Growing up in the 70s, Saturday mornings meant one thing—cartoons. I was a huge Bugs Bunny fan from way back and had seen every episode of Scooby Doo. But I liked the newer stuff too: Hong Kong Phooey, Grape Ape, Fat Albert, and the Harlem Globetrotter’s Popcorn Machine. But my favorite show was Super Friends, a kid-friendly version of the League of Justice.

I liked it not only because it featured superheroes like Superman, Wonder Woman, Aqua-man, Batman and Robin but because it had them all fighting together as a team. And it wasn’t because I was a big cheerleader for “teamwork”—which I guess I was—but because I thought that with all of them joining forces, nobody could beat them. The idea of an undefeatable force helped make sense of, if not a chaotic world, then at least a threatening one.

I know a lot of people think Hollywood’s obsession with superheroes is nuts, but I’ve always been fascinated by them. I find the idea of a power so invincible that no force can stand against it compelling.

It makes sense when you stop to think about it, doesn’t it?

When the world feels like it’s spinning out of control, the thought that someone or something might show up to put things back in order is attractive.

Magical thinking, wish fulfillment, and other coping mechanisms allow people to exert a little control over a complicated and, often, dangerous world.

But we shouldn’t be too quick to judge. Humans have always discounted what they see as other people’s “superstitions.”

“Spending money on a lottery ticket is reasonable. But rain dances and voodoo dolls? That’s where we draw the line.”

But these coping mechanisms are crucial release valves. We need whatever emotional help we can get in facing a scary and unpredictable universe.

Which is why superheroes make so much sense, right?

It should come as no surprise then that Superman made his debut in a DC comic book in April 1938. Think about the world at that time. In March of that year, just before Superman’s first appeared, Nazi Germany annexed Austria, absorbing it as German territory. Tensions with European neighbor, Czechoslovakia, intensified, raising worldwide concerns about the threat of war in Europe (at a time when the world was still traumatized by the first grisly European War, World War I).

In 1938, Germany also introduced policies, putting flesh on the bones of Nazi antisemitism. They began deporting Jews to Poland. Then, in October, they canceled all Jewish passports. On November 9th of that year, roving bands of brown-shirted goons and the public emboldened by them incited Kristallnacht, “the night of broken glass,” busting the windows of Jewish businesses and beating anyone they suspected of being Jewish. Three days later, on November 12th, all Jewish businesses were closed by government decree.

“This sounds like a job for Superman!”

So, we shouldn’t be surprised that Superman appeared on the scene. Batman debuted in 1939, followed by Captain Marvel in 1940, and Captain America in 1941. And thus was launched what is widely called “the golden age of comic books,” which lasted until 1950—through the tumult of WWII, with its shared loss of life in war, the discovery of Nazi death camps, the advent of the atomic bomb, and the aftermath of a Europe turned to rubble.

When things are bleakest, modern Americans aren’t above a little magical thinking ourselves, are we?

Right out of seminary, I had a great job as a minister at one of the “downtown” churches in small-town Appalachia. Things seemed to be going really well. The people were great. They took care of us and made us part of their families.

But in the summer of that year, the Disciples General Assembly met in St. Louis. The main item on the agenda was the election of a new General Minister and President.

The candidate on the ballot replaced the candidate who’d gone down in flames two years before, losing a tight (some thought crooked) election in Tulsa.

The defeated candidate was my professor and friend, Dr. Michael Kinnamon. His candidacy unfolded while I was at Lexington Theological Seminary.

Dr. Kinnamon remains to this day, one of my all-time favorite professors … heck, my all-time favorite human beings. He was unfailingly kind and thoughtful to me … and he was a Cubs fan, so you know … he was one of God’s favorite people too.