Through the Emperor of Samurai Jack as a Parallel Illustration

*The Seventh Plague of Egypt (1823).* *Oil painting by John Martin*.

“The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully.”

— Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion (2006)

A common sentiment prevalent in the New Atheist circles and vehemently paraded by prominent high priests of the movement. While these high profile voices are a vocal minority in cyberspace, it can hardly be overstated the rapidity by which their ideas catch on to street-level folks and leave lasting impressions.

Such impressions of God spill over into the Kerygma of the Gospel, perverting the message of true love into one of fear and blackmail.

And it’s, at times, understandable why people come to such conclusions.

Especially so if they’ve had a turbulent upbringing saturated with shame and legalistic guilt-trips, been influenced by a rose-tinted reading of the Bible only to have their expectations shattered by reality (or coming across many difficult, seemingly contradictory passages) and/or were ingrained heresies that warp the meaning of God’s will, of justification and orthopraxy.

Hence, the street-level person views faith dismissively (or with indifference or antagonism), while the likes of Dawkins, Hitchens, Harris et al go on a long (ironically evangelical) tirade pathologizing religion and belief in all things intangible and otherworldly as a plague to purge through advancing rational thinking and (natural) sciences.

Armed with relevant scripture verses, God is painted as a cosmic tyrant and narcissistic puppeteer — an entity unworthy of worship and esteem. These Biblical “proof-texts” often detail acts of violence attributed to God’s will, seeming endorsement of morally questionable practices (e.g., slavery), and apparent Draconian commandments.

For a time, this writer shared aligned wavelengths with the New Atheist thought. What sowed the seeds of metanoia was following the Samurai Jack cartoon to its proper conclusion when season 5 aired in 2017.

Specifically, there was an episode featuring a flashback of Samurai Jack’s father, The Emperor, brutally cutting down several men and making it rain blood in front of the young prince.

After four seasons where violent action sequences were subject to censorship (in which Jack’s foes tend to be robots, aliens, demons and various monsters), the final season featured on-screen gory human deaths (now that the fans of the show growing up have all aged out of childhood).

It came to my realization that taking the above scene as its own isolated narrative paints a flawed, incomplete picture of the Emperor. Actions shouldn’t be judged in a vacuum, because the reality is that they occur in a context with all its relevant cultural subtleties, worldviews and particular parties involved.

And taking into account these factors could either vindicate a person, mitigate their culpability or condemn them. This makes a world of difference between objectivity and the presumptuous maligning of others whilst under the illusion of rationality.

Here, this treatise strives to tackle the charge of moral evil against God by walking in the Emperor’s shoes in that moment when he killed those men and try to understand his angle in the story as a corollary to rightly learning who God is (and isn’t).

An Overview of The Emperor — Samurai Jack’s Father.

The Emperor of Edo Japan (voiced by Sab Shimono), was a minor character in the mythos of Samurai Jack. Despite his limited screen time, his commanding presence was more than sufficient to depict his personality and leave a pleasant impression.

I remember seeing him on screen and feeling at peace with his fatherly warmth and wisdom. In the show’s opening episode, he advises his son the necessity of exercising discernment and discretion when battling Evil as its weaponization of subterfuge complicates the endeavours of righteousness.

“I thought once like you, but the sword is only a tool. What power has it compared to the hand that wields it? Evil is clever, and deception is its most powerful weapon. Let the sword guide you to your fate, but let your mind set free the path to your destiny. […] Be wary, my son. For Evil finds a way.” — The Emperor, Episode I.

In the episode “Jack remembers the Past” (Episode XIX), we see him teach his son healthy masculinity, conviction and resilience — qualities which are sadly, sorely sidelined in our current society. Later in the same episode, we see his father’s wisdom equip him to deal with three bullies shrewdly, allowing him to retrieve his toy ball they stole from him prior without an altercation.

“Dry your tears, my son, for nothing worth having is easily attained. Sometimes you must fight for what is yours and for what you believe in.” — The Emperor, Episode XIX.

In another episode, where Jack was infected with Aku’s essence (“The Aku Infection”, Episode XLIII), his spirit alongside with his wife console Jack’s tormented psyche and empower him to exorcise Aku’s corruption from his soul.

