A lot has been written about “The Dark Knight” — finding nuances in the tale that shed light on our own troubled times.

But now, for something completely different, comes this intriguing analysis by Margaret Stahl in America:

I saw “The Dark Knight” when it first was released, but it was only later, when I was discussing it with a close friend, that I realized just how theological it is.

Consider the story of Bruce Wayne/Batman. Bruce’s father is building a better world for the people of Gotham, yet it is up to his son, Bruce, to finish his work. Meanwhile, Batman’s good works are looked upon skeptically by the authorities and citizens of Gotham, though there are a few followers—especially children, such as Lieutenant Jim Gordon’s son—who see through the uncertainty and understand Batman for what he truly is. Batman’s debt to the Gospel stories seems indisputable.

One of the questions Nolan struggles with is what it means to be a hero. A hero is obviously someone who fights for good and saves the day—but are not heroes also supposed to be beloved by those he or she serves? Bruce/Batman is certain he is helping the city, but the citizens are not so sure. Is he truly a hero, or simply an uninvited vigilante? Ultimately, Batman “becomes” what Gotham wants him to be—a criminal—by taking the wrap for Harvey Dent’s crimes because it is ultimately best for Gotham. One can’t help but be reminded of Jesus’ capture and trial by Pontius Pilate. When asked if he was the king of the Jews, Jesus’ only reply is, “You say so.” Christ did not protest when his people put him to death in the place of another criminal, because, after all, he was dying to save us from sin and death.

The Joker, meanwhile, bears an uncanny resemblance to what Revelation calls “the Adversary.” Heath Ledger’s sinister portrayal of the Joker makes Nolan’s film much more intriguing than Tim Burton’s “Batman” (1989). From the beginning we see that the Joker is disturbingly smart—in the opening scene his plan to rob a bank unfolds with terrifying efficacy. Next we find out that despite his wacky appearance he can hold his own with the dirtiest of Gotham’s criminals—in a few short scenes he shows the Gotham mob what he is capable of. Yet what perhaps the most unsettling aspect of the Joker is that he is nameless.

Batman and the police have no records on him, and even his own story of how he got his scars—how he became the man he is—changes throughout the film, leaving the viewer without any sense of purpose to the chaos he is creating. Evil is always troubling, but purposeless evil cannot be reckoned with. The Joker is not interested in money, or even, it seems, power. What he is interested in is chaos. He seeks nothing more than to disrupt the flow of life in Gotham, as he tells the convalescing Harvey Dent:

“Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I’m a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do if I caught it. You know, I just do things. The mob has plans, the cops have plans, Gordon’s got plans, you know. They’re schemers. Schemers trying to control their little worlds. I am not a schemer. I try to show the schemers how pathetic their attempts to control things really are.”

How many times in Scripture do we encounter the “Evil One” cunningly creating chaos in the lives of others? Just like the Joker, the devil has no discernable form or story, no apparent motive aside from pulling people away from the path toward goodness. The Evil One focuses on people’s weaknesses and exploits them, just as the Joker did with Harvey Dent, appealing to his deep desire for justice to persuade him that the only true form of justice is chaos.

Intrigued? Read the rest.