Spirituality has always been a part of human storytelling. In today’s comic books, whether it’s faith in a hero or submission to fate, spirituality of one kind or another plays an integral part in plot and character.

At Comic-Con this year, some popular comic-book storytellers sat down with a precocious audience to discuss where spirituality and religion fit into their works and into American storytelling as a whole, and how our modern tales might be doing a soulful injustice.

The panel, brought together by the Christian Comic Arts Society, included an Agnostic (Elan Rodger Trinidad), two Christians (Doug Tennapel and Caleb Monroe), and a witch (Holly Golightly). Remarkably, there were no fights or bitter accusations flung across the table, but rather a unified sense of pride and communion as storytellers focus on spirituality in their work, whether it’s of a religious or metaphysical nature.

It was universally agreed that Christianity in America’s popular culture is "simplified and moronic." In most comic book stories it is tacked on, taken advantage of, cut and pasted, and slapped down with good intention and bad effect. The panelists universally complained about how spirituality is often turned into a catch phrase more than a real device for understanding character, story and humankind. It can therefore leave a bad taste in an audience’s mouth or give them the wrong idea about what spirituality and religion can and should be used for.

For example, Doug Tennapel ("Earthworm Jim") laughed at how in the middle of Smallville, Kansas, there is never a Bible seen anywhere. Meanwhile, the reality of life in 'Smallville', America is Bible-toting, Church-going Christianity. Why hide from it? Moreover, why not use it to help define the characters? For if anything can help define a person, it is their faith (or faithlessness). How spectacularly interesting it would be to see young Clark Kent wrestle with faith as he wrestles with villainy, as he surely would be growing up in a moral, upright family in small town middle America. By shying away from this discussion, the panelists seemed to collectively say, you weaken the story and reality you are trying to convey.

The panelists were then challenged about their methods of handling faith in their own stories. While the witch talked of unwittingly (and unwillingly) gaining obedient converts through her pagan comics, the pro-life Christian Tennapel talked about the great fulfillment of winning over non-believers. He went on to talk about his most filthy comic, "Black Cherry", a rated-R mafia, demon story that he billed as his "most religious" book and the most successful among non-believers. The non-Christian audience was drawn to it, he suggested, because of its richly dark, demonic story, but in the process of believing in the tale, were forced to believe in the Christian hierarchy of metaphysical beings. In a sense, this is Tennapel’s way of evangelizing.

Which got me thinking of the power of stories. The Bible itself is, of course, a conglomerate of stories and parables. This makes comprehension easier. It simplifies life lessons, which could take some people years to figure out on their own, and narrows it nicely into a palatable morality tale. This is precisely what storytellers do, whether they are writing comic books or the next great American novel. This is why fans can be so dangerous, as they are literally fanatics, or fundamentalists, of whatever story they decide to latch onto and have faith in. Where then does authorial responsibility begin and poetic license (or freedom of expression) end? Is it safe to dive into spirituality, in whatever form, in media enjoyed by children and adamant non-believers.

Tennapel believes the author has less of a responsibility to his audience as he does to God, or whatever spirituality guides him or her. Responsibility depends upon the Muse, as it were, and not on how the Muse is received. "I’m going to make mistakes," Tennapel said in regards his portrayal of God and Christianity. But, "I’m not going to allow my fear over the subject matter to edit it [Faith] out of everything." Instead, he tries to figure out his faith as he writes, frequently adding God as a character. (Tennapel’s tip: If you find Fate or Destiny in a story, that’s the author trying to deal with God.)

The sentiment is noble and true enough. Authors, of course, should have the freedom to wrestle with the universe’s biggest questions as they see fit, readers be warned. But, it will continue to be an ongoing problem of fantasy fiction, particularly the kind that attracts fanatics in droves. While many find safety and guidance in Biblical Scripture, others find the same significant feelings and moral teachings in comic books (or films) which are nothing but stories and parables and morality tales of their own ilk.

As Caleb Monroe said, "You have to make the act of creating an act of faith. Most people can’t fake it." If authors of all kinds truly do, like Tennapel, earnestly tackle the big questions as they write their superheroes rather than toss them in like a garnish, I relish the great, lasting stories and parables we could see.  

First on the list might just be Tennapel’s Ghostopolis starring Hugh Jackman. Look out for that coming in the next year or two.