“Hocus Pocus”, “Abracadabra”, “Shazam”, and “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo!” Even a cursory scan of the top-grossing movies of recent years would reveal that we have a fascination with all things magical, mysterious and supernatural. Why is this? Some would attribute this inclination to an insidious plot of our ancient foe, but I think not. I think there is a deep-seated hunger in the human heart for something not of this world. I’m convinced the recent obsession with superhero movies is a veiled admission that we know we need a savior, and he won’t be found among the common lot of men. And just as these films are an acknowledgment of need, their productions are tokens of common grace, keeping a supernatural answer ever before the groping masses. There is divine food for this hunger.
And the hunger has been growing in direct proportion to our increasingly materialistic mind-set. The skeptics of the Enlightenment sought to banish the Creator from His world, but accomplished no such thing. Far from removing Him, they simply taught us the art of faithless interpretation. Unraveling the mechanics of phenomena they claimed to have extricated the need for deity. For the last couple of centuries we have been taught there is nothing beyond what can be measured, tested and classified, that we live as random bits of matter in a heartless, hostile habitation that just happens to exist, with no further meaning. The pagan of long ago, strolling through groves he deemed divine, was closer to the truth than the skeptic who finds nothing miraculous in his world. They erred in terminating their faith in a multitude of spirits within the elements, the skeptic in finding no gods at all!
But the longing continues. We wrap them in fairytales and epic storylines of wizards and heroes, battling dark forces of unearthly power, reminding ourselves all the while that these aren’t “real”, they’re just “make-believe.” Oh, but we wish they were! Not the dark powers, of course – we already know they’re real! We just wish there was a greater power to fight them, a true Avenger to save us all. But we resist this inclination. I believe it’s this self-inflicted tension that has caused the explosive growth of these superhuman storylines. It’s the guilty pleasure of the materialist, who must eat his supernatural morsels in the dark spaces of the cinema, before returning to his hopelessly unenchanted existence.
But even as we want our superheroes, and want them moral, with goodness and self-sacrificing tendency for our benefit, still we never think these champions worthy of our submission. Indeed, it’s most often the villain of our imaginations who demands our service. In this, the fleshly origin of our saviors is revealed. We want the supernatural, not the Divine. We want the power, but not the Person, whose salvation is a sovereign one. “Just use your mighty power to get us back the life we want!” How telling that Scripture connects rebellion with the sin of witchcraft. (1 Sam. 15:23)
I have read that the words “Hocus Pocus” date back to the 17th century, coming from a distortion of the words the indigenous people heard from the lips of Catholic missionaries as they performed the ceremony of the Eucharist – “Hoc est enim corpus muem.” They were told these words transformed the elements from mere bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. It was all very magical to the gazing pagans. In reality, no change occurred to the baked grain and juice of the crushed fruit. The miracle had happened long before.
A Superman had appeared, but He didn’t come from Krypton. A God had descended in human form, but not from the austere world of Isengard. And our Hero wasn’t merely willing to die for us, He came for that express purpose, to “give His life a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45) He taught us no magic spells, but offered up bloody prayers….and was heard on our behalf. Our hope is human, but a thoroughly divine One – Jesus, the God-Man. And this is the miracle we celebrate in the Supper of our Lord. When we feel the bread between our fingers, we are to remember that “great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifested in the flesh….” (1 Tim. 3:16), and with the wine, remember too, His death until He comes again.
Let all the other heroes point to this One, all the other “magic” remind you that they are but distortions of the truth, the Supernatural has walked among us. But let them also be points of contact between you and a world sinking beneath the weight of its own rebellion. Might Hollywood not be serving us a marvelous marker against its will? We have the food for which they hunger. Not in elements transformed by the cleric’s words, but in a God who took on human flesh. A physical Savior whose body and blood became the food of eternal life. “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.” (John 6:53-54)
