Before driving over to the December meeting of The Upper Room PTSD support group, I was sitting in my living room, watching Star Wars: The Last Jedi with my 12-year-old son, in preparation for this month’s debut of the final film in the saga. He’s slightly older than I was when Return of the Jedi came out in 1983, but equally enthusiastic about the franchise, if not more so!
As I watched the film, (SPOILERS AHEAD!) I was struck by some of the dialogue surrounding the theme of hope, particularly as we approach Christmas in this Advent season. In the movie, the rebellion against the evil First Order has reached a moment of truth, and they desperately are seeking allies to come and rescue them. But no one is coming. General Leia laments that “the spark of hope in the galaxy has gone out.”
They needed a Savior.
Then, when all appears lost, Luke Skywalker arrives to face the evil Kylo Ren. But this epic showdown isn’t about the greatness of Luke Skywalker. He was giving cover for the rebellion to escape, so they can “be the spark of hope that will burn the First Order down.” Indeed, earlier in the movie, the logo of the rebel alliance gives hope to mistreated children working stables in some version of an interstellar Monte Carlo. Going even further back, the very first Star Wars movie in 1977 is known as Episode IV: A New Hope.
So what does a sci-fi saga have to do with Advent, Christmas or our journey of healing?
Well, for me, I couldn’t help but draw parallels between our need for hope to be able to light our darkest days and the way Star Wars uses hope uses as a theme. In the film, ordinary people band together to fight evil and oppression. But Luke Skywalker—the myth the legend— had run away, exiling himself after his colossal failure with young Ben Solo and his Jedi temple. He had fallen victim to his own hubris and hid from even his closest friends and family. He is a flawed hero, but a hero the galaxy needed nonetheless.
Christ, however, is our perfect hero: Our Savior and our God.
It is the Light of Christ that can light our way on our path of healing. It is Christ Himself, who died and rose from the dead, who gives us HOPE in the midst of our struggles. And in this season of Advent, as we prepare to welcome the Christ Child into the world, are we asking ourselves, “How can I welcome the Baby Jesus into my life?”
Another Star Wars parallel can be made with the new Disney+ series, “The Mandalorian.” Baby Yoda (or “The Child” as he’s officially known) is a viral sensation. People are so enamored with this phenomenon that I even saw one friend post on FaceBook that they were more excited about Baby Yoda this Christmas than the Baby Jesus!
Now, she’s probably only half kidding, but let’s think about how much love and affection is being poured out towards this fictional—although incredibly stinkin’ cute—character. Do you think we could manage even a fraction of that love and affection for the Christ Child? Is the hope that the Birth of Jesus brought to the world alive in your family’s life? And if it isn’t, ask yourself , “Why?” What steps can we take make that a priority?
In the Upper Room, we often say, “If you can’t see the light, be the Light.” By that, we mean that God uses us to help bring about His Kingdom. In Star Wars, ordinary people came together to rebel against the forces of darkness. Luke was a whiny moisture farmer from the Outer Rim. Han Solo was a smuggler—a “scoundrel.” In the new movies, Rey is an orphan scavenger. Finn is a reformed Storm Trooper.
Ordinary, even flawed, people doing extraordinary things.
Jesus didn’t come with trumpets blaring or a giant red carpet. He came humbly, in a stable, to a working class family who lived in Nazareth. It’s in this humility that I find hope. It’s okay to be broken. It’s okay to be flawed. It’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to feel unworthy. Because our worthiness comes being children of God. Our worthiness comes from being members of the Body of Christ through our Baptism. And it is because of the Incarnation that we have hope for eternal life. So, no matter where our journey of healing takes us, we can keep our eyes fixed on Christ, knowing that he is lighting our way.
It’s an old Catholic Star Wars joke that when they say, “May the Force be with you,” we would respond, “and also with you” (and I guess now it should be, “and with your Spirit1”). But this Christmas season, my wish for all of us is that the Force in our lives can be the Spirit of Christ, and the hope that the Incarnation brings to the world.