I am obsessed with both Bible stories and superhero movies. I guess that makes me a nerd several times over; but whatever. When I was growing up, I wanted to become a rabbi; and I came out as a sci-fi and fantasy nerd when I was a pimply, awkward teenager, long before I went to my first Star Trek convention, so that tracks. In my mind, Bible stories and superhero stories have a lot in common. And they tell us a lot about what it means to be a proud queer person.
Anyone with even a rudimentary familiarity with the Bible shouldn’t be too surprised by this pairing. They both offer epic narratives of larger-than-life figures who operate within a supernatural, magical universe where just about anything is possible. That’s reason enough to get excited about them; but I also think it’s because many of these stories feature seemingly unremarkable characters with humble beginnings who then go on to fulfill heroic destinies. As a closeted, bullied, effeminate gay boy, I dreamed of breaking out of my awkward shell one day and becoming someone impressive and important, someone powerful.
A couple of Sundays ago, I was preaching in my parish on the biblical story of David and Goliath. I’ve always adored this story, because from the very get-go, everyone underestimates David. When the current king of Israel, Saul, falls out of favor with God, the Almighty sends his prophet Samuel in search of a replacement. Samuel arrives at the home of Jesse, the Bethlehemite, who has a whole brood of strapping sons to choose from. Samuel calls them one by one only to be told by God that each of them isn’t the one God is looking for to be Israel’s next king. When Samuel reaches the end of the lineup of Jesse’s available sons, he’s told that Jesse’s youngest, David, is out in the pasture tending his father’s sheep. So, Jesse sends for David, who the Bible tells us “was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome” (1 Sam.16:12). As a kid, I always imagined David to be the runt of the litter — not the captain of the football team or a mighty warrior, just a skinny twink like me. But God says, “yup, that’s the one,” and so Samuel anoints him on the spot in front of his father and brothers, the least likely candidate of all. From that moment on, the Bible attests that the spirit of God is strong with David and he thrives.
The story of David’s ascendancy occurs against the background of the Israelites’ war with the neighboring Philistines, each of whom are vying for dominance in the region. Enter the Philistines’ champion, Goliath, who challenges the Israelites to designate one of their own warriors to engage in single combat with him to settle the conflict. “All of the men of Israel, when they saw the man,” the Bible observes, “fled from him and were much afraid” (1 Sam. 17:24). This includes David’s three older brothers who are serving in Saul’s army at the front and whom David is supplying with daily provisions from home while he also tends the family’s sheep. No one wants to the take on the Philistine, though Goliath taunts and goads the Israelites day after day. Finally, David offers to take up the challenge; but the king, incredulous, says, “you are not able to go against the Philistine to fight with him; for you are but a youth, and he has been a man of war from his youth” (1 Sam. 17:33). Imposing and cocky, Goliath mocks David: “and when the Philistine looked, and saw David, he disdained him; for he was but a youth, ruddy and comely in appearance” (1 Sam. 17:42). So young, so cute, no threat at all.
This is where it gets interesting for me. David, of course, isn’t stupid enough to try to engage this hulking linebacker in hand-to-hand combat. I can relate — I hated those phys ed classes where I was forced to pretend to play football with straight bros that were 6’2”, weighed 210 lbs, and tormented fags for fun. Like me, that twink David wouldn’t stand a chance. Instead, he takes a stone, places it in his slingshot, and plugs it right into the giant’s forehead and strikes him dead.
David draws his courage from his belief in God’s power and God’s favor of the Israelites — at least that’s what he says. But I believe something actually far more compelling is happening. David shows unwavering confidence in his own abilities, in his own inner power. Sure, his abilities come from God; but he also is clever and resourceful enough to know that brute force isn’t the way he’s going to win against a much bigger and stronger adversary. His gambit pays off, and he proves to all the naysayers — King Saul, his older brothers, the Israelite and Philistine armies — that he’s a force to be reckoned with. He has hidden gifts and powers within him that are going to make him a formidable king. Woe to the one who dares to underestimate David again.
David’s story shares many common elements with one of my favorite Marvel movies, Captain Marvel. Just like the great King David, Carol Danvers (a.k.a. Captain Marvel) is a superhero with incredible abilities, but rather pedestrian, human origins. Throughout her pre-superhero existence, she had been mocked for not being strong enough. During her time as an air force cadet, for instance, she is repeatedly subjected to toxic masculinity, misogyny, and bullying of various kinds simply for being a woman.
Later in life, when Carol accidentally acquires superpowers and is unwittingly abducted by an alien race, the Kree, and becomes a warrior in their army, she is accepted by her comrades-in-arms, but is regularly chided for not keeping her extraordinary powers in check. She is such a threat that the Kree’s AI leaders feed her the lie that her powers are theirs to take away if she doesn’t learn to control herself. Carol ultimately realizes that the Kree have been lying to her and using technology to diminish her powers, because they fear what she will do if she’s no long under their control. She then breaks their hold over her and explores her full powers and full potential. She learns to believe in her own inner power and wield it. In this nerd’s opinion, it is one of the most exhilarating moments of girl power in film.
Both the David and Captain Marvel stories embody how much queer people have been underestimated, how much we have had to conceal our gifts because of others’ ignorance and fear, how much we have been discouraged from claiming our inner power. Many of us live in contexts of privilege that allow us to be out and proud, not just during Pride Month, but throughout the year; and yet there are so many ways that even we still suppress the fullness of who we are to fit in and not make waves. Many cishet people would prefer that LGBTQ+ folx remain tethered to their humble and unassuming origin stories, instead of breaking out of their shells and becoming the prophetic kings and superheroes God has intended us to be. To be fully authentic and fully powerful, confident in our identities and abilities, takes courage and courts danger. We always have to decided which risks we’re willing to run. But, in the final analysis, to be less than God has equipped us to be is to squander God’s gifts, to remain the humble, overlooked shepherd or the bullied, defeated air force cadet. If we are to be the proud queer people we say we are, then we have to claim our inner power. Whether others underestimate us is outside of our control; but what we cannot do is underestimate ourselves.
Abundant blessings,
Fr. Ethan +