Leaps of Faith: Falling Upward
(Spoiler Warning: This post contains plot details from both Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and its sequel Across the Spider-Verse)
If you were to ask me the question of what is my favorite movie, I would not be able to give you a straight answer. There are so many movies that I love and it all really depends on my mood. It could be anything from WALL-E, one of the Star Wars films, Chariots of Fire, The Truman Show, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, or so many others. But my favorite movie scene? That one is easy:
Miles Morales has felt a sense of calling. Or rather calling in the form of genetically altered arachnid has bit him. Yet like most of us, Miles is unsure of whether or not he is worthy of that calling. Using his newfound powers, he sticks to the side of a skyscraper high above New York City. In his head, both he and we hear the counsel of his family and mentors. The last voice he hears belongs to Peter B. Parker who tells Miles that he won’t know when he is ready; it’s a leap of faith.
With that, Miles jumps. The glass where his fingers had stuck to the skyscraper shatter off the building. He begins to fall to the city below and in a gorgeously iconic shot forever associated with this film, the camera flips upside down and it looks like Miles is ascending. As the music swells, the kid from Brooklyn lets his web shooters fly and he begins to swing, flip, and leap through the streets below. The doubts and the questions fly off of him and even though he is wearing a mask, joy radiates off of him. Miles is born again and he has a new name: Spider-Man.
Those two minutes and change is rich in imagery to inspire and challenge. We do need leaps of faith to become who we truly are. The way up is often down and letting go of whatever is holding us back can renew us. It aligns with so much of what is taught in religious traditions and I cannot help but see echoes of Jesus teaching about losing one’s life and becoming a servant to others in this kid’s descending ascent. Regardless of your belief background, Miles’ leap of faith is a powerfully compact origin story and it’s one of the many reasons why Into the Spider-Verse is one of the best superhero movies ever if not just straight up one of the best movies of the 21st Century.
Yet that’s just the beginning of the story. Into the Spider-Verse kind of acknowledges this as it concludes with Miles telling us that for two whole days, he has been the one and only Spider-Man. Yes, he has made his leap of faith and his bravery has helped save the city. Now comes the hard part. Origin stories are easy (although I cannot state enough how ridiculous it is that they pulled off a coherent and moving origin story in a movie that included the multiverse and multiple Spider-People including a wisecracking anthropomorphic pig). That initial fall, as hard as it is, is usually just the first of many and they don’t necessarily get any easier.
Across the Spider-Verse starts with that acknowledgement. Miles has been on the job for a year and he’s making it work, but juggling superheroing, school, and keeping it all secret from his parent is a bit of a strain. That’s standard superhero sequel stuff. Yet where it gets interesting (that’s not true, it’s interesting from the outset; it is a delightful movie like its predecessor) is when Miles runs up against the tension between what he believes is right and the code that all the Spider-People in the entire Spider-Verse expect him to live by.
Without context, this will sound wild but in the movie there are what are called Canon Events. And these are moments that the Spider Society believe have to happen to every single Spider-Person (or Thing) and if they do not occur that universe will face catastrophic destruction. When Miles saves someone on an alternate earth who was “supposed” to die, he runs afoul of this arachnid association. They tell him about the Canon Events, but Miles is deeply troubled by this idea that they are not supposed to do all they can to help whomever they can.
Miles finds himself in conflict with the agreed upon status quo, including his close friends. In the first movie, all Miles wanted was to belong and be part of this community. He wants to be Spider-Man. He wants to be a hero like Gwen, Peter, and the others. And now, far from home he finds himself at odds with all of them. He has to fight off Spider-Men, Spider-Women, Spider-Cats, Spider-Cars, Spider-Rex, just hundreds of Spider-Entities. All of the Spider Society is chasing after him as they climb this futuristic train that is rocketing into the sky. The leader, Miguel O’Hara tells Miles that he is an anomaly. He doesn’t belong like the others. In an echo of his leap of faith, Miles escapes and dives off the train to plunge to the earth below.
In Richard Rohr’s Falling Upward, he writes, “Perhaps it has never struck you how consistently the great religious teachers and founders leave home, go on pilgrimage to far-off places, do a major turnabout, choose downward mobility, and how often it is their parents, the established religion at the time, spiritual authorities, and often even civil authorities who fight against them.”
Miles Morales is not a religious teacher, but I read that quote the day before I saw the movie and I could not get it out of my head as I thought about Across the Spider-Verse. He left home, went to a far-off place, and when faced with a chance to be a part of the club, he chose the other way, and everyone fought against him.
Though they are difficult, we can usually stomach the leaps of faith that give us a new name, give us a home, and help us be born again. Yet our story doesn’t end there. Throughout his teachings, Jesus makes it very clear that following him involves taking up crosses, loving those society often ignores, and often entering into conflict with the powers that be even those in our literal and metaphorical homes.
Christian history is littered with people who found themselves at odds with the church: the desert mothers and fathers, countless reformers, those that fought for the abolition of slavery, for the inclusion of women in the pastorate, against racism, against greed, against abuse, for the inclusion of our LGBTQ+ siblings, and many more.
All of those leaps of faith were controversial. People found themselves on the outs with the church, sometimes literally. In fact, some of these leaps are still controversial and that’s what makes them so difficult. You can be convicted that gay individuals should be a full member of the church—to serve, lead, receive communion, and be married—and there are other individuals who are just as convicted otherwise. Both read from the same Bible and profess to follow the same Jesus. So how do you know what to do? You don’t. It’s a leap of faith.
I am not saying that every time you go against the flow of church or society that you are following Jesus. We screw up sometimes and we get it wrong. However, I am convicted that the way of Jesus often looks out for the people that we neglect and stands up to the powers that be. To do that mean that we might fall out of favor with others. For example, my theology is not in line with the Southern Baptist church of my childhood. Some of the little leaps that got me to that place hurt, but at the end of the day I am glad that I made them. That is not to say that I think I am somehow better the people in that tradition. There are Southern Baptists who are better, more gracious, and more compassionate people than I.
I guess what I hope is that we would have grace for one another as we try to follow Jesus and take our leaps of faith because they are not easy. Nor should they be. Jesus was crystal clear about that. It is hard to speak out or to go against the flow and most people do it out of conviction not a whim. And yes, we do get it wrong sometimes. But history is littered with “wrong” people who ultimately got it right. So let us listen to one another, have grace for one another, and, if we believe that is where we are being led, have the courage to fall upward.