Whose story is this?

These were the words spoken by the infamous green-skinned, fourth-wall-breaking lawyer Jennifer Walters, in the season finale of her show, She-Hulk. The series tells Walters’ story as she navigates parts of her professional, social and romantic life, all while being a 6ft7 tall Hulk. 

The season finale follows Walters as she deals with the fallout of an attack by a group of men who are determined to humiliate her and expose her as being dangerous.

At the pivotal moment in the episode, Walters dramatically breaks the fourth wall, pauses the episode, and goes straight to the Marvel writers’ room to demand a change in her story. They agree, and the narrative of the episode is changed. 

I personally loved the finale. I loved that Marvel took a different approach to storytelling and gave Walters a storyline that fit her character well.

Although, I can’t deny it, I was left wanting more.

Even if we didn’t get a full-blown, over the top, CGI-fuelled fight sequence where the enemy was beaten once and for all, we could’ve had a final fight in the courtroom where Walters flawlessly argues her way to victory like she had done in earlier episodes of the series. 

Walters clearly didn’t like where her story was going, but in the process of interrupting the narrative and redirecting it we missed seeing the dramatic defeat. (The moment was lost and when we return to it, the police have arrived and the enemy is simply handcuffed and taken away.)

This got me thinking about narratives, particularly the narratives we attempt to control and the ones that we tell ourselves, to create a false sense of comfort or out of a desire to be in control. 

We all use narratives 

As humans we are natural storytellers. We use stories to make sense of our world and the role that we play in it. In some circles we may view ourselves as the main character — the one driving the conversation and setting the tone in the room. While in other relationships we may just consider ourselves a sidekick to a louder personality. 

We also may have a tendency to fabricate narratives to convince ourselves of something that just simply isn’t true when things aren’t going our way. We could think that we’re the main love interest of the new face in our lives, only to find out a few weeks later that we’re actually just the best friend who is only in the storyline as comedic relief. 

In the New Testament, the Greek word for truth (alētheia) is also the word that is used for ​“real” or ​“reality”. It’s the word that is used when Jesus calls Himself ​“the way, the truth and the life” in John 14. 

From a biblical view, truth and reality are the same thing. No matter how hard we try, we cannot separate the two. What is true is real, and vice versa. 

It is vital that we base our truth and reality on what God has declared to be true and real through His word, and not on selfish narratives we try to spin for our own benefit. Especially as sometimes the cost of these narratives can be visited on the people around us. 

We are not the only cast member in the story

Walters isn’t the only character in her series. The decisions that she makes impact the lives of others around her and although she is adamant that she is the hero throughout, there are a group of men in the series who are convinced that she is the real enemy. Their perspectives are deeply rooted in misogyny, but this raises the question: What are the roles that we give to others in our own narratives?

No matter how much we may live in our own worlds in whatever role we think suits us best, we can’t ignore the fact that our narratives are deeply intertwined with the lives and narratives of others. Whether it’s with the apparently faceless letter that comes through from your bank that was actually written by a worker with their own complexities, the barista at your local coffee shop who gets your caffeine-free, extra foam, caramel oat milk latte just right, or with that fellow commuter who you always seem to race to the last remaining seat on your packed train home. We do not exist in insolation in our story.

God from the start created all humans in His image (Genesis 1:27) meaning that all humans have inherent dignity and worth. Everyone has their own narrative that they are creating and weaving as they also journey on through life. Which is why it is important to remember that they are as worthy of dignity and respect in our narratives as we are. 

We are invited into a greater narrative

You and I are ultimately invited to participate in the greatest narrative ever told, that which is written by God Himself.

Jesus’ invitation to those who wish to follow Him to ​“deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow [Him]” (Luke 9:23) is ultimately an invitation to give up control.

To die to any She-Hulk-like impulses that make us want to smash our way through to the creator and demand that He writes our stories our way.

Instead, we are invited to hand over our pens and notepads and follow the greatest author and storyteller there has been and there will ever be, and allow Him to write a greater narrative than we could ever think or imagine.