On Heroes

After over a year of almost boyish anticipation, I saw the new Captain America movie last weekend. Instead of writing a review, however, I’d rather mention how this movie (along with others like it) is indicative of a cultural trend that is at the same time encouraging and disheartening: our obsession with heroes.

In many ways, at least for me, this love of heroes is a bastion of hope – it doesn’t take too much imagination to realize that the society that ceases to recognize heroism will soon find itself in its death throes. Thank God the United States isn’t there…yet. The movie industry is indicative of this trend. In the midst of all the horror flicks and idiotic comedies about men who failed to launch, we still have movies consistently trumpeting some form of heroism.

Many of the biggest box office successes of the past decade or so have been driven by some strain of the heroic impulse. We’ve had superheroes (the Batman movies, the Avengers), fantasy heroes (Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings), and of course, numbers of wartime dramas. And cinema is only one area of culture in which this trend is evident. There are many more examples, none the least of which is the consistent high regard with which our society holds our military veterans.

Suffice it to say, we respond to heroism, we like the way it makes us feel, we even honor it, but the downside of this trend is that very few people actually want – and are willing to pay the price – to emulate it. Spectating from afar is much easier.

But the actual practice of heroism should not be limited to the soldier, the public defender, or, heaven forbid, the actor on the silver screen. Heroic virtue – the consistent placement of others’ lives and well being above our own, especially to the point of our own detriment – is not bound solely to the battlefield dominated by flying bullets. It can, and should be, the guiding force in “normal” life. But that’s the hard part.

It’s hard to live sacrificially when the bullets aren’t flying, when there is no clear occasion to which to rise. It’s much easier to retreat back to good intentions and the mere appreciation of heroic qualities. It’s much easier to “play out” the heroic impulse in a video game or on a movie screen than to actually give up our own pleasures and comfort zones.

After all, who really wants to spend their lives in the real world drowning in blood, sweat, and tears, especially when (unlike the movies) chances are pretty good you’ll never be thanked? Heroism inherently demands a level of discipline and sacrifice that our human natures are simply not comfortable with making.

But this is why I loved Captain America. Steve Rogers didn’t try every enlistment trick in the book so he could be personally recognized. He didn’t join the Army to experience the “glories” of war or because it was what everyone else was doing. He said himself, “I don't want to kill anybody. [But] I don't like bullies; I don't care where they're from.” He knew that the world was dying, and he resolved to make the sacrifices needed to protect others from the “bullies” simply because it was the right thing to do…

I’m afraid that we don’t allow our lives to be daily altered by the simple fact that the world is still dying, both physically and spiritually. I know I certainly don’t – staying in my own comfort zone and looking after #1 is all too easy. But my life is not my own. I wasn't sent here to serve myself. I wasn't meant to take the easy road. I pray God for the grace to start living like it.