for although You have hidden these things from the wise and the learned
You have revealed them to the childlike."
- Matthew 11:25
The childlike simplicity that increases one's capacity for true wonder plays a role in many great stories over the years. One great example that comes to mind is the C.S. Lewis fantasy, The Chronicles of Narnia. This is quite a different story from the more recent Netflix sensation, Stranger Things - in fact, it was very tempting to attempt to make this post a comparison and contrast piece between the Pevensie children and the kids from Stranger Things. The style of the show is more readily and commonly compared to the adventures told from the perspectives of children in the 80's and 90's, especially by Steven Spielberg. However, another example, which is still closer to the genre than Narnia and probably has not been drawn into comparison as frequently, can be found in the early works of M. Night Shyamalan, such as Signs, Unbreakable and The Sixth Sense.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of the role of children in these early Shyamalan works is how the noble simplicity of the children is contrasted, not only with the darkest parts of our broken world, but with the brokenness of the adults, who have been weathered by years of navigating the darkness of the world. In fact, the role of the children, particularly in the danger of their encounter with the darkness in our world, sometimes becomes the occasion for a sort of reawakening of the goodness and strength in the adults, which had grown dormant. In fact, it is striking how both Unbreakable (more on this series here) and Signs seem like essentially stories of the restoration of broken fatherhood, with the help of the father's child or children. The restoration of his fatherhood enables an awakening or reawakening of a deeper strength that enables him to be of service to more than just his family. It enables him to become a hero and a servant to others.
Perhaps the most striking quote from Signs |
It is hard to miss this dynamic between the children and the adults in Stranger Things. Most prominently, we have the examples of Joyce Byers and Chief Hopper. Both are dealing with a lot of brokenness in their lives, both tied to the (feared or actual) loss of a child. Joyce exhibits many strange behaviors and shows signs of possibly suffering from some mental illness, as most of the other characters presume of her. However, it becomes clear that her unrelenting motherly devotion to her son and commitment to finding him at all costs - no matter how crazy she appears in the process - has actually made possible a hope within her that enables her to uncover some of the "stranger things" into which her son has become caught up. Her fearless devotion to the task of finding her son - which most within the town believe to be hopeless - gradually prompts Chief Hopper to take up the task in earnest.
When we meet Chief Hopper, he is a rather degenerate character. We soon learn that at least some of his issues are tied to the loss of his daughter. While there is still much about that story that is left unlearned by the audience, we do gradually see how his commitment to finding Will and unraveling whatever web the boy has been caught up into renews his concern for his past life and his family. There is an intriguing sort of redemptive story arc with Chief Hopper, who does become a sort of unlikely hero, as the mystery unravels. Yet, it is still the case that the primary heroes of the story seem to be the children.
The devotion of Mike, Dustin and Lucas to the task of finding their friend continually drives them onward, aided by the childlike worldview that they possess, despite having already encountered much of this world's brokenness (and only finding increasingly more, as the plot thickens). Yet, to stay on topic, it is worth noting their relationships with their parents. The only parents we really get to know are those of the Wheelers (Mike & Nancy) and the Byers's (Will & Jonathon). The Wheeler family is depicted as the typical suburban "happy" "nuclear family." Dad is distant and aloof, not even noticing how inaccessible he is to his children. The mother tries to be supportive and understanding, but fails to listen and understand her children, thus failing to really guard them from the brokenness they get swept into. Still, beside some moments when she really misses the mark, in general it seems she is genuinely doing the best she can. The Byers family is portrayed as what appears, on the surface, to be the exact opposite. While we have to look a little deeper to see the brokenness in the Wheeler household, in the Byers home, we meet a mother who is widely considered to be "crazy" (as discussed above), who has already been left by the rather deadbeat dad.
This is not to literally endorse violence, but simply a firm rejection of any boy who doesn't treat you with due respect. |
Lastly, we cannot forget Eleven. It is with her that we see the most extreme example of a child who lacks the presence of a proper relationship to any parents or other adults. Even her "powers" are the result of the abuse of her "papa." Further, we see how her fear of her abusers leads to a reluctance to trust adults. It is from the other children that she is able to learn about trust and friendship. Yet, her caution may actually be an appropriate strategy in this extreme situation, due to her awareness of the far reach and deception of those who represent the "bad place" from which she comes. Fear is sometimes an appropriate reaction, meant to help us make prudent situations in dangerous or difficult situations (for more on a healthy understanding of "negative" emotions like fear, go here). Yet, we see how the contrast between her fear and the wonder of the other children, who are not only amazed by her "powers" but will not give up their commitment to finding their friend, becomes an obstacle in their quest.
Fear and wonder come into contact in the midst of an adventure like this, and we see them both especially alive in children. Fear offers caution to wonder, while wonder reawakens what fear may seek to destroy, when it is given too much power. This reawakening results in hope. Hope helps us move forward, even when fear attempts to freeze us in place.
Keeping our eyes on Christ helps us not allow fear to take over. |
By the time we reach adulthood, we often have been weathered by the brokenness of the world. Sometimes wonder at what the Lord can and does do in our lives remains alive in our hearts. Other times, fear takes over. Other times, we have not allowed fear to offer us the caution we need. Thus, we become wounded, not only as the result of our own decisions, but also by the way that others have hurt us. Think of how Nancy rejects the caution and concern of her friend, Barb, leading her also to shut out her mother. Still, we have examples like Jonathan, whose own neglect by his parents leaves him vulnerable to developing a pattern of thinking he has to take care of everything himself.
Meanwhile, in reality, when the Lord calls us to take up our vocation, the question remains of whether we will allow fear to take over or allow hope to embolden us. In one way or another, we will be called to live, not merely for ourselves, but for God and others. We see from countless examples, even secular stories like Stranger Things, which allow us a glimpse of the dynamic between children and adults, how our own actions can influence the future of others, especially the children we impact. Yet, we also see how they can influence us. We need to allow their wonder to help keep hope alive in our hearts. As we comfort and encourage them amidst their fears, we can allow even their fears to offer us the caution we need to make responsible decisions. We are not our own. May we embrace the life we are called to live for God and others with courage and hope.
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