The Gospel Changes Our Past

Redemption in Christ and Michael Keaton's Batman

Photo by RODRIGO GONZALEZ on Unsplash

Last summer, I went with friends to see a good (not great) movie, The Flash. The movie continued the development of the D.C. Universe of films centered around the Justice League and its members.

For many of us, the movie’s highlight wasn’t the freakishly fast title character, Barry Allen, but a supporting figure—the dark knight … from an alternate universe.

Not only does this movie have Batman, it has two Batmans. And the treat for moviegoers was the second. Michael Keaton reprised his role of the winged avenger from 1989 to play a wise and retired Bruce Wayne.

In one pivotal moment, Keaton’s Batman explains (or corrects) Barry’s misguided concept of time travel. Most fiction (e.g., the Avengers) will portray time travel with a series of adjustments in the past, which create deviations from the “standard” timeline.

As it goes, if something in the past is changed, a new future is made. An alternative timeline begins. Of course, the characters can reinstate the standard timeline if they can undo their edit in the past.

Keaton’s Batman squashes this theory. As he eloquently explains with two pieces of uncooked spaghetti, when you create a new future, you also alter the corresponding past.

[Hard pivot] … Let’s consider this version of time travel as an illustration of redemption in Christ.

Given the transformation when Jesus saves us, it’s as if he alters our past entirely.

The Gospel Changes Our Past

In Acts 20, Luke shows us how Paul can celebrate complete innocence from blood guilt—a beautifully ironic declaration of Christ’s work.

Guilt. Gone

Shame. No more.

Sin. Dethroned.

Whenever anyone is saved, it’s a miracle. Whenever anyone is saved, it is a radical transformation. A new person is born. And when Jesus saves, he brings about complete renewal.

For some of us, the hardest part of the gospel is believing that Jesus can actually change us.

We suppose something like this: “... Yes, he offers salvation—my ticket into heaven, but surely he can’t undo all the awful in my life. He’ll give me a cloak so I can sneak by.”

Don’t believe the lie. When Jesus heals, he heals the whole person.

We All Carry Baggage

Baggage can manifest in several ways.

For some, it may be shame from a past of bad decisions—shame over past sin.

For some, it’s embarrassment over family or background you didn’t choose—your situation was and is one of hardship—it’s not fair.

Maybe your parents’ divorce defined your childhood, or you grew up poor and always compared your family to others. Some of you were hurt, abused, or manipulated.

None of our lives are what we wish they were. Some of us have trauma, and some of us have regrets piled so high we can’t see past the mountain.

When Jesus says, “You are mine,” he takes on all of it. He takes on every bit of us.

When Jesus heals us, he heals us by stepping into our suffering with us—he has already walked the road before us.

Our brokenness no longer defines us, but rescue means we may not escape the hardest parts of this world until he returns.

See, the Jews of Jesus’ day wanted a redeemer to heal their circumstances—they didn’t think they needed healing. It’s precisely the opposite.

There’s a lot wrong with this world—and Jesus will fix all that. But, first, he has promised to heal us. Though our circumstances may not change, if we are in him, he has freed us from their entanglement—they have no more hold.

We All Have Scars

The reality is, sometimes baggage presents more like scar tissue. Reminders of a past we’d rather forget.

Most of my scars are from playing football. You get banged up in the middle of the season and can’t break long enough to heal properly.

Some of my scars are from growing up on a farm.

Some of my scars are from adolescent stupidity.

Paul had scar tissue, too. We see throughout the New Testament in his letters that he can’t undo what he had done. But, in a sense, Jesus did change what he had done.

Whatever your baggage or scar tissue—Jesus is not disgusted or intimidated. Your baggage is part of his garden renewal mission.

No person is beyond his scope, and no person is too far gone or too deep in the filth of this world.

Hear me on this: There is no such thing as “damaged goods” to Jesus.

This is why when Jesus stops Paul on the road to Damascus, he acknowledges Paul’s history—his (prior) identity—but he is eager to redeem and transform him. Even the worst of sinners was forgiven instantly because of what the Savior had already done on the cross.

And this is what he has done for you and me.