I believe this is the first “movie review” that I have offered in this blog. It is not that I do not watch movies. Nor is it that I think there is not often material worthy of theological reflection in films. I normally assume that you are able to make the sense you need to make of the movies you see. And there always seems so much else to reflect about.

But it feels almost mandatory that I offer some thoughts in response to Black Panther. The film continues to set box office records now close enough the Star Wars to begin raising eyebrows for some and expectation from others.

I confess to pleasure in seeing a major film in which all of the heroes and most of the villains are African American. And although the film is really a comic book in motion, the notion of a hidden African kingdom where technology has advanced in ways and to extents that our corporate culture can only imagine…well, that is an interesting premise.

“Wakanda” is the fictional East African country, hidden in plain sight, that is home to the Black Panther. It was in 1966 that the folks at Marvel Comics used the name for a hidden kingdom of scientist warriors with the most advanced technological capabilities on the planet.

But the etymology of the name is far more ancient than that. And according to research reported in the Washington Post, the origin of the name is not African at all, but thoroughly American.

From the Post article: “Among the Plains Indian peoples—the Omaha, the Kansa, the Ponka, the Osage and others—Wakanda was (and is) a name for God. … The ancestors of the Omaha and Ponka believed that there was a Supreme Being, whom they called Wakanda.”

Recorded in some sources as Wah’Kon’Tah, it is both a source and a destination: a place from which all goodness emerged and to which all aspired to journey.

It was, and is, one name for what some would call heaven.

The name lingered “as a haunting remnant of displaced languages and beliefs.” It was used to name summer camps and even appeared as the name of a camp in the 1984 movie Ghostbusters.

It was probably Edgar Rice Burroughs, of Tarzan fame, who transplanted Wakanda from the American plains to Africa.

In this time when we, at First Unitarian, have begun to honor the indigenous peoples of Oregon, on whose land we live, it seems important to honor the source and meaning of the name.

The Washington Post reporter concluded: “Some words, it seems, are like heroes we invent with them: shape-shifting, resilient, rising again when they are needed most.”

Wakanda does not exist. But the hope that the movie holds up, the positive presentation of African culture, of female strength and of generosity of spirit all made sitting in that theater time well spent for me.

I fly to Memphis this afternoon to deliver a lecture at the Unitarian Universalist Church of the River. I said yes to the invitation for two reasons. The first is that I have known their new minister, Sam Teitel, since he was 6 years old. His mother, Mary Harrington, and I were in seminary together (along with Tom Disrud, btw). We became fast friends and our families have remained close. When he asked me to accept the invitation, it was hard to say “no.”

But the other reason is the topic. This is Memphis where Dr. King was assassinated, 50 years ago this month. And I was asked to speak about Dr. King and the 50 years since his death. The topic is Redeeming Our History.

I had to say “yes.” I will be back and in the pulpit on Sunday for Earth Day.

Until then, let me simply cross my arms over my chest and say “Wakanda.”

 

Blessings,

Bill