It's not all good; it’s not meant to be. But there is some good theology in the Amazon/BBC series “Good Omens,” based on the book of the same title by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. The plot of “Good Omens” centers around two characters, an angel named Aziraphale and a demon named Crowley, who have spent all their days since Adam and Eve developing a friendship despite being on opposite sides of a cosmic battle.
The central religious message of this show is a lighthearted critique of Christians who claim faith in a providential God, a God with a plan, but whose plan is utterly incomprehensible. Given this, the petition for the show’s removal by a Christian group is not terribly surprising. Nevertheless, this playful jab at religion does contain some good theology, if almost by accident. It is a marvelous thing to be human, perhaps even better than being an angel.
Viewers find Crowley and Aziraphale in the 21st century, happily (albeit covertly) enjoying fine dining, fast cars and expensive, outdated clothing. They have long since done away with worrying about if the demon should do the tempting and if the angel should do the blessing when they receive assignments from their superiors. Then they learn the apocalypse is about to begin. This would put an end to their comfortable lifestyle on earth, and they find themselves siding not with angels or demons, but rather with human beings in this final battle.
It's not all good; it’s not meant to be. But there is some good theology in the Amazon/BBC series “Good Omens.”
Their first attempt at preserving humanity involves a joint effort to guide the would-be Antichrist to a life that balances good and evil. Unfortunately, they find they were guiding the wrong child altogether. The actual Antichrist is not discovered until his 11th birthday, a fact that allowed him an exceedingly normal childhood. Soon after, he is joined by the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Crowley and Aziraphale are there not so much to help as to empower the young Antichrist to make his own fully human decisions, as he has always done. Viewers are ultimately left with the assessment of Crowley and Aziraphale: To hell with heaven! And to heaven with hell! In other words, it is better to be a mix of good and evil than to be all good or all evil. It is better to be human than to be an angel or a demon.
All too human
Here we can find a theological truth. It is better to be human, but not exactly for the reason Aziraphale and Crowley state. Beginning with the obvious, it is better to be human than to be a demon. This is not a particularly interesting or controversial claim. But is it also better to be human than to be an angel?
We generally think of angels as above us, and in the theology of Thomas Aquinas, the Angelic Doctor, angels do hold a hierarchical position above us. Animals are non-rational fleshy creatures, human beings are rational fleshy creatures and angels are rational non-fleshy creatures, giving us a full taxonomy of the ways creatures can be. For Aquinas, this helps clarify what it means to be human and how we relate to God. It does not, however, necessarily suggest that angels are “better” than human beings—whatever “better” might mean.
Furthermore, one of the most shocking aspects of Christianity is that God becomes human. When God enters into creation, God does so as a human being—not a fish, not an angel. In his introduction to Catholicism, The Mystery of Faith, Michael Himes calls the Incarnation “the most extraordinary compliment ever paid to being human.” The Incarnation is a reminder of the proclamation in Genesis that we are made Imago Dei, in the image and likeness of God. Human beings, more so than any other creature, are like God. Crowley and Aziraphale are right.
It is better to be human than to be a demon. This is not a particularly interesting or controversial claim. But is it also better to be human than to be an angel?
Nevertheless, in both Christian theology and “Good Omens,” exactly what makes human beings so great, exactly what the Imago Dei consists of, is hard to pin down. Aziraphale suggests a middle way between good and evil is ideal, but certainly it cannot be that angels are inferior because they are too good. Nor can the Imago Dei be rationality or free will. Angels are likewise rational and have chosen good, and demons are likewise rational and have chosen evil. The uniqueness of humanity is perhaps in our continual choosing of good, even after we have continually chosen evil. In fact, most of our choices are not absolutely good or evil—they are muddled together.
No one demonstrates this fact better than Crowley and Aziraphale as they embrace the human way of existence. Crowley and Aziraphale have lived on earth for millennia. Surely they have seen the destruction and suffering of the world. And yet, they miraculously reserve themselves a table at the Ritz. They are as caught up in social sin as anyone, but they also choose love and self-sacrifice in the midst of their sin. One could hope for a stronger message for social justice—perhaps reserving seats for some lower-income Londoners, but we must settle for a quieter declaration of the principle of human dignity. The principle of human dignity states that all human life is sacred, and it is the foundation of Catholic Social Teaching. It is a dignity that is not, and cannot, be tied to our innocence—for Aziraphale and Crowley are anything but innocent, to say nothing of the rest of us. It is a dignity that puts us permanently on God’s side, that makes us permanently in the image and likeness of God.
The best laid plans
Social sin is an important backdrop for what Catholic theologian Ivone Gebara calls “everyday resurrections.” While the resurrection of Christ is entirely absent from “Good Omens,” the show is full of everyday resurrections. Gebara’s theology directs our attention to the poor women of Brazil for whom the full promise of new life in Christ seems to be a fantasy permanently out of reach. And yet, God breaks through the daily struggles in ways that are simultaneously impossible and ordinary. A hot cup of coffee; a laughing toddler; a deep conversation; a beautiful landscape.
For those of us living in the “already, but not yet” state of the kingdom of God (i.e., all of us), everyday resurrections are where we find God breaking through not only poverty but all forms of evil. These resurrections are not found at the end of life but within life, even lives marked by suffering.
Over the course of human history, Crowley and Aziraphale gradually join humanity in the “already, but not yet.” They meet the descendant of a witch hunter who falls in love with the descendant of a witch. Impossible. Ordinary. They discover the child Antichrist, who foils even the best laid plans of the demons by loving not only his friends, but also his dog and his parents. Impossible. Ordinary.
While the resurrection of Christ is entirely absent from “Good Omens,” the show is full of everyday resurrections.
The temptation of despair
The real foes in "Good Omens" are not the demons, but the four horsemen of the apocalypse: (in the show) war, famine, pollution and death. Evil is not attractive to the young Antichrist, but the four horsemen suggest that goodness is futile and that everyday resurrections will never amount to lasting redemption. Despair begins to take root in the young boy’s heart, and he almost goes through with destroying the world. How else can things possibly be made good again? How could the fullness of the kingdom of God possibly come from this? One is reminded of Willow in “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” a witch who feels the pain of all those who suffer so acutely that destroying the world seems to be the only option. Or, perhaps one is reminded of God herself (God is voiced by Frances McDormand in “Good Omens”) in the story of Noah. The Antichrist’s friends save the day in “Good Omens.” They are kids, and they are hopeful. Resurrections come easily for them.
Humans in “Good Omens” are actually better than the angels. The angels don’t understand resurrection: how love breaks through evil even now. God is an absent narrator for the angels and demons, but for humanity she is present in the everyday resurrections even if she is similarly unnamed. Human beings somehow get it. Humanity lives into the bold statement of Micah 7:8: “Do not rejoice over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me.” Humans rise, not only at the end of time, but all the time. In “Good Omens,” to believe in everyday resurrections is to be Imago Dei; it is to be human.
We might as well invite the enemy to lunch at the Ritz. Or fall in love with the enemy. Or let a hellhound become the family dog. Or discover that the last enemy, death, makes a very competent mailman. Impossible. Ordinary.
This is a very good analysis of a show I love!