Thanos, worldviews and how to save the world

Thanos, the massive purple Titan god of the Avengers’ series, is a strangely compelling and sympathetic villain, particularly in the most recent Avengers: Infinity War movie.  I believe that what makes him compelling is the way in which he adheres to his beliefs—with personal integrity, dogged determination and self-sacrifice.  A casual movie-goer would struggle with why he or she found Thanos to be so compelling. It would be the rare person so honest to espouse a belief system in any way aligned with Thanos’, but I would argue that many modern intellectuals and therefore those they influence—in college class rooms, via op ed pieces and TedTalks—hold Thanos’ belief system at least to some extent.  It is the combination of personal integrity and the resonance with a rarely articulated but widely held world-view that made Thanos simultaneously relate-able and horrible to the average viewer.  Thanos is a terrifying example of what happens when a horrific world view is adhered to with perfect integrity.

What is a worldview and what was Thanos’ worldview?  According to writer and philosopher NancyPearcey, a worldview is comprised of 3 beliefs:  how the world came into being; what is wrong with the world and how the world became so broken; and what can be done to fix the world and what that means for me personally.  This simple formula is an outstanding way of breaking down the basic philosophy of nearly any person—he or she may not even be aware that they hold such a belief system; or they may actually be trying to hold together a discordant world view, leading to confusion in their own thinking, problem solving and moral behaviors.  That kind of discord we don’t find admirable and often is a source of frustration—how can someone say they believe something and then act in opposition?

As a Christian, my worldview can be summarized this way:  I believe that God made the world and He made it very good; by rejecting God’s authority, Adam and Eve sinned, their sin broke the perfection of the whole of God’s creation which is why the world is full of disease, ugliness, and suffering; but God so loved the world that He sent His son Jesus Christ to die on the cross and redeem the world, saving all who believe in Jesus and promising to ultimately bring about a new and perfect creation.  What that means for me is to live in faith and discipleship to the two main commands God gave—be fruitful and multiply and subdue the earth; and make disciples of all mankind, bringing people to saving faith in Christ.  

Thanos’ worldview could be summarized this way:  the world exists—probably as a result of some deistic force, because these are after all Marvel movies, largely based on mythology and populated with godlings; but it is broken and suffering because there are simply too many people and not enough resources; the solution is to dispassionately, objectively and arbitrarily destroy half of all sentient life so that the survivors can live with more peace, harmony and abundance.  Stated that way, it’s a worldview that almost sounds noble; probably to some people actually sounds noble.  The belief that there are too many people and too few resources—or at least that resources are poorly distributed—is common to many, many worldviews.  

As previously stated, what makes Thanos so compelling is his adherence to his beliefs: his integrity, the consistency between his actions and his beliefs; his willingness to sacrifice everything, even his beloved child, to achieve what he believes is morally right; his persistence and dedication despite great obstacles and opposition.  All of these characteristics would make Thanos a good-guy, were his desired end-state not so appalling.  And for most people, I imagine that his desired end-state is only appalling because it is arbitrary; if somehow it could just be “the other guy” who gets selected for termination, Thanos’ plan might win a popular vote at least in some cities….

What do we do with the Thanos’ in our lives?  How do we deal with worldviews that are horrific and ungodly, but held by well-meaning people who are committed and behave with consistency between beliefs and actions?

If I could talk to Thanos—visit him in his yurt out there in the quiet, peaceful, green steppes of wherever that final scene of victorious evil retirement occurs—I would start with the reality that we both agree on and which is apparent to all: the world is a broken place.  Only the most pie-in-the sky philosophers would deny that the world is broken.  But the solution to the brokenness of the world is not one which humanity—or Titan-ty, as the case may be—has to enact.  We don’t have to fix the world.  God did, is doing, and will do the fixing of His creation. The God who created the universe sent His Son to redeem the world—the self-sacrifice was all His; there is no reason for us—for Thanos—to sacrifice our own dearest loves, our own souls, to attempt to achieve what God has already done.  The world may not look fixed, but it is both here in time and in eternity.  This we have been promised, and we have been given the faith to believe until we can see it with our own eyes.

