N. Paul Williams is the author of several Christian horror books, including Ripper Grimm (aff link). He is a brilliant fiction author and is going where many are unwilling to go to reach the lost for Jesus.It began in the midst of another long story when God told me to research slasher film structure as well as the great gender war. I did so and found a number of correlations where the one might have spawned the other. I also got a good look at the imagery, which seemed to point back to that story God has written on our hearts about the knight, the dragon, the princess, and the tower.
And then, I told my Bible study brother about what I learned.
And then, we started reading Revelation.
And then, I nearly fell off the couch as I realized they were all connected, if not intertwined.
Here’s the short version. Slasher films follow a specific formula, and deviance from that formula often results in the audience rejecting the movie. This tells me that the formula speaks to a specific truth in the human heart, of which we may only be subconsciously aware. The question, of course, is, “What’s the truth?” Those of you who walk with Jesus, hold me accountable, because this is what I found. And as usual, I can’t decide if I’ve finally lost it, or if I’m on to something.
The slasher film begins with Forbidden Folklore—though it may be revealed in the middle of the picture. This is that story about the boy who drowned while the camp councilors were making out instead of paying attention to the kids. This is that story that locals only mention in whispers, and then follow up with, “But put it out of your mind and don’t think about it. After all, it’s just a story.”
From this Forbidden Folklore, with a bit of supernatural assistance, the Killer emerges to seek revenge. Some theorize that he represents pure evil, but I disagree. He represents justice and judgement. The Victim Pool represents the evil, as they often embody the original wrong. This is why so many salacious teens die at Jason’s hand. They, or at least others like them, were responsible for him drowning in the first place. And by association, they are responsible for the death of his mother who tried to avenge her son. They need to pay, and he’s come to see that they do.
Yet, from out of the Victim Pool, one girl (and it’s always a girl) is set apart from the others. She’s the Survivor Girl, the one who abstains from the impulsive, sensual-based actions of others. If she isn’t a virgin, which is rare, she is virtuous. And though the male audience begins the movie cheering for the killer, their loyalties will begin to shift to her near the end of the film.
In the climax, when the cast is reduced to her and the guy with the knife, she gets a hold of a phallic weapon and defeats the killer. It’s never a little hand gun, or pairing knife, or dinky little object. It’s always something big, and long, and punishing. Feminists theorize that this is the timid little girl becoming empowered by taking the killer’s manhood and using it against him. But if the weapon represents her empowerment, then why does she put it down when she’s done? She leaves changed, but the Phallic Assistance she received isn’t hers to carry with her. This tells me it’s borrowed, probably from the audience who offers themselves to the princess so save her from the dragon—participating in the sacred fairy tale.
And then, we opened Revelation, and God spoke.
The human race in general doesn’t like to talk about the day we turned against God. We joke about it, mock it, treat it with all the disdain of something we fear, and therefore refuse to take seriously. After all, it’s just a story. But from the Forbidden Folklore of Eden, there looms the divine appointment none of us can avoid: Judgment Day (The Killer). Those of us who live in perpetuation of that wrong, those who continue to reject God’s sovereignty in their lives, will fall into the abyss (Victim Pool). And like in the movies, “Broad is the road and wide the door that leads to destruction, and many will enter it.”
But for those of us who chose the straight and narrow, those who become the Survivor Girl known as the Bride of Christ, we’ll live. Not by our own merit or virtuous works, because when all is said and done we’re not much different than the slaughter fodder from whence we came. No, we survive because Christ intervened on our behalf. We survive because of his Phallic Assistance, because of his covering on our lives. It won’t be a pleasant day; I can’t recall a single Survivor Girl who wasn’t bruised or bleeding by the end of the movie. But by His grace, by His intervention, we’ll survive.
These were the thoughts in my head as I re-watched the remake of Friday the 13th. I remembered not being overly fond of the movie. I suppose I’d blocked out the fact that it felt like a porno a little too often. But I felt this urge to watch it again, and being instructed to research the genre, I did so.
