Avengers: Endgame, the MCU, and Biblical Theology
I first wrote this post when Avengers: Endgame was released in 2019. Unfortunately, it disappeared, along with my other posts, when I moved my website from GoDaddy to Squarespace. With Endgame returning to cinemas ahead of Doomsday, it seemed like a good idea to revisit the thoughts that prompted that review.
And if it’s not obvious, there are spoilers ahead. After seven years I think that’s fair – and it’s entirely your fault if anything is spoiled!
Seven years later, Avengers: Endgame has held up remarkably well for me.
The inconsistent quality of the Marvel movies and Disney Plus offerings since then has probably helped. Even my original quibbles have softened – like how old man Steve Rogers appears at the end to hand off the shield to Sam Wilson. Some things I’ve come to appreciate more; others I’m happy to let the fans and their sufficiently convincing fan theories on YouTube smooth over. I’m happy to give them that.
But one of my favourite experiences of the film came much more recently, when I finally watched it with my two girls as they made their way through the MCU.
They are relatively vocal movie watchers – like their mother! Watching them watch Endgame for the first time was a real treat: the surprises, the recognition, the delight when something from an earlier film came back around and mattered even more. I found myself constantly looking over to see their reactions.
And I was achingly jealous.
They were getting to experience all of this for the first time.
And watching them reminded me of what I loved about Endgame in the first place.
The satisfaction of seeing it come together
Endgame brings together the threads of the preceding 21 films with an extraordinary sense of payoff. Relationships are repaired, earlier moments return with greater significance, and characters reach endings that feel earned by their character arcs we’ve taken with them.
“Satisfying” was the word I used in my original review. It still fits.
Take Tony Stark.
In Iron Man, he is the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist we all came to love. He was also the weapons manufacturer forced to confront the suffering his weapons caused. His story then follows an uneven road through responsibility, pride, fear, failure and his attempts to protect the people he loves.
I’d even hazard to say that his less liked movies (ahem, Iron Man 2, ahem) play significant roles in his character development.
By Endgame, he has a family and a life he deeply wants to keep. That makes his final choice all the more costly. The man we first met in Iron Man lays his life down on the tripwire to save others, doing what Steve Rogers thought he’d never do.
And his final words, “I am Iron Man”, is the obvious and most glorious callback to the final words in his first movie. The words were simple, yet every movie since Iron Man 1 gives them a weight they never carried at the beginning.
Then there’s Steve Rogers. The soldier out of time.
His first film ends with him sacrificing his hoped-for life with Peggy Carter to save others. His willingness to give himself for others consistently runs through his story, alongside his struggle to find a place in a world that has moved on without him.
(And as an important-to-me aside, I think Steve was right in Civil War. His motives came fresh off his experience in Winter Soldier. He’s then being asked again to trust a large, anonymous government agency to direct his actions. He was right to not sign! There, I said it. #TeamCap)
Endgame gave him that long-delayed dance.
And yes, with Cap as my favourite superhero, I teared up the most at that moment.
For all the discussion about how the final scene fits the film’s time-travel rules – and I had my questions too – I still find it deeply moving. We know who Peggy is. We remember what Steve lost. We’ve followed him long enough to understand why this sepia-toned ending mattered.
I’m not sure you could explain the plot of Endgame to someone who had never watched the earlier films. I saw a review of two women who tried – having only seen Iron Man 1. It was a hilarious and albeit predictable read. (though I can’t seem to find it online anymore…) Understanding what happens is one thing. But the emotional weight of the Endgame moments grows out of knowing the stories that brought us here.
That was the main delight of watching with my girls. They were catching things because they remembered. Their attention to the earlier films was being rewarded.
Reading with the whole story in mind
This is where Endgame and the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) got me thinking about the Bible originally.
Scripture was written by many human authors, across multiple centuries and in different geographical locations. It contains the genres of history, poetry, prophecy, letters and more. And yet, through all that variety, the Bible tells one unfolding story of God’s purposes for his world, centred on Jesus Christ.
That unity is something I keep finding utterly remarkable. Filling me with awe and worship.
“Biblical theology” is a fancy way of saying that we read the Bible paying attention to the unfolding story: tracing how God’s promises, his dealings with his people, and the patterns established earlier in Scripture lead us towards Jesus and the fulfilment he brings.
The multiple character arcs in the MCU help illustrate the pleasure of following a story through to its conclusion. In Scripture, that same story shape goes deeper. As we follow the history, promises and expectations of the Old Testament, we grow in our understanding of who Jesus is and what he has come to do.
Consider the story of Israel’s kings.
There are parts of that history that can feel remote. Kings come and go. Many of the names are difficult to keep straight. Even the better kings have serious failures, and the many accounts of decline can become wearying.
Yet through that history, a question keeps pressing upon us: who will lead God’s people faithfully?
David is an important answer, and God promises him a kingdom that will endure (2 Samuel 7). And while David’s story has some remarkable high points his own failures (and that his story ends on such a whimper), and those of the kings who follow him, deepen our longing for a king who will rule with righteousness and justice.
The prophets turn that longing into the shape of a promise:
[6] For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
[7] Of the increase of his government and of peace
there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this. (Isaiah 9:6–7, ESV)
Then Luke introduces Jesus as the one who will receive David’s throne and reign over a kingdom without end:
[32] He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, [33] and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” (Luke 1:32–33, ESV)
Those words carry the weight of the earlier story. Reading about the kings helps us understand why Luke’s announcement matters. Following their failures helps us appreciate the faithfulness of Jesus. Hearing the promises helps us recognise what God is doing when his Son arrives.
And Jesus himself teaches his disciples to read the Scriptures with him at their centre.
On the road to Emmaus, he explains what Moses and the Prophets say concerning him; later, then he opens his disciples’ minds to understand the Scriptures in light of his suffering, resurrection and the proclamation of repentance and forgiveness (Luke 24:25–27, 44–47).
(I’m writing a book on this, and it’s nearly done. I’m hoping to summarise each main character in the Bible and how Jesus might have used those stories to point to himself.)
There is a great deal to discover when we learn to read this way. And a lot of awe and worship along the way.
Keep reading
Of course, reading the Bible requires more of us than watching 21 movies back to back over a few months like my girls did. Some passages take patient study. Some raise difficult questions. Sometimes the connection to the wider story will take help from someone who has travelled that ground before.
So, let me encourage you to persevere, especially through the parts that feel unfamiliar or remote.
Ask these questions:
Where am I in the story?
What has God promised?
What is this passage showing me about his people, their need, and his faithfulness?
How does it contribute to the story that finds its centre in Jesus?
Some connections will become clearer as you keep reading, and clearer still when you return to a passage you’ve read before.
It’s not easy, and for people with shrinking attention spans it’s hard work. But it’s hard work that pays off gloriously!
And we also read as people awaiting the story’s promised conclusion. Jesus has died and risen, and we’re still looking forward to his return, the resurrection of the dead, and the renewal of all things. The ending God has promised gives us reason to trust him through the part of the story we’re living now.
I loved watching my girls discover how much those earlier films had been preparing them for. And I’d love for us to experience more of that joy as we read the Bible together.
If you’re finding some parts hard going, I hope you’ll keep going, and ask someone to help you along the way. You don’t have to spot every connection on your first reading. There are passages we return to years later and find ourselves wondering how we missed what was there all along.
And friend, that is my prayer for you as we keep reading. That Jesus will become more precious to us, and we’ll find ourselves increasingly glad that we’re not just reading his story, but that we belong to it as well.
