Knights in Shining Armor & Damsels in Distress

When I was growing up, I had a big weakness for fairytales. And I think part of my shameful attraction to them might be this: I secretly wish that I had some special significance or talent and will be picked out from the crowd as the one for success. That I'll be Cinderella scrubbing the floors and then 'discovered', and then I'll be crowned Queen of the land and everyone back home who was mean or overlooked me will beat their heads saying, "Gosh, was I a fool to be so mean to Jennifer." Or something of that sort. Or that I would be Beauty, who would see past the rough exterior of the Beast and redeem his world through my simple belief, my own unique ability to see. In effect, I wanted to be both the damsel in distress, saved from her squalor and the wretched people around her because of my specialness, and I wanted to be the knight in shining armor who fate rewards for being nice to the ants. And listens to genies. And things of that sort.

Most movies, if you think about it, fall into the categories of knights and damsels, or in less fairytale language, heroes and victims. The Titanic was moving because they were all victims, which you knew from the start: victims of a doomed ship, victims of a doomed cross-class love. The Dark Knight - appealing because he tries to be so heroic despite the seemingly insurmountable odds of evil.

In some ways, it seems necessary for there to be exaggerated heroes, victims, and foes. It's necessary for the protagonist to make himself a victim in order to be the hero, in order to have some big odds and enemies to fight. Heroes are heroic in their victimhood. The members of the Fellowship of the Ring are victims, having inherited the foolish decisions of their fathers, victims of their own latent evil and greed which disintegrates the fellowship. Their battle is a huge one: the seemingly small forces of good against the overwhelming omniscient forces of evil. People who are supposed to know things say that a story is a conflict and a resolution. What sort of story would it be if our proud hero's main struggle in life was with a stubbed toe? Would it be worth listening to? (Interestingly, there is a new wave of movies where the battles are little everyday stupid ones - movies like Juno, and About Schmidt - which is sometimes why I have trouble watching them, because the problems seem so inconsequential.)

So why is this important? Because what we think makes a good story affects how we narrate our own stories. It is tempting to paint oneself as a victim: a victim of events and forces beyond yourself, a victim of your parents and family, a victim of poor schools or friends. A victim for not having had the knight in shining armor leap the chasm of your loneliness and speak into your life, and tell you that you are loved, to snap out of it, to reach higher.

There's a fascinating study I learned about in Human Behavioral Biology. Some rats were exposed repeatedly to electric shocks, and eventually, with enough time, they exhibited symptoms of depression - curling up in their cage with their blood having chemicals released during high stress. Other rats had a lever in their cage that released dopamine into their brains, which stimulated pleasure and blunted the pain. When they were exposed to electric shocks, the rats learned to push repeatedly on the lever, and they didn't show signs of depression. Even when the lever was disconnected from the dopamine, and didn't do a thing, when the electric shocks started coming, the rats would race to the lever and madly pedal on it. And, strangely enough, even though the lever wasn't actually doing a thing, the rats still didn't show signs of stress or depression. The take home lesson, is that when the rats believed they had some control over a situation, they wouldn't get depressed or stressed out.

There are additional studies which show that individuals with depression tend to have an attitude of helplessness. Total victimhood is tempting, but not ultimately healthy or helpful. Victimhood is easy because it takes away responsibility, our responsibility to return good for evil, to act above and beyond the cards we are dealt in life. And that is the miracle of the gospel, really. That God wasn't a victim of us messing everything up, that He didn't just return evil for evil with which man treated Him, but He rose above the occasion and covered everything with love, and from death and injustice of Christ's death, He created redemption and salvation and sanctification. The beauty of Christianity is that we're not locked in an endless cycle of evil and hatred and suffering. We can be responsible for our actions and responses. As David Powlison wrote in an article, on the day of judgment, God will not ask, "Shat happened to you?" but rather "What did you do?"

As Powlison notes, there's certainly a real danger in veering too far and claiming total human responsibility. Which definitely is not true. Because the Bible notes how in a very real way, we are victims of the world, the flesh, and the devil. "Man is both responsible, and a sufferer. We are guilty and victims." To deny suffering is to have an unrealistic view of the world. Here's a question to tackle: So what is our responsibility? When do I know that I need to change my circumstances? Or if I just need to tough it out and get a better attitude?