Incarnation and Mediation: Ultraman and Humanity
Ultraman as a series – and a wider franchise – shares several key aspects with Tsuburaya’s creative vision in earlier works such as Godzilla films and Ultra Q. It shows a special concern for humanity’s place in creation, and how human beings serve their rightful, appointed responsibilities in that place, emphasizing both the wonder and the terrifying power of God’s appointed creations. Ultraman also emphasizes fundamentally hopeful and joyful stories even in the face of those terrifying challenges.
But more than the emphasis on righteous harmony with creation, more than the emphasis on joyful twists of fate, there is one last point that has given Ultraman a powerfully, uniquely Catholic identity for the past 56 years.
And that is the hypostatic union established by Ultraman himself.
“The Holy Trinity”, Antonio de Pereda
“Hypostasis” is more Greek, this time referring to the “underlying state” of nature or reality, the fundamental “stuff” that gives something its identity. More specifically in orthodox Christian theology, the “hypostatic union” represents the fact that Jesus Christ is both fully divine (with the same elements I described previously, all-powerful and all-good), but also fully human, and shares completely in both natures without either being restrained, limited or negated in that union.
Santa’s delivering these hands instead of coal to naughty bishops this Christmas!
This point is so important to Catholic teaching that multiple Church councils have convened through history to argue and refine it over the last two thousand years. This is why Saint Nicholas punched the bishop Arius in the face, after Arius’ teaching denied the fully divine nature of Christ. And while the in-depth explanation of this concept and its full ramifications for Christian practice would fill multiple thick leather-bound books, I’ve found that one of the best analogies to illustrate it to the average person is with Ultraman.
I have to put a few disclaimers on this point, the main one being that Ultraman himself is definitely not God, is not portrayed as God in the shows, and this is an analogy, not a full dogmatic explanation of the concept. If Saint Patrick can be allowed a little leeway with his shamrock metaphor, then I ask that my readers give me the same benefit of the doubt before I get accused of heresy or sacrilege.
As I mentioned in the previous article, while Ultraman was always intended to be a benevolent figure, the original concept for the series depicted him as much more alien in appearance. Even the recent Shin Ultraman movie borrows from early concepts, making his figure more distorted with odd proportions that emphasize this alien origin. This helps set up the eucatastrophe of the franchise, going against expectations. The alien monster that arrives on Earth turns out to be friendly and generous towards humanity, and goes to astoundingly selfless ends in order to protect them from other alien threats.
However, the franchise goes one step further by uniting a human life with Ultraman’s own life in a specifically literal way. The show never really explains how this happens on a scientific level, but by giving his own life to Hayata in the first episode, Ultraman becomes united to that life, and both of them function essentially as one person with two natures. As a result, Hayata as Ultraman acts as a go-between, a mediator between humanity and the wondrously strange universe that humanity encounters.
This idea of Ultraman representing both humans and aliens, mediated by one person, is explicitly referred to in the show itself. The evil alien Mephilas is confounded by this union in the episode 33, “The Forbidden Words”, when he asks if Hayata is “human or alien” and Hayata responds by claiming he’s both. The audience can also see this role of Ultraman as a mediator in how he allows humanity to understand its rightful place in the universe, and how to address the parts of creation that human beings might unjustly fear or despise.
This second aspect of a mediator – to suffer as reparation for humanity’s own sins, thus re-mediating them – becomes an especially tragic point in episodes such as #23, “My Home Is Earth”, or #35, “The Monster Graveyard”. Rather than merely allowing humanity to triumph and stand superior over other lives for their own sake, these more tragic episodes reorient Ultraman’s role.
By protecting humanity, Ultraman restores the “balance” or righteousness of the universe, ensuring humanity’s right relationship to God’s creation. This isn’t accomplished by simply leaving humanity to be destroyed by the wages of their sins, nor is it accomplished by destroying all other life in the universe and elevating humanity to godhood through their own merits.
In fact, throughout the franchise, Ultraman rarely triumphs over evil only by fighting and destroying threats. If that was all Ultraman represented, then humanity might become complacent and only rely on him as a weapon. The original series heavily emphasizes this problem, especially in stories like episode 37, “A Little Hero”, but a stronger example is found in the finale.
The final episode of the original series ends with Ultraman giving his life in the fight against Zetton, and the SSSP using their own technology to fight in his place and defeat the invading alien threat. But humanity doesn’t achieve that victory separately from Ultraman, or in spite of his failure. Rather, it’s Ultraman’s example which inspires them, to give them the courage to overcome this latest disaster and bring out the characteristic eucatastrophe that provides the happy ending to the show.
The role of Ultraman as a mediator goes both ways. As a hero, he allows humanity to face the unknown with courage, compassion and hope, but also provides a path by which humanity can imitate and embody that example for others. Ultraman may look like a weird fish-faced silver alien who shoots laser beams out of his hands, but human beings can recognize and relate to him because he also intimately knows the experience of being human.
