Bendemption, A Month Away

Part One: Star Wars in Context

A few weeks ago I had occasion to write a brief twitter thread about Psalm 51, which formed the core of what will be Part Three of this series. This is King David’s Miserere, which he is said to have poured out when he was confronted by the prophet Nathan about his affair with Bathsheba and subsequent murder of Uriah. The thread reflected on what redemption might and might not mean for David, as expressed in this classic expression of repentance. I tweeted out the main gist of my idea, but then someone interjected, “there was no redemption for Bathsheba and Uriah!”

I was a bit baffled by this interjection, which to me seemed to be a non sequitur.  My seminary Old Testament prof had stressed that the Biblical interpreter’s main job is to “dance with the text,” to take seriously what Scripture presents us even as we present our own experience to it, and this fit well with my mindset to stay focused on the flow of a thought being explored or to let myself get caught up in the sweep of a compelling story. My twitter interlocutor instead brought forward the need to question the text, to expose those who have been kept silent by it. I spent the rest of the conversation, not so much backtracking but still covering my bases in communicating that I understand the importance of that question too. Not backtracking, but sidetracking off of my main point.

This type of counter-textual analysis isn’t new to me: I’m not surprised by it but after a few courses in undergrad and a bunch more in seminary, I understand its importance but I admit I’m tired of it being the only aspect of someone’s approach to the Sacred Text of my community. But it was the non sequitur itself that concerned me, that my conversation couldn’t continue but had to be “cancelled” by the counter-conversation. My concern is a broader one: I worry that we’re at a cultural moment in which we are incapable of having both the critical conversation and the “moving-forward” constructive one at the same time, much less finding ways to integrate the two.

I’m being a little too vague. Which conversations in particular? Ultimately that of tradition and innovation, concerns of the past vs. concerns of the present, such as oil and environment, “ok, boomer” and “lazy millennial,” Jordan Peterson and the folks that cancelled him. Now before I go on I feel the need to (ahem) cover my bases and clarify that my politics are decidedly not centrist. I will side with innovation, present concerns, Greta Thunberg and the unique struggles of Millennials in a Boomer-dominated world. I remain unconvinced that Peterson and especially his followers are the right people or in the right place to make their claims: they may be attempting a constructive conversation about masculinity, but they haven’t sufficiently grasped the import of the critical conversation, the effect of toxicity on women and other minorities. In Part 2 I will be clear that the critical conversation is essential for the constructive conversation to have sufficient depth. Indeed, the most welcome part of this cultural moment has got to be #MeToo, the critical conversation that required some voices to take a “time-out”—to be “cancelled” (or at least “postponed”) in order for women to truthfully express their pain and experiences without fear of reprisal, and for them to be believed.

However, sometimes “cancel culture” isn’t itself sufficiently critical. The occasion for my reflection on Psalm 51 was my initial response to Stephen Kent’s article for The Federalist on what Bendemption might say in the context of “cancel culture.” Cancel culture may have important elements but it can often be the performative woke residue that merely reacts to the gains of #MeToo, fiscally-motivated virtue signalling without transformation, without the deeper, integrated conversation and conversion that I believe #MeToo truly called for. Covering their bases for the sake of covering their bases. Responding to save face, rather than as a way to live better in society and be better people.

A high-profile example of economic virtue signalling was Disney and Marvel’s removal of James Gunn from the Guardians 3 film after old inappropriate tweets had surfaced. Disney and Marvel went ahead with firing Gunn despite opposition from Zoe Saldana, Pom Klementieff and Karen Gillan, all powerful women who had worked closely with Gunn, two of them of colour, none of them the sort to tolerate a man guilty of the behaviour that Gunn was accused of. If these women felt that Gunn was a safe and constructive person to work with, then they should be believed. Add to this the fact that Gunn very publicly disowned his previous comments as part of his foolish past, and that the tweets themselves were dug up by those seeking to discredit Gunn precisely because of the prominence given to women and people of colour in Guardians 1 and 2. As the link above makes plain, Disney and Marvel ultimately relented and brought Gunn back to the fold. However the whole kerfuffle has delayed the film, and therefore complicated the exquisite narrative balance of the MCU, while Gunn finishes the Suicide Squad sequel for Disney-Marvel’s competitor, Warner Brothers-DC.

Bendemption can add something new to the conversation, if The Rise of Skywalker can make the most of the opportunity. It can involve both conversations at once, and help us integrate the two. In Part Two, I’ll look at what Scripture might say about the turn away from Kylo Ren.