What is profound is often unexpected. My love for the Star Wars franchise started young. I loved the world the movies created- the worlds, really. Hoth. Tatooine. Mustafar. Kasshyyk. Coruscant. Bespin. The moons of Yavin and Endor. Iconic locales and imagery that stuck with me through the years. Beyond just the locations, the characters and driving plot was and is, classic and untouchable. There's a purity to the simplicity of the story. There's also hidden complexity in the way that the story is told. Episode IV fleetingly mentions the Clone Wars: what were those? And how did the Jedi fight for justice and peace in the galaxy? The prequels, maligned though they are, provided a masterful answer: a conflict that brought the galaxy to its knees and brought the rise of the Galactic Empire. At heart, Star Wars is a story of good and evil, and of friendship and love. It is inspiring, uplifting, and tragic all in one. And it is one of the greatest stories ever told. With th
I spent my childhood learning about God. What he wanted from us humans, and how we could give it to him. What we were saddled with from birth: sin. Like with other religious sects, I grew up believing in my inherent imperfection. I grew up with the belief that life was suffering, and we had to make meaning from it. We would fail, constantly, and never live up to the standards God set for us, so we had to hope for the future. Through God's power alone could the world be set aright. Only through God's grace could we ever be forgiven. Jesus is the epitome of this viewpoint: His one time death was the only thing needed to release all men from sin and death. (Now, being Protestant, my birth religion did also focus on "works" not just "faith", but that's a separate concern.) Jesus needed to suffer for the world to be saved. And we, his spiritual descendants, had to suffer for the world to be saved. My belief growing up, then, was that suffer