Within the past few weeks, quite a number of the Gospel readings have included stories of Our Lord referencing his Father, “the One who sent me.” In addition to this, we are well on our way to celebrating Father’s Day. The relationship between God the Father and God the Son holds a special place in Catholic teaching and comes attached with no small measure of divine mystery. Philippians 2:6 tells us that Jesus “who, although he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped…”
God the Father and God the Son (as well as the Advocate, the Holy Spirit) are united and equal in divinity. They are not different gods but rather one God in three Persons. Their goal is one and the same; they work toward the same consummation. What sets each Person of the Blessed Trinity apart is their role, what each does to bring about the fulfillment of the common divine goal, the Will of God.
This essay will focus on the examples of righteous and admirable fatherhood displayed in various characters of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, comparing significant instances of paternal love to those of Catholic tradition, particularly in the relationship between God the Father and Jesus Christ. It will expose the erroneous parenting of the villain Thanos and point out the fatherly virtues of several benevolent, male role models.
A good deal of the supportive, loving, and nurturing examples of superhero fatherhood can be found in the MCU’s latest installment, the mega-grossing Avengers: Endgame. However, the past two Avengers films begin to show an in-depth character development between a villainous father and his adopted children, specifically two of his daughters: Gamora and Nebula. Of course, their infamous foster father is none other than Thanos, the Titan responsible for half the devastation of life in the universe.
What does Thanos have to do with being a good parent? Practically nothing – nothing good anyway. But it’s interesting to compare the similarities and differences between the Thanos-Gamora relationship and the Odin-Loki relationship in the MCU. Both relationships involve the father being some kind of warrior and battle leader attacking an opposing force, adopting a child of the enemy, and raising the child as his own.
Additionally, each of these dads raises a pair of children with at least one sibling from each pair harboring feelings of extreme rivalry. In the case of Thanos’ two adopted daughters Gamora and Nebula, both admirably display prowess and perseverance in training. They are warriors, and both want to be daddy’s favorite.
Meanwhile, two brothers, Thor and his adopted brother Loki, have grown, but their paths in life veer off from one another. Thor is called to be the next king of Asgard, while Loki has a promising future as a magician. However, Loki has other plans as he becomes increasingly jealous of his muscular brother, desiring the throne with a dangerous lust for power.
Thanos, like Odin, has a number of children who end up disagreeing with him, distancing themselves from him and making themselves enemies of his goal. But what sets Thanos and Odin apart when it comes to paternity? How they treat their children and how they handle sibling rivalry.
In addition to being the Hitler of the MCU, when it comes to parenting, Thanos is also Marvel’s version of Denethor. In The Lord of the Rings, we see Denethor showing favoritism to his eldest son Boromir, who is more successful in battle than his sibling Faramir. As a result, Denethor ends up gifting favoritism to Boromir which simply manifests itself as an offering of more special tasks to the favorite son.
Sound familiar? It should be because it’s practically the same thing Thanos does in constantly showing favoritism to Gamora over Nebula, hence Nebula’s warranted anger toward Thanos and briefly toward her sister Gamora. As far as Thanos is concerned, his adopted children are merely objects for his use like pawns on a chessboard. In his eyes, their merit is based on how efficiently they can fight or how they play into his grand scheme. He turns his children into war machines, and to him, it is this function that determines their value. When he wants something, say information, he uses a daughter like a tracking device. When he wants power for destruction, he sacrifices his daughter to get one step closer. Thanos is someone who does not allow love to penetrate his heart and govern his actions.
If we look closely at Odin, however, we will notice that his relationship with his sons is not based principally and solely upon use. Instead, his is a relationship of love, love transmitted in his stern decisions and expectations for varying responsibilities on the part of both Loki and Thor. On numerous occasions throughout the MCU timeline, Loki and Thor have had a sort of Cain and Abel relationship, so strong is Loki’s envy and distaste for his brother.
In Loki and Thor, we simply see two different vocations, two separate callings. For the majority of the time, Loki refuses to accept or even strive for his authentic destiny, allowing his ego to drive him all over the universe in his ravenous quest for a position of dominion. Nevertheless, Odin’s fatherly love comes out in discipline and wise counsel. As depicted in Thor (2011), Odin – out of love – forces Thor into a humbling state so that Thor can rediscover the meaning of the weighty responsibility of being King of Asgard. In this symbolic representation of a spiritual retreat, this “Dark Night of the Soul,” Thor eventually finds a more genuine selflessness, once again becoming worthy of Mjölnir, his hammer.