Regardless of whether the Ultraman of each series binds their life to an individual human, or adopts a human identity of their own, they choose to live alongside human beings as a human. In this way, a sort of kinship develops between Ultraman and humanity, adopted brothers and sisters, a community united by this same shared desire for righteousness.
That relationship forms the fundamental power of Ultraman, and because humanity participates in that relationship, the power of Ultraman becomes something that all people can share in. The franchise is very consistent about the idea of ordinary people serving as “Ultraman” by emulating his courageous self-sacrifice and compassion, even if one doesn’t have the ability to also shoot laser beams out of their hands.
Relating it back to Catholic teaching, this powerfully represents how the Church understands not just the hypostatic union of Jesus Christ’s dual natures, but how human beings participate in the mystery of this union. When someone is baptized, we say that they are adopted into the body of Christ, and share in that divine nature, in the same mysterious way that Jesus relates to God the Father. In other words, (borrowing from Pope Benedict XVI again), we can know the will of the Father, the path to righteousness because we know his Son.
“The Descent of the Holy Spirit”, Titian
The same light that gives Ultraman his strength and powers can be understood as divine grace, the shared mystical connection between the Father and Son (which I could characterize as the Holy Spirit in this argument. Maybe. Someone’s probably going to point out I’ve committed heresy regardless.). Fittingly, this light is often referred to in the Ultraman franchise as the power of “bonds”. I’ve limited my discussion of these theological implications to the original Ultraman series, but the 2004 series Ultraman Nexus gets really deep into this metaphor in a unique way.
Speaking of limiting my discussion, I think I need to start wrapping things up.
The universes in which Godzilla and Ultraman exist both serve to humble the human beings caught up in these larger-than-life events, to emphasize their smallness amidst the full, awe-inspiring diversity and scope of creation. But rather than just overwhelming humanity, shrinking the human experience into insignificance against the huge scope of these stories, the best kaiju stories give human beings an active role within that universe, which we are responsible for. Many of these kaiju movies, not just Ultraman shows, often depict the human heroes as individuals who act courageously to protect the lives they can, usually in seemingly small ways, in the middle of these terrifying disasters.
Any secular commentary on Eiji Tsuburya’s work can – and should – pick up on those points, that simple demonstration of virtue. However, Ultraman closely mirrors many important elements of Catholic belief and teaching which I believe are also important to demonstrate. But those elements aren’t just simply described by listing an article like “Top Ten Ultraman Crucifixion Scenes!” (Although, to be fair, I considered that for a minute.)
That kind of reliance on hidden symbols turns Catholicism into a sort of scavenger hunt, a Dan Brown-esque cipher only recognizable to those who have the correct knowledge. Repeating what I said at the beginning of this essay, it seems like commentators who try to emphasize the religious symbology in Tsuburaya’s work often miss the forest for the trees. The influence of Catholic theology within these stories is not just limited to obvious visual metaphors or kaiju named after Biblical monsters, or references to Apocalypse narratives. Instead, it is the heroic example of Ultraman and his successors, how they choose to fight, why they choose to fight, and what empowers them to achieve meaningful victories in those fights.
Even without the Christological allegories, that example stands out to all audiences, regardless of their religious background or lack thereof. The virtues that Ultra heroes all demonstrate, the courage, kindness, hope and charity that defines their strength, are all recognizable and valued by humans across all belief systems and religions.
However, I also don’t want to downplay how closely Ultraman’s depiction of these virtues align with how Catholics and other Christians understand theological virtues derived from grace. The key difference is that grace, the light that Ultraman represents, is never earned or demanded by one’s own merits.
Human beings participate in divine grace, and are adopted into it. Left alone, humanity cannot merit it only with their own righteousness (nobody’s perfect all the time!), but grace is something greater than a simple equivalent transaction – it is a gift.
In the very first episode, Ultraman had no reason to give his life to Hayata. He gained nothing by it, required nothing, and asked for nothing in return. The only way one could possibly respond to a gift of that magnitude is with gratitude, to “pay it forward” as it were. And that is exactly what Hayata, humanity as a whole, and every other protagonist and group of characters – even the Ultras themselves – have all continued to strive for in every single story across the franchise.
For me, personally, as a Catholic, the most powerful way both Godzilla and Ultraman have impacted my life is through the simple, unyieldingly virtuous examples of the franchises’ heroes, against such terrifyingly huge and awe-inspiring disasters. And in the case of Ultraman specifically, it is the way that the franchise links the virtues of its heroes with participation in grace, divine love, freely given, unmerited, gained through the death and resurrection of God Himself made man, that we are made righteous in accord with God’s will.
That is what a Catholic reading of Tsuburaya’s work should emphasize.
I know I said I wasn’t going to evangelize, but hey, if the franchise is going to play its metaphors so plainly obvious, why shouldn’t my conclusion for this essay do the same?
In conclusion, it’s very easy to get too wrapped up in legalistic details when discussing religion, but being Christian, and being Catholic isn’t just about having a vocabulary with the biggest theological words. Living a Christian life is about active participation in a relationship with God, rather than only for ones’ self, and Tsuburaya’s work in both Godzilla and Ultraman help to continually remind me of that fact.
