The Dark Knight: Be All That Bruce Wayne Can Be

I read an interesting discussion the other day between two sports personalities, ESPN's Mike & Mike In The Morning. One of the two Mikes, Golic I think it was, argued that Batman wasn't really a superhero because he didn't have any special powers, just a utility belt. If that's really all you think of Batman, then of course you probably aren't that keyed up about the Batman movie, The Dark Knight. You probably won't think it's all that clever that some Bat-theologians talk about the Dark Knight of the Soul. You may be somewhat attracted to the film because of its negative publicity, in light of the death of Heath Ledger, or you may be one of the Christian Bale bandwagon jumpers. But if you're hung up on that utility belt, you aren't one of the people who grew up thinking that Batman was the one who made superheroes human.

I grew up a Superman fan. At least until I was about ten, and then I switched to being a Batman fan. Superman was too perfect, too bland, too without fault (at least in the sections of Superman mythology that I was allowed to read in those days). Batman, on the other hand, was cool, dark, mysterious, and a little tortured. He was the smartest of the Justice League, maybe with the exception of the Martian Manhunter; but when I was ten, MM didn't get much love. So, Batman was the human one, the self-made superhero, unlike the flakier, accident-created Flash, the super-everything Superman (who I still privately liked), the Amazonian Wonder Woman, or any of the rotating heroes that joined them in the cartoons or comics.

Batman was only slightly tainted by the Adam West version that I saw and blew off with easy disdain. He was darkly dressed, wildly intelligent, and his alter ego shed light on the lack of sense of those around him. Bruce Wayne or Batman didn't just battle villains. Instead, he fought the demons in his head, the self doubt and sadness, the loss of his parents, and his need for vengeance. He was always battling his own desire for revenge with the city's need for justice (and maybe even a little mercy at times). Batman solved mysteries, rescued the misfortunate, and kicked some serious butt.

Then Michael Keaton made Batman super cool, with a little help from Jack Nicholson, who might be the best Joker ever (but I'll give Ledger a shot). Keaton was disarming with his wit and serious sense of humor. He was definitely torn between the world he longed for and the world that he had discovered in the cave and inside of himself. Yet he found the strength to overcome the evil around him and those who sought to take the good from him. Unfortunately, Batman was no match for George Clooney or the countless other villains who spoofed what Keaton and Nicholson had created, and I turned away from my "faith" in this ManBat to the likes of Wolverine and others in search of cool.

Somewhere along the way, whether it was Jeph Loeb or someone else, the work done in graphic novels began to draw me back under the Batman spell. When it finally came around for the first Christian Bale Batman movie, I was ready for someone to restore my live-action faith in the Batman, and of course, it was. Not only was Batman tortured and smart, physically unstoppable, and dedicated, but his villains were up to the task without stealing the limelight from Bale in the way that Nicholson had from Keaton.

Now I'm ready to believe again that Batman can be cool, and that there's a place for him in our 2008 world. Maybe we can believe in something human, yet driven, that can battle our darkest fears and right wrongs and instill justice. Maybe Superman is what Jesus might look like in 2008 (minus the impregnation of Mary Magdalene aka Lois Lane!); but Batman is the best we could be, if we chose to rise above it all.

Rome 1960: The Modern Olympics

There’s something about the Olympic Games that arouses passions inside people from around the world. Perhaps it’s the stirring music that beckons athletes to compete at the highest level as they compete for fame, notoriety, and a gold medal. Perhaps it’s the amazing stories of the athletes themselves, some who have overcome immense obstacles just for the privilege of representing their country. Perhaps it’s the moments where a star is created or an image is etched into the collective consciousness of billions. Perhaps it’s simply the torch lighting. Whatever the reason, it makes for compelling television viewing (and is even better attended in person).

As we near the start of the 2008 Summer Games in Beijing, China, we’ve become used to certain facets of the modern Olympic movement. The product placements by competing athletes. The wall-to-wall coverage of every event (especially on the Internet). The blurring of what constitutes an Olympian (amateur versus professional). And (sadly) the phrase ‘positive drug test.’ It’s hard to imagine that at one time, none of these issues and situations existed at the Olympics.

That is, until the Rome Olympics of 1960.

Something was different about this particular gathering of the world’s athletes. The world, after two World Wars, had qualitatively changed. Germany was united and the Berlin Wall wasn’t constructed. China was divided. Athletes unlike any seen before graced the stage—like Rafer Johnson and Cassius Clay, who 36 years later (and one name change to Muhammad Ali) lit the torch in Atlanta.

Pulitzer-Prize winning author David Maraniss has taken a look at these games and has penned a work that will prove to be an enlightening read. The title: Rome 1960: The Olympics That Changed The World.

Often, these events serve to challenge and inspire the world to be the best it can be. And so does the Bible—although it doesn’t mention the Olympics explicitly, it does offer numerous opportunities to encourage and inspire us to levels of greatness unattainable on our own.