For a long, long time there has been a desire for Christians (not very Jedi of us, is it) to see in the galaxy of George Lucas a deeper presence than the seemingly impersonal Force that runs throughout. Works by both amateurs and professionals have reflected on the spiritual elements with which this ever-growing collection of intellectual property is replete.
What stands out is that the theological connections went deeper than simple clichés.
It is no accident that Christians have seen so much spirituality running through Star Wars. George Lucas, though not Christian himself, was heavily influenced by sources with strong ties to the numinous and mystical world. There are some spurious claims that Lucas based his Jedi Order on the similarly named Jesuit Order, a Catholic religious community (a competing claim is that he based them on a prophetic, monastic community from the popular sci-fi series Dune, which some likewise interpret as drawing on Christian influences). What cannot be argued is that Obi-Wan himself, Sir Alec Guinness, developed deeper faith in Christ after starring in A New Hope (though it was an experience in another film that brought this on).
All of these examples, while interesting, are accidental to the content of Star Wars itself. Is it really ripe for spiritual commentary, and more specifically, Christian spiritual commentary? This is what Eric Clayton—author of My Life with the Jedi: The Spirituality of Star Wars—supplies, through personal anecdotes and references to the Star Wars canon that demonstrate a vast depth and breadth of knowledge, alongside Christian theological insights.
I admit I was initially skeptical regarding the depth to which a book like this would be able to dive. I am familiar enough with primary Star Wars IP and versed in Christian philosophy and theology, so I was not expecting to be surprised in reading Clayton’s book. There are references to many products well beyond the nine Skywalker movies, including references to recent accoutrements like the Ahsoka, Andor and Bad Batch series (even the most recent seasons), as well as numerous supplemental novels. However, what stands out is that the theological connections went deeper than simple clichés like, “the Force represents the Holy Spirit,” “Obi-Wan is a self-sacrificial Christ figure,” and “Anakin is a symbol of redemption.”
Clayton notes that more modern iterations of Star Wars stories are blurring this seemingly simplistic understanding of good and evil.
Clayton works in communications for the religious community the Society of Jesus, also known as the Jesuits. The book is published by Loyola Press, which is named after Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Order. Not surprisingly, Clayton’s theological connections are profoundly influenced by this lens of Christian theology. Because Ignatius was a soldier, he emphasized the two standards we must choose between: God’s or the Devil’s. Deuteronomy 30:19 shows us Moses’s famous dilemma which he gives to Israel before his death. He presents them with two options, life and death, one of which they must choose. Every prospective Jedi is likewise faced with a dramatic choice of whom they will serve—tyranny or peace, the dark side or the light.
Clayton notes that more modern iterations of Star Wars stories are blurring this seemingly simplistic understanding of good and evil. Christian pastoral theology must recognize these complications in life, which St. Ignatius did in his own life and ministry. While he had to continue to choose the way of life or the “light side,” this conversion was a lifelong process. Clayton accounts for this spiritual reality in the character of Han Solo, who is far from perfect when we meet him at the Mos Eisley Cantina. Even at the end of A New Hope there is still plenty of growth for him to undergo.
Han is never perfect, which is what made him such a relatable and aspirational character in the series. This same attitude, Clayton shows, must be taken when considering the saints of Christian history, all of whom grew in charity over the course of their lives.
Ignatius also emphasized with his community a special type of reflection on the Scriptures that included intense visualization of Jesus and the scenes from the Gospels. Many times we see Jedi have a vision of some important event related to the Force. Sometimes, Jedi even project themselves to another place using this same intense concentration. Though certainly not exactly as Ignatius Loyola imagined it, one can see the parallels.
Finally, the Jesuits also were known for their extensive missionary travels and pilgrimages to holy sites. How many times in just the nine Skywalker films did characters travel to these special shrines in order to grow stronger in the Force? Inversely, there were certainly places where the very atmosphere was evil because of its own past.
Star Wars directly undermines the materialist, post-Enlightenment, mechanical worldview of nature and the universe.
One of the unquestionable realities of Star Wars (revealed as it was first being analyzed by both Christians and non-Christians) is that it directly undermines the materialist, post-Enlightenment, mechanical worldview of nature and the universe. Lucas presents not just a galaxy that is quantitatively bigger than ours, but qualitatively bigger than the modern worldview. Clayton writes at the end of this work that, as the name of the first installment of the newest Skywalker trilogy (episode 7, “The Force Awakens”) implies, the world was awakened to a new way of seeing reality, not unlike what Jesus sought to present. It is the Christian reader’s responsibility to first enjoy this awakening that the book seeks to foster, and then to cultivate that awakening more deeply.
Maybe I should have admitted from the outset that I am not the biggest Star Wars fan. Now, hear me out! I think this added to my objectivity in reviewing My Life with the Jedi. I was reading it less as a Star Wars fan and more as a Christian theology nerd, for which my qualifications are confirmed. My primary focus was not whether Clayton would get every canonical detail correct (I had to trust him on this), but that his theological reflections would be profound, insightful, and accessible to the average reader. On these accounts, I am pleased that he succeeded.
Readers—whether their intensity of fandom burns hotter than twin suns or is casual like Han Solo in a cantina bar—will enjoy gaining insight into the property. They may even be inspired to look for their own connections to Christian theology as they re-engage with Star Wars narratives, both existing and forthcoming.