A poignant depiction of love and grace in the dark valley (cf. Psalm 23:4).

“You are not alone, my son. We are always with you, here in your heart. The place we will make our stand against this Evil.”
— The Emperor.
“But… I wasn’t there for you.”
— Samurai Jack.
“Nonsense! Aku’s victories are not your failures. The struggle against Aku is arduous and none have fought more bravely than you, my son. Wield what lies within and reclaim what is yours. Break this siege of Darkness.”
— The Emperor.

From these instances, long-time fans remember the Emperor as a wise and benevolent soul. Sadly, often is kindness conflated with niceness — being a pushover. As we observe in the Emperor’s confrontation with the men he slashed to pieces, kindness does not preclude the display of sterner stuff.

When push comes to shove, keeping your head down or playing the doormat only serves to allow injustices to fester.

And that is anything but kind, let alone virtuous.

Confrontation with the Brigands (Season 5 — Episode XCIV).

Imagine you’re the Emperor himself, peacefully riding in your caravan with your wife and son on your excursion.

When out of the blue, arrows penetrate the carriage and your guards are murdered before you. Your imperial entourage had been ambushed by unruly brigands.

“Emperor, your guards are dead! And you’re next!” — Chief Bandit.

It goes without saying that the brigands sought to rob you of your riches, in all likelihood assault your wife and son and usurp your authority. Nevertheless, you decide to give them a second chance and diplomatically resolve matters.

Maybe the brigands were desperate and had families to feed. Thus, by sparing their lives (or lightening their sentences), you spare their loved ones from bereavement. You can provide assistance to the men and their families to thrive, and give your guards a dignified burial and dispense just compensations for their families.

“Your choices have clearly lead you here, as have mine. I will give you a new choice: Leave now and live, or stay and face your destiny.”

But no, the bandits spurned your offer of clemency and mocked your laws, sealing their own fates. In the words of the chief brigand:

“Ha! Your bushido (武士道) nonsense means nothing to us! Your destiny is death!”

In the twinkling of an eye, you bisect and disembowel the brigands, saving your wife and son from certain death and avenging the unjust murder of your guards.

As the Emperor, you establish laws to sustain order, peace and justice in your land, enabling your citizens to flourish. Your imperial authority was further ratified by the supreme gods Odin, Ra and Rama, when they empowered you with the katana of righteousness to rescue your people from Aku’s roaring rampage of tyranny.

That said, who are they to challenge you? As they reside in your land, they are your subjects bound to your laws. For whatever reasons known to them, they decide insubordination despite being beneficiaries of your just rule rooted in the Bushido code.

Since they rejected your mercy, the only option left is retribution. As Emperor, it’s your prerogative to execute judgement. And considering the situation, you’re perfectly justified in killing those brigands.

Killing includes murder, but not all killing is murder.

In this case, you delivered due justice consistent with your imperial role. The brigands learn the hard way, their law-breaking decisions brought death onto themselves; your exacting of capital punishment merely the final logical consequence of their impenitence. They paid the ultimate price with their lives.

Back at the palace, you wash the bloodstains off your son’s face, who’s clearly shaken by the ordeal. Consoling the young Samurai, you explain that you took no pleasure in the bandits’ deaths and that they’re ultimately responsible for their own fates.

Thus, you impart in him an important proverb, that has equipped him well into adulthood.

“The decisions you make and the actions that follow, are a reflection of who you are. **You cannot hide from yourself.**” — The Emperor.

The “trivial” decisions and behaviours made each day compound cumulatively, significantly influencing your overall trajectory towards either righteousness or depravity. Hence, the consequences, however adverse or favourable, that result from those choices and actions are revealing of the true state of your heart, which no amount of excuses and blame games can ever refute otherwise.

You are responsible for your moral integrity, your emotions and your endeavours.

Concluding Thoughts.

