“This I have said to you so you might have peace. In this world, you will have trials, but take courage for I have conquered the world” (John 16:33).
Conquest of Space (1955), was directed by Byron Haskin and produced by George Pal. Those names might not jump out at you, but if you’re in any way familiar with classic science fiction films, you’ll recognize their movies. Pal produced Destination Moon (1950), When Worlds Collide (1951),The War of the Worlds (1953), and The Time Machine (1960), amongst others. Haskin directed The War of the Worlds.
Conquest of Space tells the story of a surprisingly international crew of astronauts (who are part of the Supreme International Space Authority), who, like the folks in Red Planet are charged with saving humanity. Humans, at the unidentified time of this story, have almost exhausted all the natural resources on our home planet. The hope is that Mars can provide us with more.
At under ninety minutes, this is an enjoyable film with distinctive characters and a good pace. But what caught me about it both while watching it and in the time after is its title. It’s not an exploration, nor an adventure, nor even a mission. It’s a conquest, of space.
Conquest is a military word or, I suppose, a power word. Conquering something means it’s taken by force or, else, overcome by some physical or mental strength (on the battlefield or in the bedroom). Space, in this movie, is something that needs to be subdued, made to understand who is its master.
In the long discourse during the Last Supper, Jesus warns his disciples of his coming arrest and death. The time, he tells them, is coming (sooner than any of them think) when they’ll all run off into the night, leaving him alone to face what is coming. But take heart, be at peace. You’re going to face troubles and difficult times in the years to come. But don’t be scared, I’ve already conquered this world.
If any of the disciples, after the resurrection, ever asked Jesus about this statement, it isn’t part of the Gospel record. Could be that the asking and answering was one of those many things for which there wasn’t room in this account—full coverage would fill the world with books after all. Or it’s just as possible that no one thought about it. After all, in the shock and excitement of him being alive amongst them, this one phrase might not have come to mind.
I wish it had been asked and recorded; because, it’s a curious statement. Conquest, as noted above, is a word with military connotations. It describes an action or actions that involve violence in some form. Often that’s the physical violence of bombs, guns, and fists that shatter bodies and lives. But it also is used for sexual violence—the hunt, the coercion, the subduing when one person beds another.
This word doesn’t seem to fit Jesus at all. Throughout his ministry, Jesus acted in the exact opposite. On the mountain where the Adversary led him, Jesus refused to take hold of this kind of power. Despite how much easier it might have made things, he said no to trying to become an Alexander or Caesar who, through military might, could conquer the world.
But I wonder if this is Jesus, in his usual way, turning something on its head. It’s a curiosity I’ve had about this week’s movie as well.
Conquest of Space could be seen as an ironic title. George Pal’s films have a way of putting humanity in a humble space up next to the universe beyond our atmosphere. Martians come in The War of the Worlds and are impervious to humanity’s military might. Another star is on course to destroy Earth in When Worlds Collide, and we are powerless to stop it. The astronauts are successful in their mission to reach Mars in Conquest of Space, but in no way is the Red Planet subdued nor brought under their control. There’s nothing I’ve seen that offers the idea that Pal was attempting to show how space, like the oceans of our world, are not something we humans can master, but I can’t help but notice how, in his films, people are faced with powers far beyond their ability to subdue or control.
Jesus, I don’t believe, was talking about his ability to exert his divine powers to bring the world into submission. Instead, I think he was, like the films above, reminding us that we are not as mighty as we like to believe. Sure, we can build roads, empires, and travel into the vastness of space. But despite all that, we stand powerless against the love of God. None of our arms nor schemes nor technology can stand up to the force that even death could not overcome.
By declaring that he had conquered the world, Jesus boldly proclaims that the means with which those in this world seek to sow fear, cultivate anxiety, and reap a harvest of our weakness are foolish. Like the astronauts in Conquest of Space who believed they could bring stars and planets to heel, the powers of this world have deceived themselves.
Because true power—the love that suffuses every inch of Creation—doesn’t need to fight or coerce. It’s existence alone overcomes all.
Jesus grant us peace in the knowledge that no power in this world can stand against your love.