with the Light until he brought himself under subjection to Eidon’s will, but he still would have been the active instrument.
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I guess that depends on what your definition of control is. I believe the Bible defines it as relinquishing your will to follow God’s, to change your life to match the expectations of God. I find no evidence of supernatural possession by the Holy Spirit, a forceful subjugation of one’s own will or ability to act. Nor do I see God intervening in place of the knowledge, e.g., I don’t know how to do X, so God takes care of it for me in a way I couldn’t have if I had had the knowledge to do X.
Kameron, I completely agree. My definition of yielding to the control of the Holy Spirit is yielding to His presence in my life first, then agreeing to His purposes and plans for me. That the Scripture makes it clear that I can quench the spirit and grieve the Spirit, it makes it abundantly clear that He does not act apart from my yielding to Him.
But again the question, how does that show itself in fiction?
Becky
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Oh, and about the deus ex machina in Legends of the Guardian-King, I don’t know if you read only book 4 or if you read the whole series. I think much of the set up for the conclusion of book 4 was built in the other three books. Thus, I didn’t have any sense that this was a surprise rescue at all.
I DID have some questions about Abramm being a passive hero. But that connects with yesterday’s post. 😉
Becky
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“it makes it abundantly clear that He does not act apart from my yielding to Him.”
Bah, I say. heh heh
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I did read all 4 books.
How do I show yielding to the Spirit in fiction, literally, allegorically, or symbolically? First, you have to reveal the Standard/Truth. Then you have to show how the protagonist struggles/fails to succeed when he/she acts outside of the Truth. Finally, you show them succeeding as they align themselves with the Truth. (The success may not be what they originally considered as the goal.) As the protagonist sees the fruits of their labor, they also come to the realization that it was the adherence to the Truth that allowed them to achieve what they hadn’t been able to before.
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