What God told me as I watched the film left me cowering in the corners of my mind.
He told me that just as Jason hadn’t forgiven the wrongs in his past, I made a game of killing surrogate offenders to resolve my own. And of course, issues improperly laid to rest will not stay buried. Further more, Jesus made it very clear that that we are forgiven the way we forgive. Jason showed me what not forgiving looks like, how it destroys the soul of a person until all that remains is a monster. Ultimately, Jason Voorhees will be his own final victim. If I can’t properly deal with and face my own Crystal Lake, then I will be mine.
God pointed out the living members of the Victim Pool as they gave themselves over to their dress-rehearsal deaths, and I realized they’d been training for this role their entire lives. Yet, when I tolerate those little pet sins—those easy to excuse because they are common—am I not preparing myself for the same part? Jason killed because he didn’t deal properly with the Forbidden Folklore of his past. The victims died because they didn’t deal with theirs either. Suddenly, the formula also worked on the personal level. Daddy issues lead a girl in the movie to a lifestyle of sleeping around; sex being a kind of death. In a way, she killed off her soul a piece at a time until even the survivor girl within her died. The guy licking the porn magazine? He’d been dying little intimacy deaths long before Jason found him and passed judgment.
Seeing myself in every part of that movie, I realized that for far too long, I’ve empathized with the Killer. Or more specifically, the killer’s refusal to forgive. For far too long, I’ve denied being in the Victim Pool. After all, a lesser predator is a greater predator’s prey. I recognized, in the characters of that film, the parts of my soul not yet surrendered to Christ; those parts to which the undeath of the curse still holds legal claim.
Nothing not dead can be raised to life, and I knew that losing these precious bits would cost blood. I thought of the verse that talked about gouging out eyes and cutting off hands. I thought of the verse that told me to work out my salvation with fear and trembling. Every fiber of my being finally understood what that meant.
Something in my mind fought back with a lecture about legalism. But dealing with my issues isn’t an attempt to earn God’s favor. This was about ridding myself of the last remnants of my former life as a zombie. This was denying myself, taking up my cross daily, and following Jesus. Paul talked about soldiers not entangling themselves in civilian life, but seeking to please their commanding officer. He talked about athletes throwing off everything that hinders.
This was a sinner turned saint who faced God’s glory and realized how far he had yet to go. Isaiah didn’t fair much better. Neither did Paul. None of the prophets or apostles could truly stand before the Lord.
This was about killing those intimate parts of me that refused to die at the foot of the cross. I knew all the reasons those parts had to go, but pain is not something we are inclined to embrace.
“I told you that following me on this road would leave scars.”
I nodded at the still, small voice in the back of my mind and gave the most submissive answer I could imagine. “I think I’ve had the scars for a while now, so I don’t see what I have to lose.”
“No, Nathan,” Jesus said with more compassion in his voice than I’ve heard in a very long time. It felt as though a tear graced his cheek as he said, “You’ve had the wounds for a while now. You don’t get the scars until they heal.”
I never dreamed I’d get the gospel according to Jason Voorhees, let alone such profound insights into the Bible from the horror genre. But if we’re wise enough to know our God doesn’t fit in a box, then why are we foolish enough to believe we can follow him in one?
Here’s to chasing a Lion.
Here’s to the scars it leaves.
Anything else is a little too scary for me.
Picture By: Arnþór Snær
You got it right on. There is a reason our hearts are moved by such stories, it's because were in one ourselfs! Great job my man. Major props.
ReplyDeleteWow. I never thought about horror movies as a parallel to sin and living without Christ. Interesting insight!
ReplyDeleteYes. I really loved this post. Nathan absolutely nailed it.
ReplyDelete[...] *Guest Post by N. Paul Williams (Check out other posts by Nathan here) [...]
ReplyDeleteYes, that's absolutely right.
ReplyDelete