“The Universe is so big, it has no center. We are the center.”
– Ms. Marvel
Who would ever have thought that the characters you’ve read about as a boy or girl in comic books and seen on the silver screen as a man or woman on a date were in some way spiritual teachers? Imagine if you could actually “study” with one of them to gain their powers. In this column, we will come to see these super-powered heroes as colorful Zen masters or yogis.
The popularity of Yoga and Zen in the 21st century has made inroads into virtually every area of American culture. It’s reached into urban centers like New York City, Gotham City and Metropolis, and into remote areas of the globe, like Paradise Island, where Zen Master Wonder Woman was trained. It also reached the Bangalla Jungle, where the Master Phantom spreads the Dharma.
Does it sound peculiar or even irreverent to think of these extraordinary saviors of humanity – which is what they have been in so many comic book issues and films? I encourage you to let your imagination run wild a little, and I think you will see them in the light I’m proposing.
The following superheroes – Zen masters and yoga teachers all – carry on the Buddha’s teachings in two distinct traditions: D.C. Zen and Marvel Zen. (I know this is pretty playful, but if these caped crusaders aren’t archetypes for spiritual leaders, then what are they?) The former teaches the perfection of an initiate, reaching its apotheosis in Master Superman of Metropolis, an urban monk whose dharma (reason for being) is truth, justice and the American way. An allied tradition has taken root in Gotham under Master Batman, who perfected himself for decades to devote his mission to crime fighting and bringing peace to the city.
Marvel, opting for a somewhat more irreverent breed of Zen than DC, doesn’t bother itself with perfection. Zen teacher Wolverine, training under Master Charles Xavier in the suburbs of New York City, has no intention of keeping his claws in against anyone who’d oppress mutants, putting out his cigar, or dampening his lust for the fairer sex. Speaking of the hot superhero, there’s also Johnny Storm (initiate name: The Human Torch), a fiery Manhattan bachelor of the Fantastic Four, who loves the ladies as much as he does incinerating bad guys.
Superhero Zen masters follow a parallel tradition to that of America’s Founding Fathers, brave revolutionaries who risked their lives for their burgeoning country. To most of the world, George Washington commanded the colonial forces and became the new nation’s first president; Ben Franklin was an inventor, diplomat and Renaissance man; and Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence and became our third president. All of these men, however, also had a more private side – initiates all of the mystical Freemasons, who carried on an ancient spiritual tradition in underground secret meetings. Their dual lives parallel that of more modern superheroes. They wore powdered wigs instead of cowls, three-piece suits instead of spandex costumes; and knee-length breeches instead of capes.
Likewise, Clark Kent is a mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper; Bruce Wayne a billionaire philanthropist; and Diana Prince, a member of the U.S. intelligence community. But each has a private side too, and when society is invaded by terrorists or criminals, they change identities and clothes at the drop of a cowl, to emerge as Zen Masters of the Dharma – Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman, respectively – to fight crime and restore justice and peace in their worlds.
Admittedly, I have played a little fast and loose in this column, but not really. Surely, Wolverine isn’t a Zen master, but there have been Zen masters even more cavalier than him. The Human Torch is a playboy, but when push comes to shove and New York City is threatened, he always rises to the occasion and uses his super-heat to burn any criminal plot. The comic book creators of these colorful heroes were certainly writing for kids, but maybe – just maybe – they were also writing for the inner child in all of us.
