Avatar

You’ve seen the premise before: Greedy white men invade someone else’s land to steal their resources. But then some of the white people actually get to know the natives and realize that their ways are superior. Still, the main group of “settlers” gets annoyed when the natives don’t want them to devastate their land. So the white men pull out their guns.

Though arguably the space-travel version of Pocahontas, Avatar (2010) is still a majestic film. And the point of Avatar does not lie in the same imperialist story we’ve told over and over—a story which is uncomfortably true and needs to be repeated.

Yes, those who hold material power think they can go in and conquer the “less powerful.”

And yes, those with power usually think that the less powerful need them to come fix all their problems. I agree with church-planter/multi-cultural worldview expert Soong-Chan Rah’s assessment of the messiah complex in Avatar. (Though I also wonder how the audience could have emotionally identified with the main characters if the hero of the film was not human? If we had seen the story through the eyes of a Na’vi character whose perception and experience of the world was so different from our own, how could we have related that story to our own experiences?)

But still, there is so much more to Avatar, and to ignore that is to ignore great art.

When done well, the fantasy genre can explore certain aspects of human nature and truth at a deeper level than more “realistic” stories can. When we watch fantasy we choose to “suspend our disbelief” to a higher degree than we normally can. And thus, a good fantasy film can compellingly take an aspect of truth and explore it through to its logical conclusions.

Avatar is an exquisite exploration of the truth in beauty.

The native people of planet Pandora—the Na’vi—would not pass Christian doctrinal tests. They do not believe in Jesus or a singular, personal God. They don’t even seem to live in a world governed by the paradigm that dominates the story of the Christian God and humanity: creation, fall, redemption.

But the Na’vi do live in a world so shockingly beautiful that they conclude that only apparent explanation is that the beauty stems from truth. Pandora explodes with unexpected, breathtaking beauty—in the plants, the animals, the turning from day to night, the dangerous dance of the natural world. Even if you scoff at modern “tree huggers,” the connectedness of the people and nature on Pandora is inescapably wonderful.

The Na’vi greeting “I see you” goes infinitely further than a simple greeting. It says “I see into you. Into your heart. The good and the bad. And you are my brother or sister.” Even if you find this level of vulnerability initially unnerving, the potential of such intimacy resonates with our inner longings. If we were to let our guards down, might we find that this deep level of connectedness and acceptance is what we all crave?

Avatar offers a picture of a new reality—one where people have not severed their ties with God, with each other and their surroundings. And this reality resounds with viewers because it is a story that will one day be true. Even now, the Church can move toward a life of utterly deep and beautiful harmony in community. And one day, when Christ returns and fully renews the heavens and the earth, that harmony will spread and deepen and be fully real.

So watch the movie. Enter into the splendor of Pandora. And if you become caught up in the wonder of the world you see, remind yourself that the Kingdom of God is even more beautiful than this. The New Jerusalem will be infinitely more real, more wonderful than James Cameron’s depiction of a Utopia.

Avatar is still playing in Denver. Catch it before it’s gone at a theater near you.