Kryptonite by Jason Stout

One of my fondest memories from when I was a kid was riding the bus to my Grandma's house after school. My mom worked at a furniture factory one town over and I wasn't old enough yet to stay on my own. My Grandma worked part-time as a nurse's assistant and the best arrangement for both of us was for her to take care of me after school.

We had a lot of fun together during those years, but one of the things I enjoyed most was simply sitting in her living room watching TV with her while she crocheted. She tried to teach me to crochet too, but let's just say my fingers weren't up to it. Instead, I would sit on the floor and eat a snack and watch the after-school kids' shows until my mom got home from work.

This was in the late 70s, but for some reason the TV stations near our town played lots of good, old shows. I remember watching re-runs of the original Mickey Mouse Club with Annette Funicello and repeats of Popeye cartoons from the 50s. I watched plenty of 60s-era Batman with Adam West too.

My favorite, though, was watching the black and white Superman show starring George Reeve. I absolutely loved that show. The way Superman would stand tall and proud while the bullets bounced off his chest - or the way he would crush the bad guy's pistol in his bare hands. I even liked the "golly gee" Jimmy Olson. In fact, I think that show is what started me on my way to collecting comic books.

And make no mistake, comic books were an important part of my early childhood. Later on, the comic book industry started calling their works "graphic novels," but they were always comic books to me. I made sure to collect plenty of Superman and I knew his "story" inside and out. About how he had been jettisoned off his dying planet Krypton by his father Jor-el at the last minute. And how the Earth's yellow sun - so different than Krypton's red sun - gave little Kal-el his super powers: super strength, x-ray vision, heat vision, super cool breath, near invincibility, and, my favorite, the power of flight.

But Superman had a weakness - a flaw that could be fatal. It was called kryptonite. In the comics there were several varieties and colors and they all had a different effect on Superman. In the TV show and later in the movies, though, there was only one kind - green kryptonite. This was the kryptonite that robbed Superman of his powers when he was near it - and if he was around it long enough could, theoretically of course, kill him.

What struck me was the fact that kryptonite was made from shards of Superman's home planet of Krypton. For some reason, it was the same planet that had helped create him that was later imbued with the power to kill him.

Sometimes I wonder if we can say the same thing about us. God created us in His image and we know that He is perfect. Yet at the same time we know we are not perfect. So what is the source of that imperfection? What is it that God has created in us that allows us to fall so far from the perfection that we were created to be like and strive for?

I think chiefly our problem comes from one of our most prized attributes - our freedom. It is our freedom that allows us to choose to give into our temptation. It is our freedom that allows us to walk away from God when all He is doing is waiting for us to seek Him out. Perhaps one of God's most perfect gifts was to allow us the privilege of choosing Him and yet we so often don't. It is the thing that makes us strong in so many ways - our freewill, our freedom of choice - that so often drags us down.

So why did God give us this "gift" that carries with it our very own kryptonite? Think about this. How good does it feel to help someone out when they need it? I don't know about you, but even if nobody ever finds out, it just warms me up to do something nice for someone else. It makes me feel good about myself. And it helps me to remember to praise God for my blessings. Now, imagine someone walks up to you and, at gunpoint, takes your money. The person then uses that money to help someone out - in the exact same way you would have helped.

The result is the same; the person is helped. But it sure wouldn't feel the same from your perspective, would it? In the first instance, you were choosing to help because you knew it was the right thing to do and ultimately it made you feel good to do it. In the second instance, you had no choice - your resources were used to help the person, but you didn't help him yourself. Would you feel good about the "help" you provided when you had no choice in the matter?

And would it affect the person who had been helped? If you had generously given your aid without compulsion or recognition, would he be more grateful than if he knew you had been forced to help? Maybe. Maybe not. I think I am more grateful for those who help me of their own free will just because they think it's the right thing to do and want to be caring.

Isn't the same thing true with God? He could "force" us to obey his rules and could have created us without the free will to do as we please. But then wouldn't our relationship with Him, our commitment to Him, be different? We wouldn't have chosen that relationship; it would have been commanded, dictated. Could we appreciate our relationship with Him in the same way if we had no option to walk away from it? Could God revel in our praise and worship if they were mandated?

It's like being forced to tell Great-Aunt Millie that you love her and to give her a big hug, when you don't really know her or care for her. It might be the polite thing to do, but there's no feeling behind it. And if there's no feeling behind it, Great-Aunt Millie knows it and you know it and you both know you're just going through the motions. I don't think God wants us going through the motions. I don't think He wants us to praise Him because we have to. I think He wants us to praise Him and love Him and give Him a big hug because we want to.

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