The sacrifice of Gomora to attain the soul-stone revealed the depths of Thanos’ dedication to his beliefs, his personal integrity.  The sacrifice of his beloved daughter was not done to achieve world domination, to create a kingdom for himself to rule; Thanos sacrificed Gomora to bring about the saving of the universe, at least according to his worldview.   It was done at great personal cost, causing him anguish and grief.  This movie-reality is heart-wrenching when seen in this way.  Had Thanos simply been a villain hell-bent on the domination of the universe, we could hate him with impunity and feel unadulterated loathing for his selfish murder of his adoptive daughter.  But he wasn’t, and therefore he becomes a sympathetic character.

How many of us have a confused and inconsistent worldview that involves some degree of personal sacrifice to bring about the fixing of our broken world?  If we could only stop creating so much garbage, then the world would be safe for future generations; if we could only stop abusing and eating animals, then the world would be a better place for all living creatures; if only we could reallocate all of the resources so that poverty no longer existed; if only everyone had access to a good education, then society would be full of people making intelligent, correct choices and the world would be a better place; if only we could train people to be more empathetic then the world would be a kinder place; if only we could restrict all access to weapons the world would be a safer place; if only we could enforce population control so that global resources aren’t so taxed and the world would be an abundant place for future generations.  If only, if only, if only, if only.

But the “if only’s” are not in our control.  The salvation of the universe, the un-breaking of the broken world, is already done.  It may not look like it—we are living in “now and not yet” times—but the salvation bought by the blood of Christ is real, and it is sufficient to redeem the whole creation.  We live in faith not by sight.  But if sacrificing our own souls for the salvation of the world is not what we should be doing—because that job has already been done—then what should we be doing?  Should we be striving for a heaven on earth, for world peace and justice for all?  Not by human power nor through the kingdoms of this world, but in the name of Jesus and by the power of the Holy Spirit, we work to love each other and make disciples—to populate that new heaven and new earth with redeemed children of God.  

How do we live in this broken world?  Is there anything wrong with seeking justice, fairness, and end to poverty, ignorance, violence and disease?  No—these are noble, Godly goals which reflect what was present in the un-fallen creation and will be present again.  We aren’t going to save this world by anything we do, but we have been called to be loyal, self-sacrificing, compassionate, diligent disciples of Christ.  The sacrifices of mother, daughter, son, spouse, family we might be called to make are to honor that call to discipleship, not to save the world.  We should not confuse the two. The call to be a disciple of Jesus Christ is a call to take up a cross of self-sacrifice, a call to live with personal integrity and to desire the good of others.  It is those aspects of Christian life which may make Thanos appealing—his desire to sacrifice and his personal integrity, his desire to save humanity from poverty and suffering.  But we must not confuse the sacrifices we are called to make as disciples who make disciples of others, with the sacrifice which Christ made to save the world from sin and to draw all of humanity to Himself in a new creation.  

Avengers: Infinity War ends with a weird dystopian rapture and with Thanos apparently living out the peaceful rest of the righteous victorious.  But we are given the impression that his dreams are haunted by the sacrifice required to achieve his desired end-state.  I’m curious what the next movie will bring, because if it is well done it will retain some consistency in the worldview that it gave Thanos, and it will require some other redemption—some re-redemption, some reversal of time and fortune—to make things right again.  Dr Strange, after his prescient searching of all possible futures, says that there was only 1 path to victory; apparently his own decisions were made to create that future, despite the devastating loss with which this movie ended.  So is there as yet—to borrow a Narnian phrase—some deeper magic?  A deeper magic which will reverse the actions of Thanos and save the world in a better way, a way that is more just and rightous?  If there is—and I suspect there will be—it will be response to the very deep and abiding human hope for good to triumph over evil.  We know what good looks like, and despite Thanos’ noble characteristics, we know that he is not good; good does not demand the sacrifice of half of humanity.  But Marvel movies—like many movies and many books—enjoy portraying the intentional, self-sacrifice of one for the good of many.  How many Marvel movies culminate with the noble self-sacrifice of a hero?  I strongly suspect that the undoing of Thanos’ great evil will revolve around the sacrifice of one to redeem many.  Because that’s really the only way redemption of the world is done—and has been done, in real life here in time and in eternity, in Christ Jesus. 

Image originally found here, modified with Picsart.