It is chiefly in this disciplinary attribute that Odin can become a type to God the Father. In a somewhat deontological sense, God the Father puts his children through various difficult trials in order to build up their character, to make them grow in virtue, to make them stronger brothers and sisters to and through Christ.
Another fantastic father figure showcased in the MCU is Scott Lang, the new Ant-Man we see traipsing around with the Avengers. His parenting skills have been developing over his first two movies and strike a climatic chord in Endgame. Whether he’s there for support, bringing her a gift, or simply being the interactive, energetic, and fun dad she needs, Scott is always there for his daughter Cassie.
But when he exits the quantum realm in Endgame and sees that some sort of disaster has struck, Scott frantically searches for his daughter. This interesting reversal of the Prodigal Son parable ends with the return of the father to his child, not the other way around. Yet, the father’s motives and the strong desire to embrace his child are the same in both instances. While the father runs to the son when he sees him approaching at a distance in Christ’s parable, Scott Lang runs in search of his daughter. The endeavor of each father is rewarded, coming to fruition, resulting in the loving caress between a dad and his child. You don’t have to jog your memory too severely to recall that Thanos never showed any such affection – for anyone, let alone his own children.
If Scott Lang’s greatest parental attribute was his comical personality and jollity, then Hawkeye’s would have to be one of a defensive and educational mindset. He is just as human as Scott is. However, his chief interest in his role as a father is that of instructor and protector. One of the primary virtues he has displayed is that of courage. His valiance has been proven rather melodramatically at times, and his survival can be explained by his expertise with the use of a longbow. He takes this passion of his, this art, and begins passing it down to his daughter. It is one of the greatest things he has to offer her apart from his paternal love.
Even so, Hawkeye never treats his kids as things to serve him merely as enslaved instruments, to be abused whenever his fancy deems it acceptable. He isn’t Thanos. Rather, similar to Scott Lang, Clint Barton truly loves his daughter and two sons. He may educate them in some of the arts of war, but at the end of the day, that is not the most important thing. For Barton, family comes first. He knows it, and he is dedicated to it.
Captain America, though perhaps not a biological father in the movies, has had an inspirational air about him ever since he became a figure of bravery and victory in Captain America: The First Avenger (2011). We see Steve rallying troops to his side, encouraging the men to fight for land and liberty. He entertained a nation, usually to the same effect, even though his heart wasn’t in it.
By the end of his first movie, though he is now gone to his generation, the youths of Brooklyn remember the man who was one of them. Even when he returns to action decades later, he carries this same influence, his personality naturally evoking an admiration from his fellow men. Steve Rogers is a soldier, a born leader, a man who leaves no other left behind. He is the new face of “Uncle Sam,” and as a leading military force, he is a protective father figure to many fighting alongside him.
Of course, an analysis of fatherhood in the MCU would be horribly short-handed and insufficient if it left out the latest dad to come onto the scene in this universe: Iron-Man. In Infinity War, Tony whimsically tells Pepper Potts of his dream about the two of them having a kid. Five years later, his dream is a reality. Pepper and Tony are happily married and caring for a beautiful daughter named Morgan. Tony’s relationship with Morgan is quite close to the father-daughter relationship between Scott and Cassie: one in which the father is visibly kind, caring, and loving and in which the child reciprocates those feelings.
Throughout the MCU timeline, we catch glimpses of genuine paternal love from various father figures and the associated virtues which come into play as a result of that love. Yet, upon examination, the parenting styles, say between Ant-Man and Odin, differ drastically one from another while continuing to maintain roughly the same desire for their children: happiness and fulfillment. And these come from love, both being given as well as received. This is what God the Father wants for his children, and it is the desire of the Son and the Holy Spirit as well. God wishes to enter into intimate communion with us – as a brother, as a counselor, and as a father.
John Tuttle
John Tuttle is a Catholic journalist, blogger, and photographer. He has written for Prehistoric Times, Culture Wars Magazine, Those Catholic Men, Catholic Insight, Inside Over, Ancient Origins, Love They Nerd, We Got This Covered, Cultured Vultures, and elsewhere. He can be reached at jptuttleb9@gmail.com.