Nuclear Summer

I've spent more time than I'd like to admit this summer watching post-apocalyptic movies and TV series. I watched BBC's Survivors and am currently in the middle of Jericho. I'm going to guess that most people haven't watched these shows, let alone both of them and let alone recently. This genre has proved to be quite thought-provoking for me in many ways. Recently, it's led me to think about violence.

One of the major differences between these two shows (besides that Survivors is good and Jericho is pretty mediocre overall) is that one is American-made and the other British. This difference has given each show a particular position when it comes to guns. As far as I can remember, Survivors has only a few guns in the entire two seasons. One shotgun gets moved around from character to character, each time the gun itself being questioned as a solution to the characters' predicament in a post-pandemic world. In Jericho, however, guns are pervasive. Nearly each episode has a firefight as the citizens of Kansas try to protect their town after nuclear bombs destroy most of America.

Even though Jericho is not a great show, I think it's a helpful reminder about the problem with the perspective on violence that pervades American culture. The arguments I hear against pacifism or nonviolent resistance seem to rely heavily on fears of what the world would be without the 'protection' of weapons. The challenge for a community whose God died on a cross at the hands of state violence, however, is not to fear what the world will become but to imagine how the world might be otherwise. Relying on the fear engendered by nuclear deterrence seems to run counter to this call for hopeful imagination. Moreover, the more faith we put into weapons, no matter who wields them, the further we mire ourselves in the hopelessness we are called to reject for the hope we find in Christ.