“There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.”
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man’s Fear
“Abashed the Devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss.”
― John Milton, Paradise Lost
“To fear the Lord is the root of wisdom, and her branches are long life. The fear of the Lord drives away sins; and where it abides, it will turn away all anger.”
— Book of Sirach, Chapter 1 (v. 20–21)

At some point, we all know of this one person who’s mild-mannered, calm and composed on a daily basis, similar to the Emperor and Samurai Jack. One fine day, because of some grave injustice or having had far too many straws piled on their backs, they display an outburst of aggression or an intimidating aura of tranquil fury, dedicated to setting the wrong things right.

Fighting the Daughters of Aku with lethal intent. Still from Season 5 (2017).

And it’s harrowing to witness the rage of a gentle soul, coupled with the destruction of a relationship once amicable.

At times it’s our fault when it happens; especially so when we chronically take them for granted and equate their kindness with weakness or license for selfish behaviour. Moreover, it’s far too easy to deflect responsibility by (wrongly) writing off their uncharacteristic rage as two-faced.

But what if this teaches a vital truth about Love (cf. 1 John 4:8) often overlooked or misunderstood?

What if His mercy and justice aren’t mutually exclusive, dichotomous characteristics, but complementary expressions of His love, intertwined and inseparable as light and heat by nature? In other words, God’s justice is the Yin to its Yang that is His mercy when love is made manifest.

Love is a dance of dualities that is mercy and justice.

In the Scriptures, there were many instances where the Most High pulled His punches (i.e., slow to anger) and was quick to express gracious kindness to the outcasts, to those incapable of repaying Him (which is us all). When He executes judgement, it’s oftentimes against people and tribes whose reputation for barbarism and wanton immorality precedes them, obstinately spurning opportunity after opportunity to turn over a new leaf.

I don’t know about you, but this’s a God I’d rather pay my total homage to and hold in high esteem analogous to the Emperor of Samurai Jack.

Now, I imagine that some of you reached this point in this treatise and are perhaps thinking, “Man, some people are just so clueless. I know what I read — The contradictions in God’s character and recounts of gratuitous violence in the Bible are far too vast to reconcile.”

If you found yourself saying that at any point during this article, I’ll just say this: You’re more than welcome to beg to differ. Thank you for making the time to have a read in any case.

Nonetheless, as the atheist philosopher of science professor Dr. Michael Ruse stresses in his appraisal of the New Atheists’ modus operandi, make sure that you do your homework beforehand, and try to understand the position of your opponent’s viewpoint, see where they’re coming from first. You want to ensure that at the very least, you’re civilly disagreeing with what your interlocutor believes, not an idea of it.

If I were listening to a presentation on research outside my speciality and find myself confused, I wouldn’t presume the speaker is clueless of their content (that would be me projecting) but would inquire with the speaker for better understanding.

If I were just getting started delving into Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia, I would seek out the Potterheads, Tolkienists and Narnians respectively who are thoroughly immersed in the lore to fill in my knowledge gaps should I encounter seeming inconsistencies in the narrative, instead of making a snap judgement that I “know better”.

Returning the Biblio-verse, there are plenty of Bibliophiles you could find in your local community (could be your catechist, your best friend etc.) who are more than happy to discuss with you, help fill in your mental blanks with their intricate knowledge and understanding of the Bible’s world-building and cultural contexts of the human characters in their respective stories.

On that note, one good recommended resource is the book Is God A Moral Monster: Making Sense Of The Old Testament, penned by Paul Copan (his book title serving as the inspiration for this treatise).

(P.S. RIP Michael Ruse, 1940–2024. Thank you for your contributions to intellectual scholarship and combating polemical rhetoric disguised as rationality)

Epilogue

Luke 15:11-32.
*Painting: Prodigal Son, Joshua Yang*

“I get lost in the beauty of everything I see,
The world ain’t half as bad as they paint it to be.
If all the sons, all the daughters stopped to take it in.
Well, hopefully, the hate subsides and the love can begin.

It might start now, yeah.
Well, maybe I’m just dreaming out loud.

Well, until then, Come home, come home,
’Cause I’ve been waiting for you for so long, for so long.
And right now there’s a war between the vanities,
But all I see is you and me,
And the fight for you is all I’ve ever known, ever known.

So come home.”

— Ryan Tedder, OneRepublic

(Come Home, 2007).

(This article was originally posted on Medium)

Challenging the Charge “God is a Moral Monster”